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The New World is fraught with danger and filled with monsters both thinking and feral. It is a land where humans struggle to survive and coexist with forces far greater than themselves. Hence why the massive monsters that call this place home have taken it upon themselves to guard and guide them. To teach and train them and see to it these frail and imperfect beings have all that they need to survive if not one day thrive in these inhospitable lands.
And in light of the danger confronting the New World, from within and without, the monsters and men inhabiting it must decide if they wish to grow closer together or drift further apart in response.
Thumbnail comes courtesy of
blackfoxguts!
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
“What was I thinking?!” Hands clutched against the back of her head, scarred fingers running through her mohawk, Alma gnashed her teeth. The Silk Seer was right. She was no friend to Ser Jet. Her act of so called kindness could very well have killed him! What if a Feral really had shown up? How would she keep him, much less herself, safe?
Flames billowed out from the gaps between her lips as the Anjanath trembled with self-loathing. Not only that but she had dishonored the Silk Seer for good measure! She didn't just question him but she shouted him down! What sort of self-respecting Slayer would do such a thing?!
Shadows swallowed up Alma's amber eyes as she angrily exhaled. “A fool. That's who,” she answered for herself. A fool who...
Her expression softened and self-directed rage dulled as it found itself bleeding back outwards. Heart racing, Alma recalled the abject fear and terror that flooded her frame when Ser Jet was ripped from her care. The dread she felt when she spied her... t-t-the Hunter so carelessly flung through the open air. The callousness with which he was cocooned and toyed about.
Chin tucked against her sternum, Alma blushed profusely. Even if she had erred... it was only because the Silk Seer had done so first. Ser Jet deserved far more respect than he displayed.
With a tired blink the Anjanath surveyed her surroundings. The sea of leaves whistled in the wind as upturned waves of chlorophyll whisked past. Forcing down a swallow Alma violently shook her head as she tried and failed to disperse the profuse blush carving itself into her cheeks. The ferocity with which she had responded at even the perception of danger to Ser Jet was... was...
Eyes clenched shut she slapped her clawed hands against the sides of her face. She feared for him. She cared for him. She...
“Such thoughts are unbecoming of a Slayer. Of a... Protector,” Alma bashfully mumbled to herself. The Anjanath was entrusted to protect all of the Ancient Forest and its inhabitants! Not just a select few! It was shameful behavior to fight so ferociously on a certain someone's behalf and not all others. No matter... no matter how they made her feel.
“...Oh who am I kidding,” whined the wumbo Wyvern. She cherished, she adored, she admired Ser Jet so. His kindness! His company! Simply being in his very presence made her feel like a person as opposed to a walking weapon! What she wouldn't give to cast aside her responsibilities and simply wile away the day with him. To talk herself hoarse with the kindred spirit, with the friend, she had sought for so long. To learn of everything she could about humans and share in their world. His world.
R̷̥̮͕̆͊A̷̢̢̛̛̦̮̱̅̄́̿̓̆͛̓͆̍̏͘͠Ơ̵̡̢̛̠͉͙̥̠̘͍̩̭̠̠̩̊̿̓́̎͑͌̉̍̌͂͝ͅO̵̖͔̯̽Ǫ̶̦̣̱̮͚̩̽͗̓͝͠Ǫ̶̡̛͚̬͉̙̭͔̳̬̓̍͂̎́̾̿̍̒̉͜O̴͙̰͈̱̪͕̬̬̙̰̰͍͉͋́̆̔̈́̓̅̔̓͆̆̉͐͝W̵͇̳̬͙̼̉Ẇ̸̢̛͇̭̫̩͕͖̝Ẃ̴̢̰̥̩̤̺̬̰̻̩͇̻͚͐́̆̆̓̽̈͜ͅẆ̷̢̛͙͚̱̔̈́̓̾̎͂̑͋̀̈͝R̴̮̣̺͉̈́̉͛̇̎̀̃
Perking to attention, Alma hmmphed as she slowly brandished her Sword and Shield. Until such a day came, if such a thing were possible, she would give her all to protect it. For Ser Jet.
Lumbering forward, the anchors hanging along her thighs catching against and snapping branches with ease, Alma raced through the Ancient Forest. Rushing through clouds of screeching Godbugs shuffling free from the canopy she slowly advanced towards the endless expanse of mountain crags scraping at the sky. Nestled high atop their coral kissed peaks lay the Coral Highlands and buried beneath it, festering and feeding the land itself, was the Rotten Vale. Thick clouds of mist, that only parted on the sunniest and most scorching of days, enveloped its peaks and hid it from any and all.
FWOOOOSH
Along with what hid within it.
Clouds trailing past its pointed silhouette a winged Wyvern descended from the heavens at breakneck speeds. A Shrieking Legiana, its once vibrant yellows having dulled and blackened from the blood stained sheets of frostbite that enveloped its extremities, mindlessly flapped its tattered wings as it hurtled straight towards the ground.
Ṛ̸̮̉̃̑̈͂̏̋̽́͆̈́̆͘͝O̶̢̮̤̟͇̗͎̟̅̅̍̀͐͌̈͂͝͝͝Ą̶̡͈̝͉̰̟̽̀̍̑̎̚͘A̴̡̨̤̣̺͎̬̯̪͕̣͍̿͜A̸̯͋̈́̾̐̌Ą̸̠͙͑͑̌́̽̈́̓A̴͓̩̩̬̭̺̟̞͓͇̪͊͐͌̓͑̀̈̀̋̏̚̕͜A̷̰̤̣̋̌͑͐͝Ấ̸̳̱̗̙̖̱̹̋̃̅͐͝À̸̧͍͙̭͇͈̄͗͘A̸̛͕̬͚̣̎̔̍̊́̅͆̏͘̚Ǎ̸̡̨̡͓͎̼̬̱͌A̵̢̤͔̞̯͎̖̜̳̥̟͔̺̒̂̎͘Ŗ̴̡̢̳̝͈̮̝̹̣̟͎̑̆́̉̔͂̎̾̋͜
Jaw peeled open as far as she was able, Alma screamed for its attention. Its dull and milky eyes squelched in their sockets when it registered her presence. Wings pulled in close it drilled through the air towards her as dagger like shards of blood stained hail trailed off of it.
Snout scrunched into a snarl Alma let rip a white hot gout of flame. As boiling hot steam and vaporized blood hissed off its form, clawed and skeletal fingers only held in place by the frostbite falling away, the Feral continued to surge straight through the inferno.
Shield raised-
The sizzling Feral, its scales and webbed flesh bubbling, slammed into the Anjanath. Tumbling head over heels, tree after tree after tree cracking and splintering apart beneath her, Alma's head spun. Spear sized shards of wood and branches stabbed into her broad back and shoulders as she ragdolled across the land.
“Hnngh...” Flat on her back, and vision blurry, Alma winced when a frigid and deafening gale washed over her. Hand cupped to a scraped raw cheek, the Slayer watched as the Shrieking Legiana buzzed overhead and a flash wave of frost came to cake her and chill her to the bone. Stumbling to her feet, blood trickling down her broad back and shoulders as the pikes embedded into her snapped apart with the tensing of her muscles, the Anjanath watched the Shrieking Legiana roll onto its side as it circled her. Perpendicular to the tops of the trees, its wings tracing along the wildly whipping sea of leaves, flash frozen death followed in the Feral's wake.
“Think,” Alma muttered as she adopted her battle ready stance. “Can Ser Jet's training aid me? And if so... how?”
To draw near would be disastrous. Every flap of its wings, and its every exhale, could drain the very life from her. Shoulders rising and falling, smoke trailing from her nostrils, Alma stoked the flames within her breast as the sheets of ice layered atop her melted away. Crimson stained slicks of water washed down her back.
“Perhaps not,” the Anjanath glumly acknowledged. He had duly warned her that different situations call for different tools and approaches. His training, his gifts, were meant to complement her own means and methods after all. Hmm. She could pepper it flames from afar. Set the whole of the canopy ablaze to wreath herself in hellfire and guard against its icy touch of death. And... and...
Bags formed under her eyes at the thought of standing triumphant over the Feral in a land rendered fallow and ashen. A pyrrhic victory if there ever was one. “Dammit all!” she snarled.
Licks of flame trailed out from the sides of Alma's maw as she strafed alongside the Shrieking Legiana. It felt as if the Ferals had been flowing freely, unceasingly, as of late from the Wildspire Wastes and Coral Highlands both. Just what were the other Slayers doing?! Was she the only one who truly cared anymore?
G̸̢̡̬̩̣̖͎̰͚̬̈́͂͛̀̉͝Ŕ̸̮̯̭̇̈́̓̆͆̊͠O̶̞̬̬̪̩̬̘̙͉̖̔̈́̓̂̒̀͋͗̉͋̒̚͠A̶̤̟͕͖͜͝ͅA̷̦̠̳̻̘̥̬͆̽̿̾̈́͜͝Ä̷̢̱͍̹̼̞͍̼̬̱̭̞͈́͋̽͑̅̀̀͊́́͐͆͝͠À̵̛̜̝̮̻͕͎͕̜̓̀̍̇͆͌̿̒̊̓̒͒̚A̸̢͍̫̣̮̘̳͆̒̄̌͂W̴̭̖̪̼͕͎͈̳͇͈̥̿̓͋̈́́̚͠R̸̦̯̖̓̅̋͆̔̏̈́̽͛̉͘͝R̶͖̗͚̝̗̹̊̅͐͋̀̋̐̐̿̔̋̊̕̚ͅŔ̵̡̡̯͍̗̜̝̟͕͖̲̼̈̎̐̾͜͝ͅ
The Feral, its head ominously snapping to attention, abruptly divebombed towards Alma. With flame filled roars she advanced to meet it even as piercing crags of ice erupted alongside her.
KADOOOOOOOM
“Nnghh!” As the moisture within the trees expanded and froze they explosively popped apart and assailed the Anjanath with shrapnel from all sides. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT. Eyes gone wide, what little restraint she held tight to melting away, Alma's pupils contracted into dagger like pinpricks as she could do little more than graze the Feral when it flew past. Drawing in deeply of the heavy and humid air, lungs filled to near bursting, she readied to exhale an inferno.
