Vraxious—The Forsaken Lands

  Vrax finished pouring intelligence into the shimmering willow and took a good step back. So far, making things smarter has had rather disparate results. He didn’t know what it would do next. The rings of darting eyes on the tree all locked onto him almost instantly. Then it used its new muscles for the first time.

  The left half of the tree whipped forward in a shower of soil, soon followed by the right as it unburdened its roots and stepped forward closer to Vrax. Vrax chuckled to himself. “Alright, it hasn’t gone on a killing spree yet and hasn’t flung itself at the nearest edible creature. That’s a good sign.” His eyes drifted over a cluster of deadly butterflies fluttering through the air nearby. I mean, it's not the worst time to try out my new melding ability…

  [Mana 89/204]

  Hopefully it's enough, although what the heck will happen? Am I about to create some useless deformed monstrosity...? Only one way to find out!

  Vrax really wasn’t sure if one would be enough, so he carefully caught three of the bladed reflective butterflies, holding them in a pinched grip by the wings. They were mean little bastards; up close he could see sickle-like arms and wickedly large meat-eating mandibles. One got on his hand and managed to slice its way nearly through his gauntlet before he got ahold of it.

  Alright, hold still, you little bastards...also sorry about this… Vrax put one hand onto the willow, and in the other he held the three hungry butterflies [Adapt life]. Answered his call with a stream of power that began to utterly unmake the butterflies layer by layer; they ceased to exist, being reduced into a fine silvery shimmer that traveled through Vrax’s armor and into the tree.

  Then things got weird; Vrax’s mana dangerously fled from him. “Oh shit! Oh shit!” Vrax tried to cut off [Adapt Life], but whatever process he had started was not one that could be interrupted. The last thing he saw as the world around him dimmed from mana overdraw was wings, beautiful shimmering gossamer wings somehow made from an unfathomable crystalline weave.

  Vrax woke up with a start; the sun overhead had traveled noticeably toward the horizon, now putting him at mid-evening. Oh, okay, holy shit. I blacked out in the forsaken lands and didn’t die. That’s a pleasant surprise, but I’ve been out for hours. Fuck, the paladins!

  Vrax pulled himself to his feet groggily and wobbled into the cover of a nearby willow stump. Wait, a stump? Vrax’s eyes slowly cleared; overusing your mana was a rough experience and could easily be fatal if you went too far. He was just glad a hangover-like feeling and some blurry vision were the worst of it. Vrax Looked around in growing concern, the patch of willows he was in had been utterly decimated; something had slashed through this stand of trees in massive sweeping blows that rent entire trees in half with impossibly perfect cuts.

  Ohhkay...I'll worry about what the fuck I made later. Where are those assholes? Vrax could still see the three paladins standing unmoving in the field, the banner flickering dramatically. It didn’t look like they had moved much…or at all while Vrax was out cold…uhh…oh fuck me, that’s an illusion, isn’t it? Goddammit, that’s what I get for assuming they are going to approach this like idiots. If my monster went ham on something here...and they are fucking sneaking around hunting me, there's no way they don't know where I am.

  Vrax staggered back from the edge of the field and began slinking deeper into the almost distressingly reflective stands of trees. His pace was slow and measured, focusing all his attention on his enhanced hearing. The flutter of wings and the faint chime of the gem-like flora tinkling against itself, slightly overshadowed by the scrabbling of small animals, were the dominant sounds at first. As he focused farther into the distance, he heard it and them.

  The clinks of metal rubbed against metal from finely crafted suits of armor and chain mail approached from both sides of him. The Paladins must have entered the grove while he was unconscious and split into two groups to encircle him. From the sounds of it, it was far more than just the three resplendent warriors they had used in the distractionary illusion.

  Farther into the woods, he could hear an unhealthy-sounding gasping breath that went on for far too long, followed by the snap of wings and the sound of a tree being felled. Okay, wow, none of this is going to plan so far. The fucking paladins came ready to end this shit, and instead of leaving them a surprise, I made gods know what and gave away my position.

  Vrax slowly picked up speed as he weaved through the trees, vaulting over a low fence and landing onto the same path he had followed all those months ago. Instead of creeping like he did last time, Vrax sprinted past the ages-old savaged homes, using every iota of speed he could muster to gain on the paladins some before he reached the junction that held the burned tree. That was where he had found the Spriggan last time.

  He was still hoping to just sneak past the Spriggan and let everyone chasing him deal with it. But if that didn’t work, Vrax was hoping his connection to Vurune would keep him alive. His steps slowed as the crooked blackened branches of a once glorious tree rose into view ahead. Vrax gasped to catch his breath; the very air here was heavy with sorrow and malice, and each breath tasted of blood and ash.

  The trees around the junction were a sickly, leafless collection of white husks that looked more like bones than any trees Vrax had seen before; their smooth, pale surfaces were only broken by four-fingered claw marks that nearly pierced all the way through. There was no grass around the cobblestone juncture for nearly a dozen strides, only a blackened circle of earth that crunched slightly as Vrax circled around the foreboding black tree sitting dead center in the confluence of pathways.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Vrax adjusted his stride, trying to walk quieter, and froze midstep as something in the very air changed. A weight pressed down on his soul, whispering at the edges of his mind. An incoherent babbling scream flowed through his psyche, accompanied by the soft crackle of flames. Oh gods, it knows I'm here this time. Vrax looked around for cover, but other than the damned white trees and a slight stone wall around the junction, there was nowhere nearby to hide.

  He leapt behind the nearest tree for cover, peeking out, hoping, looking for any clear lines of escape. The forest around him groaned out in fear; the white trees creaked desperately as it approached. Faint wisps of fire started impossibly on the ashy ground before snuffing out with a hiss. Then suddenly it was there, standing on the edges of the charred ground, looking directly at Vrax.

  It must have been beautiful once before whatever had happened to it and the grove. It stood tall in the shape of a lanky man with slightly too long limbs, the hands ending in four clawed fingers. The blades of the claws were so long they gently brushed against the ash on the ground. There were no eyes on its featureless face, only burned-out pits shaped like eye sockets. Where it should have had a mouth was simply a crack in its smooth