FWIP
Before Alma could commit to her conflagration, coiled threads of web leapt forth from the Ancient Forest and latched on to the Feral's flapping wings. The Shrieking Legiana flailed through the air, its limbs practically ripping out of its sockets, as its newfound tethers to the trees threw off its balance. Furiously did it flap, ice coming to cake the crumbling tethers, as it sought to right itself. Yet as soon as one line was shattered another snapped into place.
“Slayer!” an unfamiliar voice called out above the din. “I'd greatly appreciate you taking advantage of this opening I'm offering you!”
Flickers of cognizance flared back to life within Alma's eyes. With a shake of her head, she gathered herself and quickly reevaluated the ever shifting battlefield. As waves of ice radiated out from the Shrieking Legiana with every wave of its wings thickets of flash frozen trees continued to explode apart before and beneath it.
Brows furrowed, and breathing steadied, Alma clenched and throttled the muscles in her throat. She would just have to carve her own path forward. Hunched forward, and jaw propped open wide, she forced a narrow and super heated plume of flame at the Shrieking Legiana. Whittling down one wing, then the other, she melted away the soft flesh stretched along the length of its arm span as it screeched and howled in pain. Reduced to bloodied tatters the sheets of ice accompanying every flap trickled off to near nothing.
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Unable to keep itself airborne, the Feral crashed atop the tops of the frozen trees. Its own body and limbs, speared and impaled, continued to writhe. Yet still... still it staggered forward, uprooting the trees embedded into it, with defiant flaps of its bent backwards wings.
S̷̙̺̓͜͜H̸͉̪̮͇̦͓̭̱̼͍̻̱̠͈̑̑̄́́͘R̷̨͕̟͙̙͉̔́̅ͅỈ̶̢̛̪̖̫̖̈́̑̀̀̄͆̽̒E̸̡̖͔͇̻̻͔͖͖̟̩͎̩͈̮͝E̶͇͇͍̣̰̼̖͊̀͘͝ͅȨ̸̡̢̙̣̤̟̟̤̼͓̒̍̄̀̋̆̽̐͊̇ͅE̸̛̛̘̖̭͂̈͐̈́̿̔̓͑͗͜͝ͅE̶͔̳̾̅̀Ä̸̮́͐̎͑͛̕À̸̺̣͈̞͚̦̜̙̗̖͇̝̀̈͊͂̽̀͋͗̿̍̓͊A̵̧̡̨̤̖̦̩͉͎̜̝̹̅̋̇̅͘͜A̴͉̅́̿̄́̕͘͝A̶̛̭͋̈̇̆̌̑̏̇̇̅̃̎̚A̶̩̱̩̰̜̱͗̔͆́͌͊͊̀̍͂͝
Jaw popping out of place, the Shrieking Legiana exhaled a plume of liquid nitrogen at the Slayer. Even as daggers of ice punctured its own throat from the inside out, and its chest crumpled inwards, it refused to relent. It refused to die.
Alma, her eyes gone wide, somersaulted to the side.
FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Just as a rat a tat of explosions of rippled behind her. Tumbling through the Ancient Forest's undergrowth, her heels and dew claws churning through upturned earth and roots, the Anjanath eventually slid to a halt as sheets of rock and roots collected between her toes.
“What would...” panted the Brute Wyvern before diving out of the way of another blast of breath. “What would Ser Jet say?” Nostrils flared, and smoke trailing from her lips, Alma rattled her brain while she tried recalling the Hunter's words. There had to be something, anything, of his that she could bring to bear.
“That's what being a Hunter is all about. Adapting and improvising and putting your tools to work in ways only you could have thought of!” Jet's reassuring voice echoed in her head. “Your Sword and Shield are an extension of you. As is anything and everything else you can get your hands on.”
“...Anything and everything can be a tool?” she hummed. “Wait!” A flash of inspiration struck her with a gasp. Sheathing her misshapen if not circular buckler of a Shield upon the flutes of anchors jostling against her hips, Alma buried her clawed hands into the back of the tree. Then another. And another. Crashing them together, their great limbs crunching against and embedding themselves into one another, Alma held up her hastily cobbled together great shield.
Ŝ̴̡̪̦̰̳͉̠̲͇̲̄͒͝C̶̨̛̛̹̺̬̓̒́̾̊̇̚͘͝͝͝R̵̗̒̿̅͒̎̍̅̔̒̀͌͘͠E̵̢͚̖̲̠̤̮̲͙̱̱̫̬͓͋͌̌̾̎̽̏͘͝ͅȨ̶̤̩̥͖̲̘̟̭͔̪͛͒͑͘͜Ȇ̷̡̡͙͍̰͇̖̹̠͔̓̓̑̏̎̓̂̈́͂̏̕E̵̡̘͈̳͚̿̄Ę̴̨͇̜̲̝͈̜̦͇̰̤̦̺͌͐̌̆̊̓̀̚͜͝͝E̴̛̪͍͉͐́̂͛̄̓̃͂͛́̐̚Ę̶̨̡̦̯̙͉̺̩̣̮̫̲̍̓̔̔̅̉̓̽̽͗͠͝Ą̷̪̙̭̹͚̪̦̤̜͖̒͒̽͋́̾̓̕Ą̶̣̤̪̥̫̠̼͍̝̙̻̋̄̊͆̈́ͅA̵̡̡̛̫͔̠̘͊͊̌͌Ẫ̶̛͙̹̬̳̖̩̫̘͍͇̝̬̇̉͛̚͝A̷̧̧̧̰̦̪̺̺͉̰̰̤̜̾͑̅̓̒͌̿̂̓̋͌͜͝A̴̯̗͚̣͈̯̮̰͆̀̽̈́̿́́͊͛͐̏̓͗̚͘
Sprinting forward, her newfound armor ominously creaking as it grew heavier within her grasp, Alma desperately tossed the slab of ice aside when she felt herself crash into the Feral. Its head knocked back, and plume of liquid death billowing into the sky, the Slayer steeled herself as her impromptu shield ruptured apart beside her.
Dipping low, the Anjanath gripped the hilt of her Sword and gathered her breath. As the Feral's neck threatened to snap back into place, and an icy mist pooled out the sides of its distended maw, a string of silk clapped against the back of its head.
“ANYTIME, SLAYER!” Alma's unseen assistant screamed as they pulled the Shrieking Legiana's head back as far as they were able.
The Feral's milky white eyes locked with the Anjanath's own as it wildly whipped in place and all but broke its own neck to get a proper bead on her. Wasting no time, Alma drew her blade and leaped forth as it readied an existential exhale.
SHWICK
Arm tucked close against her chest, Alma drew her Sword with force enough to strip the surrounding trees bare. Slicing its breath attack in half, and smashing apart the Shrieking Legiana's pointed teeth as she stomped forward, the curved bone blade briefly caught against the Feral's lips.
FWIWSH
Before splitting its jaw in twain. With a defiant roar, Alma ripped the upper half of the Feral's head clean from its body. As it sailed into the sky, its eyes blinking out of sync, spurts of blackened blood and plumes of ice billowed free from the abomination's exposed esophagus. The partially decapitated monster briefly shambled and spasmed in place before collapsing into the earth.
With a heavy sigh Alma sheathed her Sword and cupped her hands close to her maw as she breathed fire over them. Replacing the frostburns biting at her fingertips with the those of her own flames she tiredly warmed herself in between haggard and shaky breaths.
“Have to say...” the unfamiliar voice from before spoke up. “This is a nice change of pace. A Slayer that. Well. Slays? Nice to know there are still some out there that treat their responsibilities with the gravitas they deserve.”
“...As one should,” the Anjanath uneasily answered. “To whom am I speaking to?”
A click of the tongue answered her. “Did. Did Silas really not tell you?”
“Forgive me, stranger,” Alma grunted. “But I know not this Silas. Or you. Your aid is much appreciated, however-”
“...Did he really not say anything about me?” the voice dumbly replied. “The Silk Seer, I mean? Nothing? Nothing at all?”
The Anjanath cocked a brow as she confusedly found herself drawn into the conversation. “The Silk Seer? I'll... confess that he wished to speak of me at length of matters of great import. Yet prior commitments called him away before he could elaborate any further.”
“OH FOR.”
Alma startled in place at the outburst of exasperation.
“That idiot...” spat her garrulous guest. “Augh. Fine! Since he couldn't be bothered to handle introductions I'll just have to do so myself.”
Snaggleteeth jutting out, and idly plucking free the spears embedded into her shoulders, Alma hummed when her mysterious helper made herself known. Carefully sidling past trees both frozen and aflame stepped forth an enormous spider.
“Hail, Slayer. As the former Silk Seer of the Wildspire Wastes... tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Her legs and arms clad in orange chitin, and fiery hair the color of the setting sun trailing well past her waist, the dark blue Temnoceran made herself known with a bow and a smile.
Utterly enormous in size, the Anjanath surprised to see her stretching all the way up to her torso, stood a silk clad Shrouded Nerscylla whose extremities and umentionables were barely kept presentable by tastefully placed wads of webbing. “...Former?” Alma found herself asking.
The spider's sextet of eyes drooped as she parted the orange and razor sharp mandibles clasped around the lower half of her head like a mask. “My role was made redundant ever since the Slayer of the Wastes abdicated their own.”
“...He wouldn't!” Alma gasped.
“Early warnings and hails of the Feral threat only amount to so much when no one is willing to act on them. Knowing that, my brother and I thought my time and talents were better spent elsewhere! Perhaps by aiding someone such as yourself who would be gracious enough to take advantage of them.”
The Anjanath, her jaw hanging slack, struggled to process the information being relayed to her. So she hadn't been imagining it?
The Shrouded Nerscylla's sapphire eyes all went half-lidded in unison. “Did. Did my brother, I mean, did the Silk Seer not tell you such? Of the Slayer of the Wastes abandoning his post?”
“...No.”
“SILAS, I swear to-” grumped the shapely spider. “Maybe I should begin at the... uh... beginning,” she ehehed. “Nikita, at your service,” she said with a wiggle of her spiny abdomen.
The Anjanath scrunched her lips and cocked a brow. “Hail, Silk Seer of the Sands. I am known as Alma. Slayer...” she paused a moment as her amber eyes swiveled along the bottom of their sockets. “Protector of the Ancient Forest and all who call it home.”
“Protector?” hummed Nikita as her mandibles curiously clacked together. “So. With regards to your incompetent compeers in the Wastes and the Highlands...”
Alma blinked incredulously. “Wait. What? The Highlands too?”
“...Brotherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” Nikita groused to herself.
Lost in thought, and smoke trailing from between her teeth, Alma coughed and cleared her throat. “I. Um. T-t-thank thee, Seer of the Sands. For your aid and for alerting me to much and more.”
“And just like that you've already done more than you know who ever has,” sighed the spider with a shake of her head. “And please! No need to be so formal! Just call me Nikita!” Looking to the sky, sun shimmering at its apex, the Shrouded Nerscylla's many eyes widened. Wait. Oh
shoot that was... that was happening now wasn't it? Was that why Silas hadn't told her yet?! Frantically flailing her many spindly arms, Nikita hurriedly bid the Anjanath farewell. “Until next time, Slayer! Which uhh. For both our sakes I hope is later than sooner.”
Skittering back beneath the canopy, the spider disappeared beneath the shade with a silky whistle.
Alma reluctantly turned her gaze to the Wildspire Wastes as she struggled to make sense of it all. “Don't tell me you've finally given up...” she sadly rumbled.
“Maybe we should just move on with the rest of the presentation,” Nyx tepidly inquired as the audience's interest, and patience, rapidly waned.
“One more, one last, try,” the Silk Seer begged of her with a whisper. “Ahemhemmmm... PROMINENT AMONG THEM,” shouted the spider as he cupped two spear like appendages around the side of his face and screamed himself hoarse.
“I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!” Nikita shouted back in a panic.
“About time,” Silas mumble grumbled under his breath. “As I was alluding to earlier, good Trainers, my role complements your own. And, as it turns out the Slayer's. Given how infrequently Hunters wander beyond the Ancient Forest's borders, my responsibilities to humankind are not all encompassing. As such my threads, my eyes, look for more than wayward Hunters. They spy for invading Ferals as well.”
With a dash of pinash the Nerscylla hummed as hollow pairs of eyes, wreathed with twinkling threads of silk, came into focus and could be seen strung up all around the clearing. “While the Slayer of the Forest is an ever vigilant sort her gaze cannot be cast everywhere. I fill in the gaps for her whence I can.”
The Silk Seer let his words hang for a moment before continuing apace. “As does the rest of the brood I was born into. My siblings, stationed near and far, serve much the same role across the Wildspire Wastes, the Coral Highlands, the Rotten Vale, and even the Elder's Recess.”
Darting among the trees, a shapely silhouette carved across the canopy. Hurtling forward, her orange chitin greaves scraping against worn smooth stone, the Shrouded Nerscylla rose to a stand and tossed back her silken hood with a smile.
“Long has our family proudly served alongside the Slayers. As of late however...” Silas said with a sigh as clacked his mandibles together. “They have begun ignoring our warnings. Or flouting them altogether.”
Self-righteous snarls rose from the crowd as their preconceived prejudices were all but affirmed.
“I said select Slayers! Not our own!” the Nerscylla tried to couch. “While our kin in the Coral Highlands parleys with Elder Velkhana, who is at least willing to entertain a dialogue where the Slayer of the Sands would not, my dear sister has returned from the Wildspire Wastes. As her talents are being wasted and allowed to wither on the vine... we both believe that her time is better spent here. Offering aid alongside my own. Not just as the Slayer's eyes but an extra pair of claws!”
“It'll be my pleasure!” said the Shrouded Nerscylla with a clap of her spear like arms.
“Furthermore,” Nyx followed up with a cough. “Seeing as how the Wildspire Wastes and Coral Highlands have become all the more unpredictable, and chaotic, it is unduly imperative that we as Trainers take our responsibilities all the more seriously. Never have there been such dangerous times in our land. For us or our Hunters.”
Lips wavering, the Shrouded Nerscylla nervously ehehed while her brother enthusiastically nodded along. “Speaking of, Lady Nyx!” Silas happily hum hummed as he looked towards the Trainer of Trainers. “If you'll forgive my intrusion, and lest I overstep my bounds, I was hoping to speak to that further!”
“Oh?” Twirling in place the spherical black furred bat bounced about midair in curiosity. “By all means!”
With a swish of his arms, unseen silken strands forcefully tugging on something tucked away in the undergrowth, the Silk Seer expectantly turned his attention offstage. Head held low, and an emphatic sigh wafting up and down in pitch, a familiar and all too humbled Hunter trudged out into the open.
Eyes gone wide, and fur puffed out, Nell squawked at the sight of her boyfriend being paraded around. Taras, just as dumbfounded, gestured at the batcat beside him in confusion.
Jet seethed with embarrassment. Lifting his helmeted head his heart caught in his throat at the sight of countless eyes upon him. It was one thing to be in Nell and Taras' presence. Much less Alma! Barely reaching past their knees, or ankles, was always daunting but at least it was in a one on one setting! Now though?
The Hunter forced down a panicked swallow as his eyes bulged out of his head and sweat poured down his back. Suffering Sapphire this was... this was nigh on every Trainer in the whole of Astera. With more giants and giantesses than he could count surrounding him, regarding him with curious if not dismissive glances, he'd never felt so small and insignificant in all his life.
The Nightshade Paolumu curiously squinted in earnest at the human hauled out before her. Wait a minute. That was one of Omar's whelps. The one from before even! What was he doing here?! But... better yet...
“Who among my Trainers...” Nyx pensively growled. Surely, surely, there was some way to tie him back to the guilty parties in the crowd.
“Ahem!” Silas spoke.
With a yelp, his nerves buckling in on themselves, Jet felt himself tugged beside the Silk Seer.
“A-a-ah! B-b-brother!” Shaking like a leaf, Nikita bunched her cloven feet together and leaned back as far as she was able from the barely shin-high Hunter. “You didn't mention there would be a h-h-human...”
“He was a bit of a late addition,” whispered Silas. “But I think he'll make the presentation all the more convincing! And cute!”
“That's... that's... that's wehhhhhh one word for it...” the Shrouded Nerscylla whined.
As a blue blush streaked across his cheeks the Silk Seer excitedly gestured to Jet. “Just look at that armor of his! That play pretend carapace! Isn't it just the most adorable little threat display you've ever seen?” the spider practically squealed.
Teeth rattling out of his skull, and senses dulling, Jet valiantly fought back the temptation to dissociate as his eyes wandered over the crowd. Juneau the Great Jagras, reclined all the way back in her sloping seat, snorted and twiddled her fingers at him. An Ebony Odogaron, her black scales blending in with the shade, eagerly elbowed a comparatively tiny red scaled canine beside her. Perking to attention, and aroo roo rooing gently, Orissa furiously waved at the Hunter.
Jet sheepishly waved back as the understated support and encouragement soothed his spirits. A-a-anyone and everyone really was here. All of the fabled, if not outright esteemed, Rookie and Advanced and Master Rank Trainers he'd never had a shot at working under were in attendance! Slowly regaining his composure, and utterly drowning out whatever it was the Silk Seer was waxing on about at length, he straightened his posture and bothered to put names to faces. Holy hells, there was the Yvette the Yian-Garuga! And Palsha the Pink Rathian!
Tugging at the gorget wrapped around his neck, the Hunter swallowed down a nervous laugh when THE Lorelei shot him a smile. Be still his beating heart. Eyes darting to and fro, his mind managing to function as he focused on a monster at a time rather than the multitude, he eventually locked gazes with a gob smacked Nell and Taras. It... it did his heart good to see the big, and admittedly beloved, Rookie and Master Trainers who marked the beginning and end of his journey in attendance. Head swiveling about, curious to see who else he might recognize, Jet-
HURK
Practically dying of boredom but a moment earlier a certain Pukei-Pukei's frown instantly turned upside down upon catching his gaze.
Beads of cold sweat collected upon Jet's brow. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Not her. Anyone but her.
“Hey there, Short Stuff,” she pointedly mouthed out to him with a malice filled smile. The feathered chameleon's yellow eyes, gone wide with surprise, burrowed into Jet with unmistakable ill intent as she flashed him a manic grin literally dripping with poison.
GULP
Jet's nerves nigh instantly shattered apart again as he struggled to look away from his beloathed Advanced Rank Trainer.
“Lady Nyx! Sister!” Dipping low, and cupping a claw around Jet's back, the Silk Seer gingerly guided him closer. “Won't you join me in giving-”
“WEH!” shrieked Nikita.
FWAM
Heads tilted back, everyone in attendance watched as the Shrouded Nerscylla hurtled up into the air and crashed herself clean through the canopy. Bunches of branches and leaves tumbled and slammed into the ground in her wake.
“Uhh...” The Silk Seer's sextet of sapphire eyes blink blinked and swished side to side as he shielded and sheltered the thoroughly confused Hunter from the debris. “L-l-lady Nyx! Please aid me in welcoming-”
“HIIIII JETTTTT!” bellowed the Pukei-Pukei. Hands clasped around her maw, she kicked her feet and giggled manically while she watched the Hunter wilt.
“...Hey Puck,” Jet limply replied.
Taras and Nell, while harsh and demanding with their rigors, always meant well and always encouraged him every step of the way. No matter how much his Rookie and ongoing Master Rank trials frustrated him he always knew they pushed him so hard because they cared about him. Because they didn't want him to come to harm.
Puck though? His Advanced Rank Trainer pushed him well beyond his breaking point explicitly because she DID.
The Pukei-Pukei narrowed her gaze as her striped orange and green tail flit behind her. “And here I was thinking this wouldn't be worth my while...” she contentedly cooed to herself.
“Ah ah ah! I understand you're eager but the audience participation portion will begin shortly,” the Silk Seer ahemed.
Head cocked to the side, Nyx curiously side-eyed the Hunter she recognized from the morning prior. “Jet, was it?” she growled.
“Indeed!” the Silk Seer clarified with a happy clack of his mandibles. “If we are going to work closer together it is imperative we better understand one another! While we are all familiar with your own great work I feel it is only fair I share with you how mine intersects with it. Such joy it brings me to parlay with, and permit, those Hunters you have given your blessing to venture into lands beyond our own! And Jet here has, most graciously at that, volunteered his time to aid with explaining as such!”
Indistinct mumbles tumbled out from the Hunter's fluted visor as he tugged down his helmet as far as it would go.
“It should segue smoothly enough into my own portion to present,” Nyx chuckled. Her eyes flit across the crowd as she delighted in drinking in a select trio of Trainer's expressions. Nell and Taras' outright shock... and Puck's demented glee. That was more than enough for her to work with. “I yield the floor, Silk Seer.”
Spear like arms splayed apart, Silas commanded the canopy to part while he and Jet both were bathed in sunlight. “As Silk Seer my work is entirely dependent on your own, esteemed Trainers! Those Hunters, those humans, that meet your metrics I am duly compelled to permit passage into the realms beyond! And corral those who do not,” he elaborated as he not so subtly side eyed Jet.
Rubbing at the back of his neck, Jet awkwardly whistled while the towering spider continued to monologue at length.
“You...” Taras whispered as he worriedly nudged Nell. “You don't think Jet tried to-”
“Why would he?” Nell dejectedly shot back. “He'd never leave us behind! You know that!” She knew, she just knew, that damnable Slayer was behind this SOMEHOW.
Spindly limbs bunched together, and brows arched, the Silk Seer giddily clacked his mandibles. “Speaking of! Let us illustrate an example of such!” Circling the pointed tips of his arms about one another he spun a wicked weave of threads along the forest floor. Trip wires, coated with dew splashing up from the trampled mosses, twinkled in the sunlight and demarcated a do not pass zone between himself and Jet. Turning to the Hunter he motioned for him to approach.
“Let us say we have a Hunter, perhaps too clever by half, thinking they can sneak out of the Ancient Forest's embrace without the needed say-so of you Trainers!”
At the Silk Seer's unspoken cue Jet groaned and proceeded to tip toe forward. Step by shaky step he deftly navigated the labyrinth of traps laid out for him.
The Silk Seer's eyes pulled flat. “...Hunter.”
“I'm sneaking aren't I?!” Jet responded in exasperation.
“Well quit doing such a good job of it!” hissed the Nerscylla.
Disarming, if not genuine, chuckles rose from the crowd and even Nyx herself. As the Trainer's waning interest flared to life Nell and Taras both quietly advanced through the crowd and drew closer to the stage.
With a roll of his eyes the Nerscylla held an upturned limb towards Jet and sank a spurt of webbing directly into his chest plate. Yoinking him forward, the Hunter acked when every trap and tripwire snapped apart against his shins. Good natured snorts sounded out at the perceived to be playful back and forth between the actors.
Clearing his throat the Silk Seer menacingly glared at Jet. “Good Hunter! What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintanceship!” Curved arms held out alongside the human he expectantly shook them side to side. “If you'd be so kind as to present your pendants, please.”
“Uhhh. W-w-well. You see-” Jet mumbled as he found himself thrust into the spotlight.
“All of them,” the Silk Seer firmly but gently insisted as he sneakily slid the stolen pendants back into Jet's grasp.
Jet trembled as the spider's enormous eyes, each and every one nearly as big as he was, hung heavily upon him. With great trepidation he reached inside his armor and produced the Rookie and Advanced Rank pendants wrapped around his neck. Hands trembling he hung them upon the edge of the spider's outstretched limb.
“Blue to blue. Red to red.” With a click of his tongue, the Silk Seer quizzically regarded Jet. “Good Hunter. Where is the proof of your Master Rank?”
“YEAH JET. WHERE IS IT?” Puck heckled.
Folds of fur scrunched along her snout, and beaked lips peeled back, the crimson mask stretching from Nell's eyes to her ears positively glowered. WHO DARED-
“Nell!” Taras frantically whispered as the Nargacuga wildly veered off course and, rather than skulking through the crowd unnoticed, broke a beeline straight for the Pukei-Pukei harassing her human. Her unfocused anxiety now had a target. “Nell no!”
“A valid question indeed!” the Silk Seer concurred. “You know full well I cannot let you pass into the wilds beyond without it. I understand the temptation to slip free of Ancient Forest's embrace is an alluring one! While some of you Hunters chafe and consider yourselves trapped here...”
Jet's shoulders relaxed as the Silk Seer's gaze softened along with his tone.
“There are settlements beyond here, ever under threat, where the humans that inhabit them think much the same. And would gladly trade places with you in an instant.” Limb held out before him he dangled a spear like appendage alongside Jet's head and jingled his pendants gently.
“I...”
“Curiosity kills, good Hunter. And while I could, I should, relieve you of these...” The Silk Seer tilted his spindly spear to the side just enough for the star shaped pendant to harmlessly fall into Jet's grasp. “I recognize that... it is important we give you the opportunity to learn from your mistakes. I know you meant no ill will.”
Fingers curling tight around the pendants, Jet clasped them to his chest in emphatic relief. Steadying his breathing he wrapped them around his neck once more and gratefully nodded to the spider.
“Have you anything to say for yourself, good Hunter?” hummed the Silk Seer. “Having seen the error of your ways?”
“Uhhhh.” Jet panicked and froze on the spot as all eyes were on him. What lines the Silk Seer had fed to him prior simply dripped out of his ears. “N-no?”
“...What do you mean no?” the Nerscylla grumped. His ire only raised all the higher as the crowd bought into what they presumed to be a bit. Arms flailing at his sides he stood on his tippy toes and irritably gestured to the Hunter. “Woe am I for questioning you so! Forgive me my trespass oh sagely Silk Seer! Anything, anything at all, along those lines?”
The nerves and anxiety caught up to Jet as what few lines he had been coached on were erased in an instant. “Hunters don't talk like that!”
“Well they do in my script!” hissed the Silk Seer.
“They don't in mine!”
Mandibles drooping, and eyes furrowed, the Nerscylla's arms hung limply at his sides. “...Gimme those pendants back you ungrateful little so and so!”
“AHH! NO!” Rolling side to side, Jet frantically flailed about as he dodged shots of silk to continued bouts of laughter.
With a grumble, Silas eventually got the bead on the unhelpful Hunter. Reeling in Jet, and strapping him to his chest once more for good measure, he grumpily harrumphed. “Lady Nyx. Trainers.” Malding to himself the spider glared down at Jet for ruining his time in the limelight. “I do believe you catch the gist of-”
“Hey now!” barked Orissa. Clawed hands cupped to her cheeks her spiny tail excitedly swished behind her. “What's it look like when they do have all their pendants?”
Nyx nodded along in agreement. She did so relish seeing one of Omar's whelps put in their place. “I must say, Silk Seer, I'm quite invested now! Surely you won't leave us hanging in anticipation?”
Blink blinking to himself the Nerscylla looked out to the crowd who, by now, had given Jet and himself their full attention. They... liked this? W-w-well then! Who was he to deny them what they wanted? “V-v-very well!” he whistled.
Dragging a pointed arm along Jet's chest he surgically sliced him free from his cocoon before lowering him to the forest floor. “Let us say we have a Hunter who, with the blessing of his terrific Trainers,” he said before gesturing to the audience, “confidently strides out into lands unknown! Knowing full well he has what it takes to not just survive but thrive!”
“Pshhhhh,” raspberried the Pukei-Pukei. “Who? Jet?”
“None other!” hummed the Silk Seer as he, unintentionally at that, rose to the Hunter's defense.
Clapping his spindly limbs together the Silk Seer excitedly eeheeed at the energy and enthusiasm of the crowd. Turning to Jet he repeated his practiced lines once more. “Good Hunter! What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintanceship!” he said with an exaggerated bow. Many arms held out alongside the human he expectantly shook them side to side. “If you'd be so kind as to present your pendants, please.”
“...Do I have to?” Jet mumbled. “We just went through-”
“YES.” With a roll of his eyes the spider hooked a limb under each of Jet's arms and tried shaking them free. “We'll just /imagine/ that you have a Master Rank pendant to present!”
“HAH!” guffawed Puck.
The Nerscylla's throat locked up at seeing Jet starting to wither away within his grasp. It. It was just an act he hadn't meant to... to... unf. Hrm. If... if the Hunter was willing to veer off script then so could he. “We'll treat it like a trial run,” Silas confidently whistled. “So that way our good Hunter knows exactly what to do when he has the proof of his Master Rank.” Setting Jet back down on his feet the Silk Seer went about weaving a star for the Hunter to present. Planting it into his palms he gingerly nudged at the human's armored shoulders. “Which I'm certain will be all too soon.”
Clasping the silken star to his chest, Jet forced a smile before handing it and his remaining pendants back.
Mandibles parting, Silas smiled back with as much warmth as he could manage. “Blue to blue. Red to red. And gold to gold. Why... good Hunter!” Said the Silk Seer as he delicately slid each and every pendant back over Jet's head. “I am all too happy to recognize your marks of mastery!”
“Puhlease!” the Pukei-Pukei cackled. “We all know the closest he'll ever get to leaving this place is by playing pretend with you.”
Swallowing his pride, Jet bit his tongue as he turned to face Puck. The color drained from his face when he did so. “Uhhhhhhh.”
“What?” Puck snarked.
“Oh my,” Silas nervously hissed as he protectively cupped Jet within his grasp.
Low growls, and the grating of teeth, answered the Bird Wyvern proper. As she curiously looked past her shoulder. Nell's ghastly visage, her yellow eyes aglow and crimsons strands of fur positively smoldering, glowered at her.
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
And in light of the danger confronting the New World, from within and without, the monsters and men inhabiting it must decide if they wish to grow closer together or drift further apart in response.
Thumbnail comes courtesy of
blackfoxguts!FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
“What was I thinking?!” Hands clutched against the back of her head, scarred fingers running through her mohawk, Alma gnashed her teeth. The Silk Seer was right. She was no friend to Ser Jet. Her act of so called kindness could very well have killed him! What if a Feral really had shown up? How would she keep him, much less herself, safe?
Flames billowed out from the gaps between her lips as the Anjanath trembled with self-loathing. Not only that but she had dishonored the Silk Seer for good measure! She didn't just question him but she shouted him down! What sort of self-respecting Slayer would do such a thing?!
Shadows swallowed up Alma's amber eyes as she angrily exhaled. “A fool. That's who,” she answered for herself. A fool who...
Her expression softened and self-directed rage dulled as it found itself bleeding back outwards. Heart racing, Alma recalled the abject fear and terror that flooded her frame when Ser Jet was ripped from her care. The dread she felt when she spied her... t-t-the Hunter so carelessly flung through the open air. The callousness with which he was cocooned and toyed about.
Chin tucked against her sternum, Alma blushed profusely. Even if she had erred... it was only because the Silk Seer had done so first. Ser Jet deserved far more respect than he displayed.
With a tired blink the Anjanath surveyed her surroundings. The sea of leaves whistled in the wind as upturned waves of chlorophyll whisked past. Forcing down a swallow Alma violently shook her head as she tried and failed to disperse the profuse blush carving itself into her cheeks. The ferocity with which she had responded at even the perception of danger to Ser Jet was... was...
Eyes clenched shut she slapped her clawed hands against the sides of her face. She feared for him. She cared for him. She...
“Such thoughts are unbecoming of a Slayer. Of a... Protector,” Alma bashfully mumbled to herself. The Anjanath was entrusted to protect all of the Ancient Forest and its inhabitants! Not just a select few! It was shameful behavior to fight so ferociously on a certain someone's behalf and not all others. No matter... no matter how they made her feel.
“...Oh who am I kidding,” whined the wumbo Wyvern. She cherished, she adored, she admired Ser Jet so. His kindness! His company! Simply being in his very presence made her feel like a person as opposed to a walking weapon! What she wouldn't give to cast aside her responsibilities and simply wile away the day with him. To talk herself hoarse with the kindred spirit, with the friend, she had sought for so long. To learn of everything she could about humans and share in their world. His world.
R̷̥̮͕̆͊A̷̢̢̛̛̦̮̱̅̄́̿̓̆͛̓͆̍̏͘͠Ơ̵̡̢̛̠͉͙̥̠̘͍̩̭̠̠̩̊̿̓́̎͑͌̉̍̌͂͝ͅO̵̖͔̯̽Ǫ̶̦̣̱̮͚̩̽͗̓͝͠Ǫ̶̡̛͚̬͉̙̭͔̳̬̓̍͂̎́̾̿̍̒̉͜O̴͙̰͈̱̪͕̬̬̙̰̰͍͉͋́̆̔̈́̓̅̔̓͆̆̉͐͝W̵͇̳̬͙̼̉Ẇ̸̢̛͇̭̫̩͕͖̝Ẃ̴̢̰̥̩̤̺̬̰̻̩͇̻͚͐́̆̆̓̽̈͜ͅẆ̷̢̛͙͚̱̔̈́̓̾̎͂̑͋̀̈͝R̴̮̣̺͉̈́̉͛̇̎̀̃
Perking to attention, Alma hmmphed as she slowly brandished her Sword and Shield. Until such a day came, if such a thing were possible, she would give her all to protect it. For Ser Jet.
Lumbering forward, the anchors hanging along her thighs catching against and snapping branches with ease, Alma raced through the Ancient Forest. Rushing through clouds of screeching Godbugs shuffling free from the canopy she slowly advanced towards the endless expanse of mountain crags scraping at the sky. Nestled high atop their coral kissed peaks lay the Coral Highlands and buried beneath it, festering and feeding the land itself, was the Rotten Vale. Thick clouds of mist, that only parted on the sunniest and most scorching of days, enveloped its peaks and hid it from any and all.
FWOOOOSH
Along with what hid within it.
Clouds trailing past its pointed silhouette a winged Wyvern descended from the heavens at breakneck speeds. A Shrieking Legiana, its once vibrant yellows having dulled and blackened from the blood stained sheets of frostbite that enveloped its extremities, mindlessly flapped its tattered wings as it hurtled straight towards the ground.
Ṛ̸̮̉̃̑̈͂̏̋̽́͆̈́̆͘͝O̶̢̮̤̟͇̗͎̟̅̅̍̀͐͌̈͂͝͝͝Ą̶̡͈̝͉̰̟̽̀̍̑̎̚͘A̴̡̨̤̣̺͎̬̯̪͕̣͍̿͜A̸̯͋̈́̾̐̌Ą̸̠͙͑͑̌́̽̈́̓A̴͓̩̩̬̭̺̟̞͓͇̪͊͐͌̓͑̀̈̀̋̏̚̕͜A̷̰̤̣̋̌͑͐͝Ấ̸̳̱̗̙̖̱̹̋̃̅͐͝À̸̧͍͙̭͇͈̄͗͘A̸̛͕̬͚̣̎̔̍̊́̅͆̏͘̚Ǎ̸̡̨̡͓͎̼̬̱͌A̵̢̤͔̞̯͎̖̜̳̥̟͔̺̒̂̎͘Ŗ̴̡̢̳̝͈̮̝̹̣̟͎̑̆́̉̔͂̎̾̋͜
Jaw peeled open as far as she was able, Alma screamed for its attention. Its dull and milky eyes squelched in their sockets when it registered her presence. Wings pulled in close it drilled through the air towards her as dagger like shards of blood stained hail trailed off of it.
Snout scrunched into a snarl Alma let rip a white hot gout of flame. As boiling hot steam and vaporized blood hissed off its form, clawed and skeletal fingers only held in place by the frostbite falling away, the Feral continued to surge straight through the inferno.
Shield raised-
The sizzling Feral, its scales and webbed flesh bubbling, slammed into the Anjanath. Tumbling head over heels, tree after tree after tree cracking and splintering apart beneath her, Alma's head spun. Spear sized shards of wood and branches stabbed into her broad back and shoulders as she ragdolled across the land.
“Hnngh...” Flat on her back, and vision blurry, Alma winced when a frigid and deafening gale washed over her. Hand cupped to a scraped raw cheek, the Slayer watched as the Shrieking Legiana buzzed overhead and a flash wave of frost came to cake her and chill her to the bone. Stumbling to her feet, blood trickling down her broad back and shoulders as the pikes embedded into her snapped apart with the tensing of her muscles, the Anjanath watched the Shrieking Legiana roll onto its side as it circled her. Perpendicular to the tops of the trees, its wings tracing along the wildly whipping sea of leaves, flash frozen death followed in the Feral's wake.
“Think,” Alma muttered as she adopted her battle ready stance. “Can Ser Jet's training aid me? And if so... how?”
To draw near would be disastrous. Every flap of its wings, and its every exhale, could drain the very life from her. Shoulders rising and falling, smoke trailing from her nostrils, Alma stoked the flames within her breast as the sheets of ice layered atop her melted away. Crimson stained slicks of water washed down her back.
“Perhaps not,” the Anjanath glumly acknowledged. He had duly warned her that different situations call for different tools and approaches. His training, his gifts, were meant to complement her own means and methods after all. Hmm. She could pepper it flames from afar. Set the whole of the canopy ablaze to wreath herself in hellfire and guard against its icy touch of death. And... and...
Bags formed under her eyes at the thought of standing triumphant over the Feral in a land rendered fallow and ashen. A pyrrhic victory if there ever was one. “Dammit all!” she snarled.
Licks of flame trailed out from the sides of Alma's maw as she strafed alongside the Shrieking Legiana. It felt as if the Ferals had been flowing freely, unceasingly, as of late from the Wildspire Wastes and Coral Highlands both. Just what were the other Slayers doing?! Was she the only one who truly cared anymore?
G̸̢̡̬̩̣̖͎̰͚̬̈́͂͛̀̉͝Ŕ̸̮̯̭̇̈́̓̆͆̊͠O̶̞̬̬̪̩̬̘̙͉̖̔̈́̓̂̒̀͋͗̉͋̒̚͠A̶̤̟͕͖͜͝ͅA̷̦̠̳̻̘̥̬͆̽̿̾̈́͜͝Ä̷̢̱͍̹̼̞͍̼̬̱̭̞͈́͋̽͑̅̀̀͊́́͐͆͝͠À̵̛̜̝̮̻͕͎͕̜̓̀̍̇͆͌̿̒̊̓̒͒̚A̸̢͍̫̣̮̘̳͆̒̄̌͂W̴̭̖̪̼͕͎͈̳͇͈̥̿̓͋̈́́̚͠R̸̦̯̖̓̅̋͆̔̏̈́̽͛̉͘͝R̶͖̗͚̝̗̹̊̅͐͋̀̋̐̐̿̔̋̊̕̚ͅŔ̵̡̡̯͍̗̜̝̟͕͖̲̼̈̎̐̾͜͝ͅ
The Feral, its head ominously snapping to attention, abruptly divebombed towards Alma. With flame filled roars she advanced to meet it even as piercing crags of ice erupted alongside her.
KADOOOOOOOM
“Nnghh!” As the moisture within the trees expanded and froze they explosively popped apart and assailed the Anjanath with shrapnel from all sides. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT. Eyes gone wide, what little restraint she held tight to melting away, Alma's pupils contracted into dagger like pinpricks as she could do little more than graze the Feral when it flew past. Drawing in deeply of the heavy and humid air, lungs filled to near bursting, she readied to exhale an inferno.
FWIP
Before Alma could commit to her conflagration, coiled threads of web leapt forth from the Ancient Forest and latched on to the Feral's flapping wings. The Shrieking Legiana flailed through the air, its limbs practically ripping out of its sockets, as its newfound tethers to the trees threw off its balance. Furiously did it flap, ice coming to cake the crumbling tethers, as it sought to right itself. Yet as soon as one line was shattered another snapped into place.
“Slayer!” an unfamiliar voice called out above the din. “I'd greatly appreciate you taking advantage of this opening I'm offering you!”
Flickers of cognizance flared back to life within Alma's eyes. With a shake of her head, she gathered herself and quickly reevaluated the ever shifting battlefield. As waves of ice radiated out from the Shrieking Legiana with every wave of its wings thickets of flash frozen trees continued to explode apart before and beneath it.
Brows furrowed, and breathing steadied, Alma clenched and throttled the muscles in her throat. She would just have to carve her own path forward. Hunched forward, and jaw propped open wide, she forced a narrow and super heated plume of flame at the Shrieking Legiana. Whittling down one wing, then the other, she melted away the soft flesh stretched along the length of its arm span as it screeched and howled in pain. Reduced to bloodied tatters the sheets of ice accompanying every flap trickled off to near nothing.
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Unable to keep itself airborne, the Feral crashed atop the tops of the frozen trees. Its own body and limbs, speared and impaled, continued to writhe. Yet still... still it staggered forward, uprooting the trees embedded into it, with defiant flaps of its bent backwards wings.
S̷̙̺̓͜͜H̸͉̪̮͇̦͓̭̱̼͍̻̱̠͈̑̑̄́́͘R̷̨͕̟͙̙͉̔́̅ͅỈ̶̢̛̪̖̫̖̈́̑̀̀̄͆̽̒E̸̡̖͔͇̻̻͔͖͖̟̩͎̩͈̮͝E̶͇͇͍̣̰̼̖͊̀͘͝ͅȨ̸̡̢̙̣̤̟̟̤̼͓̒̍̄̀̋̆̽̐͊̇ͅE̸̛̛̘̖̭͂̈͐̈́̿̔̓͑͗͜͝ͅE̶͔̳̾̅̀Ä̸̮́͐̎͑͛̕À̸̺̣͈̞͚̦̜̙̗̖͇̝̀̈͊͂̽̀͋͗̿̍̓͊A̵̧̡̨̤̖̦̩͉͎̜̝̹̅̋̇̅͘͜A̴͉̅́̿̄́̕͘͝A̶̛̭͋̈̇̆̌̑̏̇̇̅̃̎̚A̶̩̱̩̰̜̱͗̔͆́͌͊͊̀̍͂͝
Jaw popping out of place, the Shrieking Legiana exhaled a plume of liquid nitrogen at the Slayer. Even as daggers of ice punctured its own throat from the inside out, and its chest crumpled inwards, it refused to relent. It refused to die.
Alma, her eyes gone wide, somersaulted to the side.
FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Just as a rat a tat of explosions of rippled behind her. Tumbling through the Ancient Forest's undergrowth, her heels and dew claws churning through upturned earth and roots, the Anjanath eventually slid to a halt as sheets of rock and roots collected between her toes.
“What would...” panted the Brute Wyvern before diving out of the way of another blast of breath. “What would Ser Jet say?” Nostrils flared, and smoke trailing from her lips, Alma rattled her brain while she tried recalling the Hunter's words. There had to be something, anything, of his that she could bring to bear.
“That's what being a Hunter is all about. Adapting and improvising and putting your tools to work in ways only you could have thought of!” Jet's reassuring voice echoed in her head. “Your Sword and Shield are an extension of you. As is anything and everything else you can get your hands on.”
“...Anything and everything can be a tool?” she hummed. “Wait!” A flash of inspiration struck her with a gasp. Sheathing her misshapen if not circular buckler of a Shield upon the flutes of anchors jostling against her hips, Alma buried her clawed hands into the back of the tree. Then another. And another. Crashing them together, their great limbs crunching against and embedding themselves into one another, Alma held up her hastily cobbled together great shield.
Ŝ̴̡̪̦̰̳͉̠̲͇̲̄͒͝C̶̨̛̛̹̺̬̓̒́̾̊̇̚͘͝͝͝R̵̗̒̿̅͒̎̍̅̔̒̀͌͘͠E̵̢͚̖̲̠̤̮̲͙̱̱̫̬͓͋͌̌̾̎̽̏͘͝ͅȨ̶̤̩̥͖̲̘̟̭͔̪͛͒͑͘͜Ȇ̷̡̡͙͍̰͇̖̹̠͔̓̓̑̏̎̓̂̈́͂̏̕E̵̡̘͈̳͚̿̄Ę̴̨͇̜̲̝͈̜̦͇̰̤̦̺͌͐̌̆̊̓̀̚͜͝͝E̴̛̪͍͉͐́̂͛̄̓̃͂͛́̐̚Ę̶̨̡̦̯̙͉̺̩̣̮̫̲̍̓̔̔̅̉̓̽̽͗͠͝Ą̷̪̙̭̹͚̪̦̤̜͖̒͒̽͋́̾̓̕Ą̶̣̤̪̥̫̠̼͍̝̙̻̋̄̊͆̈́ͅA̵̡̡̛̫͔̠̘͊͊̌͌Ẫ̶̛͙̹̬̳̖̩̫̘͍͇̝̬̇̉͛̚͝A̷̧̧̧̰̦̪̺̺͉̰̰̤̜̾͑̅̓̒͌̿̂̓̋͌͜͝A̴̯̗͚̣͈̯̮̰͆̀̽̈́̿́́͊͛͐̏̓͗̚͘
Sprinting forward, her newfound armor ominously creaking as it grew heavier within her grasp, Alma desperately tossed the slab of ice aside when she felt herself crash into the Feral. Its head knocked back, and plume of liquid death billowing into the sky, the Slayer steeled herself as her impromptu shield ruptured apart beside her.
Dipping low, the Anjanath gripped the hilt of her Sword and gathered her breath. As the Feral's neck threatened to snap back into place, and an icy mist pooled out the sides of its distended maw, a string of silk clapped against the back of its head.
“ANYTIME, SLAYER!” Alma's unseen assistant screamed as they pulled the Shrieking Legiana's head back as far as they were able.
The Feral's milky white eyes locked with the Anjanath's own as it wildly whipped in place and all but broke its own neck to get a proper bead on her. Wasting no time, Alma drew her blade and leaped forth as it readied an existential exhale.
SHWICK
Arm tucked close against her chest, Alma drew her Sword with force enough to strip the surrounding trees bare. Slicing its breath attack in half, and smashing apart the Shrieking Legiana's pointed teeth as she stomped forward, the curved bone blade briefly caught against the Feral's lips.
FWIWSH
Before splitting its jaw in twain. With a defiant roar, Alma ripped the upper half of the Feral's head clean from its body. As it sailed into the sky, its eyes blinking out of sync, spurts of blackened blood and plumes of ice billowed free from the abomination's exposed esophagus. The partially decapitated monster briefly shambled and spasmed in place before collapsing into the earth.
With a heavy sigh Alma sheathed her Sword and cupped her hands close to her maw as she breathed fire over them. Replacing the frostburns biting at her fingertips with the those of her own flames she tiredly warmed herself in between haggard and shaky breaths.
“Have to say...” the unfamiliar voice from before spoke up. “This is a nice change of pace. A Slayer that. Well. Slays? Nice to know there are still some out there that treat their responsibilities with the gravitas they deserve.”
“...As one should,” the Anjanath uneasily answered. “To whom am I speaking to?”
A click of the tongue answered her. “Did. Did Silas really not tell you?”
“Forgive me, stranger,” Alma grunted. “But I know not this Silas. Or you. Your aid is much appreciated, however-”
“...Did he really not say anything about me?” the voice dumbly replied. “The Silk Seer, I mean? Nothing? Nothing at all?”
The Anjanath cocked a brow as she confusedly found herself drawn into the conversation. “The Silk Seer? I'll... confess that he wished to speak of me at length of matters of great import. Yet prior commitments called him away before he could elaborate any further.”
“OH FOR.”
Alma startled in place at the outburst of exasperation.
“That idiot...” spat her garrulous guest. “Augh. Fine! Since he couldn't be bothered to handle introductions I'll just have to do so myself.”
Snaggleteeth jutting out, and idly plucking free the spears embedded into her shoulders, Alma hummed when her mysterious helper made herself known. Carefully sidling past trees both frozen and aflame stepped forth an enormous spider.
“Hail, Slayer. As the former Silk Seer of the Wildspire Wastes... tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Her legs and arms clad in orange chitin, and fiery hair the color of the setting sun trailing well past her waist, the dark blue Temnoceran made herself known with a bow and a smile.
Utterly enormous in size, the Anjanath surprised to see her stretching all the way up to her torso, stood a silk clad Shrouded Nerscylla whose extremities and umentionables were barely kept presentable by tastefully placed wads of webbing. “...Former?” Alma found herself asking.
The spider's sextet of eyes drooped as she parted the orange and razor sharp mandibles clasped around the lower half of her head like a mask. “My role was made redundant ever since the Slayer of the Wastes abdicated their own.”
“...He wouldn't!” Alma gasped.
“Early warnings and hails of the Feral threat only amount to so much when no one is willing to act on them. Knowing that, my brother and I thought my time and talents were better spent elsewhere! Perhaps by aiding someone such as yourself who would be gracious enough to take advantage of them.”
The Anjanath, her jaw hanging slack, struggled to process the information being relayed to her. So she hadn't been imagining it?
The Shrouded Nerscylla's sapphire eyes all went half-lidded in unison. “Did. Did my brother, I mean, did the Silk Seer not tell you such? Of the Slayer of the Wastes abandoning his post?”
“...No.”
“SILAS, I swear to-” grumped the shapely spider. “Maybe I should begin at the... uh... beginning,” she ehehed. “Nikita, at your service,” she said with a wiggle of her spiny abdomen.
The Anjanath scrunched her lips and cocked a brow. “Hail, Silk Seer of the Sands. I am known as Alma. Slayer...” she paused a moment as her amber eyes swiveled along the bottom of their sockets. “Protector of the Ancient Forest and all who call it home.”
“Protector?” hummed Nikita as her mandibles curiously clacked together. “So. With regards to your incompetent compeers in the Wastes and the Highlands...”
Alma blinked incredulously. “Wait. What? The Highlands too?”
“...Brotherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” Nikita groused to herself.
Lost in thought, and smoke trailing from between her teeth, Alma coughed and cleared her throat. “I. Um. T-t-thank thee, Seer of the Sands. For your aid and for alerting me to much and more.”
“And just like that you've already done more than you know who ever has,” sighed the spider with a shake of her head. “And please! No need to be so formal! Just call me Nikita!” Looking to the sky, sun shimmering at its apex, the Shrouded Nerscylla's many eyes widened. Wait. Oh
shoot that was... that was happening now wasn't it? Was that why Silas hadn't told her yet?! Frantically flailing her many spindly arms, Nikita hurriedly bid the Anjanath farewell. “Until next time, Slayer! Which uhh. For both our sakes I hope is later than sooner.”
Skittering back beneath the canopy, the spider disappeared beneath the shade with a silky whistle.
Alma reluctantly turned her gaze to the Wildspire Wastes as she struggled to make sense of it all. “Don't tell me you've finally given up...” she sadly rumbled.
“Maybe we should just move on with the rest of the presentation,” Nyx tepidly inquired as the audience's interest, and patience, rapidly waned.
“One more, one last, try,” the Silk Seer begged of her with a whisper. “Ahemhemmmm... PROMINENT AMONG THEM,” shouted the spider as he cupped two spear like appendages around the side of his face and screamed himself hoarse.
“I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!” Nikita shouted back in a panic.
“About time,” Silas mumble grumbled under his breath. “As I was alluding to earlier, good Trainers, my role complements your own. And, as it turns out the Slayer's. Given how infrequently Hunters wander beyond the Ancient Forest's borders, my responsibilities to humankind are not all encompassing. As such my threads, my eyes, look for more than wayward Hunters. They spy for invading Ferals as well.”
With a dash of pinash the Nerscylla hummed as hollow pairs of eyes, wreathed with twinkling threads of silk, came into focus and could be seen strung up all around the clearing. “While the Slayer of the Forest is an ever vigilant sort her gaze cannot be cast everywhere. I fill in the gaps for her whence I can.”
The Silk Seer let his words hang for a moment before continuing apace. “As does the rest of the brood I was born into. My siblings, stationed near and far, serve much the same role across the Wildspire Wastes, the Coral Highlands, the Rotten Vale, and even the Elder's Recess.”
Darting among the trees, a shapely silhouette carved across the canopy. Hurtling forward, her orange chitin greaves scraping against worn smooth stone, the Shrouded Nerscylla rose to a stand and tossed back her silken hood with a smile.
“Long has our family proudly served alongside the Slayers. As of late however...” Silas said with a sigh as clacked his mandibles together. “They have begun ignoring our warnings. Or flouting them altogether.”
Self-righteous snarls rose from the crowd as their preconceived prejudices were all but affirmed.
“I said select Slayers! Not our own!” the Nerscylla tried to couch. “While our kin in the Coral Highlands parleys with Elder Velkhana, who is at least willing to entertain a dialogue where the Slayer of the Sands would not, my dear sister has returned from the Wildspire Wastes. As her talents are being wasted and allowed to wither on the vine... we both believe that her time is better spent here. Offering aid alongside my own. Not just as the Slayer's eyes but an extra pair of claws!”
“It'll be my pleasure!” said the Shrouded Nerscylla with a clap of her spear like arms.
“Furthermore,” Nyx followed up with a cough. “Seeing as how the Wildspire Wastes and Coral Highlands have become all the more unpredictable, and chaotic, it is unduly imperative that we as Trainers take our responsibilities all the more seriously. Never have there been such dangerous times in our land. For us or our Hunters.”
Lips wavering, the Shrouded Nerscylla nervously ehehed while her brother enthusiastically nodded along. “Speaking of, Lady Nyx!” Silas happily hum hummed as he looked towards the Trainer of Trainers. “If you'll forgive my intrusion, and lest I overstep my bounds, I was hoping to speak to that further!”
“Oh?” Twirling in place the spherical black furred bat bounced about midair in curiosity. “By all means!”
With a swish of his arms, unseen silken strands forcefully tugging on something tucked away in the undergrowth, the Silk Seer expectantly turned his attention offstage. Head held low, and an emphatic sigh wafting up and down in pitch, a familiar and all too humbled Hunter trudged out into the open.
Eyes gone wide, and fur puffed out, Nell squawked at the sight of her boyfriend being paraded around. Taras, just as dumbfounded, gestured at the batcat beside him in confusion.
Jet seethed with embarrassment. Lifting his helmeted head his heart caught in his throat at the sight of countless eyes upon him. It was one thing to be in Nell and Taras' presence. Much less Alma! Barely reaching past their knees, or ankles, was always daunting but at least it was in a one on one setting! Now though?
The Hunter forced down a panicked swallow as his eyes bulged out of his head and sweat poured down his back. Suffering Sapphire this was... this was nigh on every Trainer in the whole of Astera. With more giants and giantesses than he could count surrounding him, regarding him with curious if not dismissive glances, he'd never felt so small and insignificant in all his life.
The Nightshade Paolumu curiously squinted in earnest at the human hauled out before her. Wait a minute. That was one of Omar's whelps. The one from before even! What was he doing here?! But... better yet...
“Who among my Trainers...” Nyx pensively growled. Surely, surely, there was some way to tie him back to the guilty parties in the crowd.
“Ahem!” Silas spoke.
With a yelp, his nerves buckling in on themselves, Jet felt himself tugged beside the Silk Seer.
“A-a-ah! B-b-brother!” Shaking like a leaf, Nikita bunched her cloven feet together and leaned back as far as she was able from the barely shin-high Hunter. “You didn't mention there would be a h-h-human...”
“He was a bit of a late addition,” whispered Silas. “But I think he'll make the presentation all the more convincing! And cute!”
“That's... that's... that's wehhhhhh one word for it...” the Shrouded Nerscylla whined.
As a blue blush streaked across his cheeks the Silk Seer excitedly gestured to Jet. “Just look at that armor of his! That play pretend carapace! Isn't it just the most adorable little threat display you've ever seen?” the spider practically squealed.
Teeth rattling out of his skull, and senses dulling, Jet valiantly fought back the temptation to dissociate as his eyes wandered over the crowd. Juneau the Great Jagras, reclined all the way back in her sloping seat, snorted and twiddled her fingers at him. An Ebony Odogaron, her black scales blending in with the shade, eagerly elbowed a comparatively tiny red scaled canine beside her. Perking to attention, and aroo roo rooing gently, Orissa furiously waved at the Hunter.
Jet sheepishly waved back as the understated support and encouragement soothed his spirits. A-a-anyone and everyone really was here. All of the fabled, if not outright esteemed, Rookie and Advanced and Master Rank Trainers he'd never had a shot at working under were in attendance! Slowly regaining his composure, and utterly drowning out whatever it was the Silk Seer was waxing on about at length, he straightened his posture and bothered to put names to faces. Holy hells, there was the Yvette the Yian-Garuga! And Palsha the Pink Rathian!
Tugging at the gorget wrapped around his neck, the Hunter swallowed down a nervous laugh when THE Lorelei shot him a smile. Be still his beating heart. Eyes darting to and fro, his mind managing to function as he focused on a monster at a time rather than the multitude, he eventually locked gazes with a gob smacked Nell and Taras. It... it did his heart good to see the big, and admittedly beloved, Rookie and Master Trainers who marked the beginning and end of his journey in attendance. Head swiveling about, curious to see who else he might recognize, Jet-
HURK
Practically dying of boredom but a moment earlier a certain Pukei-Pukei's frown instantly turned upside down upon catching his gaze.
Beads of cold sweat collected upon Jet's brow. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Not her. Anyone but her.
“Hey there, Short Stuff,” she pointedly mouthed out to him with a malice filled smile. The feathered chameleon's yellow eyes, gone wide with surprise, burrowed into Jet with unmistakable ill intent as she flashed him a manic grin literally dripping with poison.
GULP
Jet's nerves nigh instantly shattered apart again as he struggled to look away from his beloathed Advanced Rank Trainer.
“Lady Nyx! Sister!” Dipping low, and cupping a claw around Jet's back, the Silk Seer gingerly guided him closer. “Won't you join me in giving-”
“WEH!” shrieked Nikita.
FWAM
Heads tilted back, everyone in attendance watched as the Shrouded Nerscylla hurtled up into the air and crashed herself clean through the canopy. Bunches of branches and leaves tumbled and slammed into the ground in her wake.
“Uhh...” The Silk Seer's sextet of sapphire eyes blink blinked and swished side to side as he shielded and sheltered the thoroughly confused Hunter from the debris. “L-l-lady Nyx! Please aid me in welcoming-”
“HIIIII JETTTTT!” bellowed the Pukei-Pukei. Hands clasped around her maw, she kicked her feet and giggled manically while she watched the Hunter wilt.
“...Hey Puck,” Jet limply replied.
Taras and Nell, while harsh and demanding with their rigors, always meant well and always encouraged him every step of the way. No matter how much his Rookie and ongoing Master Rank trials frustrated him he always knew they pushed him so hard because they cared about him. Because they didn't want him to come to harm.
Puck though? His Advanced Rank Trainer pushed him well beyond his breaking point explicitly because she DID.
The Pukei-Pukei narrowed her gaze as her striped orange and green tail flit behind her. “And here I was thinking this wouldn't be worth my while...” she contentedly cooed to herself.
“Ah ah ah! I understand you're eager but the audience participation portion will begin shortly,” the Silk Seer ahemed.
Head cocked to the side, Nyx curiously side-eyed the Hunter she recognized from the morning prior. “Jet, was it?” she growled.
“Indeed!” the Silk Seer clarified with a happy clack of his mandibles. “If we are going to work closer together it is imperative we better understand one another! While we are all familiar with your own great work I feel it is only fair I share with you how mine intersects with it. Such joy it brings me to parlay with, and permit, those Hunters you have given your blessing to venture into lands beyond our own! And Jet here has, most graciously at that, volunteered his time to aid with explaining as such!”
Indistinct mumbles tumbled out from the Hunter's fluted visor as he tugged down his helmet as far as it would go.
“It should segue smoothly enough into my own portion to present,” Nyx chuckled. Her eyes flit across the crowd as she delighted in drinking in a select trio of Trainer's expressions. Nell and Taras' outright shock... and Puck's demented glee. That was more than enough for her to work with. “I yield the floor, Silk Seer.”
Spear like arms splayed apart, Silas commanded the canopy to part while he and Jet both were bathed in sunlight. “As Silk Seer my work is entirely dependent on your own, esteemed Trainers! Those Hunters, those humans, that meet your metrics I am duly compelled to permit passage into the realms beyond! And corral those who do not,” he elaborated as he not so subtly side eyed Jet.
Rubbing at the back of his neck, Jet awkwardly whistled while the towering spider continued to monologue at length.
“You...” Taras whispered as he worriedly nudged Nell. “You don't think Jet tried to-”
“Why would he?” Nell dejectedly shot back. “He'd never leave us behind! You know that!” She knew, she just knew, that damnable Slayer was behind this SOMEHOW.
Spindly limbs bunched together, and brows arched, the Silk Seer giddily clacked his mandibles. “Speaking of! Let us illustrate an example of such!” Circling the pointed tips of his arms about one another he spun a wicked weave of threads along the forest floor. Trip wires, coated with dew splashing up from the trampled mosses, twinkled in the sunlight and demarcated a do not pass zone between himself and Jet. Turning to the Hunter he motioned for him to approach.
“Let us say we have a Hunter, perhaps too clever by half, thinking they can sneak out of the Ancient Forest's embrace without the needed say-so of you Trainers!”
At the Silk Seer's unspoken cue Jet groaned and proceeded to tip toe forward. Step by shaky step he deftly navigated the labyrinth of traps laid out for him.
The Silk Seer's eyes pulled flat. “...Hunter.”
“I'm sneaking aren't I?!” Jet responded in exasperation.
“Well quit doing such a good job of it!” hissed the Nerscylla.
Disarming, if not genuine, chuckles rose from the crowd and even Nyx herself. As the Trainer's waning interest flared to life Nell and Taras both quietly advanced through the crowd and drew closer to the stage.
With a roll of his eyes the Nerscylla held an upturned limb towards Jet and sank a spurt of webbing directly into his chest plate. Yoinking him forward, the Hunter acked when every trap and tripwire snapped apart against his shins. Good natured snorts sounded out at the perceived to be playful back and forth between the actors.
Clearing his throat the Silk Seer menacingly glared at Jet. “Good Hunter! What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintanceship!” Curved arms held out alongside the human he expectantly shook them side to side. “If you'd be so kind as to present your pendants, please.”
“Uhhh. W-w-well. You see-” Jet mumbled as he found himself thrust into the spotlight.
“All of them,” the Silk Seer firmly but gently insisted as he sneakily slid the stolen pendants back into Jet's grasp.
Jet trembled as the spider's enormous eyes, each and every one nearly as big as he was, hung heavily upon him. With great trepidation he reached inside his armor and produced the Rookie and Advanced Rank pendants wrapped around his neck. Hands trembling he hung them upon the edge of the spider's outstretched limb.
“Blue to blue. Red to red.” With a click of his tongue, the Silk Seer quizzically regarded Jet. “Good Hunter. Where is the proof of your Master Rank?”
“YEAH JET. WHERE IS IT?” Puck heckled.
Folds of fur scrunched along her snout, and beaked lips peeled back, the crimson mask stretching from Nell's eyes to her ears positively glowered. WHO DARED-
“Nell!” Taras frantically whispered as the Nargacuga wildly veered off course and, rather than skulking through the crowd unnoticed, broke a beeline straight for the Pukei-Pukei harassing her human. Her unfocused anxiety now had a target. “Nell no!”
“A valid question indeed!” the Silk Seer concurred. “You know full well I cannot let you pass into the wilds beyond without it. I understand the temptation to slip free of Ancient Forest's embrace is an alluring one! While some of you Hunters chafe and consider yourselves trapped here...”
Jet's shoulders relaxed as the Silk Seer's gaze softened along with his tone.
“There are settlements beyond here, ever under threat, where the humans that inhabit them think much the same. And would gladly trade places with you in an instant.” Limb held out before him he dangled a spear like appendage alongside Jet's head and jingled his pendants gently.
“I...”
“Curiosity kills, good Hunter. And while I could, I should, relieve you of these...” The Silk Seer tilted his spindly spear to the side just enough for the star shaped pendant to harmlessly fall into Jet's grasp. “I recognize that... it is important we give you the opportunity to learn from your mistakes. I know you meant no ill will.”
Fingers curling tight around the pendants, Jet clasped them to his chest in emphatic relief. Steadying his breathing he wrapped them around his neck once more and gratefully nodded to the spider.
“Have you anything to say for yourself, good Hunter?” hummed the Silk Seer. “Having seen the error of your ways?”
“Uhhhh.” Jet panicked and froze on the spot as all eyes were on him. What lines the Silk Seer had fed to him prior simply dripped out of his ears. “N-no?”
“...What do you mean no?” the Nerscylla grumped. His ire only raised all the higher as the crowd bought into what they presumed to be a bit. Arms flailing at his sides he stood on his tippy toes and irritably gestured to the Hunter. “Woe am I for questioning you so! Forgive me my trespass oh sagely Silk Seer! Anything, anything at all, along those lines?”
The nerves and anxiety caught up to Jet as what few lines he had been coached on were erased in an instant. “Hunters don't talk like that!”
“Well they do in my script!” hissed the Silk Seer.
“They don't in mine!”
Mandibles drooping, and eyes furrowed, the Nerscylla's arms hung limply at his sides. “...Gimme those pendants back you ungrateful little so and so!”
“AHH! NO!” Rolling side to side, Jet frantically flailed about as he dodged shots of silk to continued bouts of laughter.
With a grumble, Silas eventually got the bead on the unhelpful Hunter. Reeling in Jet, and strapping him to his chest once more for good measure, he grumpily harrumphed. “Lady Nyx. Trainers.” Malding to himself the spider glared down at Jet for ruining his time in the limelight. “I do believe you catch the gist of-”
“Hey now!” barked Orissa. Clawed hands cupped to her cheeks her spiny tail excitedly swished behind her. “What's it look like when they do have all their pendants?”
Nyx nodded along in agreement. She did so relish seeing one of Omar's whelps put in their place. “I must say, Silk Seer, I'm quite invested now! Surely you won't leave us hanging in anticipation?”
Blink blinking to himself the Nerscylla looked out to the crowd who, by now, had given Jet and himself their full attention. They... liked this? W-w-well then! Who was he to deny them what they wanted? “V-v-very well!” he whistled.
Dragging a pointed arm along Jet's chest he surgically sliced him free from his cocoon before lowering him to the forest floor. “Let us say we have a Hunter who, with the blessing of his terrific Trainers,” he said before gesturing to the audience, “confidently strides out into lands unknown! Knowing full well he has what it takes to not just survive but thrive!”
“Pshhhhh,” raspberried the Pukei-Pukei. “Who? Jet?”
“None other!” hummed the Silk Seer as he, unintentionally at that, rose to the Hunter's defense.
Clapping his spindly limbs together the Silk Seer excitedly eeheeed at the energy and enthusiasm of the crowd. Turning to Jet he repeated his practiced lines once more. “Good Hunter! What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintanceship!” he said with an exaggerated bow. Many arms held out alongside the human he expectantly shook them side to side. “If you'd be so kind as to present your pendants, please.”
“...Do I have to?” Jet mumbled. “We just went through-”
“YES.” With a roll of his eyes the spider hooked a limb under each of Jet's arms and tried shaking them free. “We'll just /imagine/ that you have a Master Rank pendant to present!”
“HAH!” guffawed Puck.
The Nerscylla's throat locked up at seeing Jet starting to wither away within his grasp. It. It was just an act he hadn't meant to... to... unf. Hrm. If... if the Hunter was willing to veer off script then so could he. “We'll treat it like a trial run,” Silas confidently whistled. “So that way our good Hunter knows exactly what to do when he has the proof of his Master Rank.” Setting Jet back down on his feet the Silk Seer went about weaving a star for the Hunter to present. Planting it into his palms he gingerly nudged at the human's armored shoulders. “Which I'm certain will be all too soon.”
Clasping the silken star to his chest, Jet forced a smile before handing it and his remaining pendants back.
Mandibles parting, Silas smiled back with as much warmth as he could manage. “Blue to blue. Red to red. And gold to gold. Why... good Hunter!” Said the Silk Seer as he delicately slid each and every pendant back over Jet's head. “I am all too happy to recognize your marks of mastery!”
“Puhlease!” the Pukei-Pukei cackled. “We all know the closest he'll ever get to leaving this place is by playing pretend with you.”
Swallowing his pride, Jet bit his tongue as he turned to face Puck. The color drained from his face when he did so. “Uhhhhhhh.”
“What?” Puck snarked.
“Oh my,” Silas nervously hissed as he protectively cupped Jet within his grasp.
Low growls, and the grating of teeth, answered the Bird Wyvern proper. As she curiously looked past her shoulder. Nell's ghastly visage, her yellow eyes aglow and crimsons strands of fur positively smoldering, glowered at her.
FIRST, PREVIOUS, NEXT
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 98px
File Size 194.2 kB
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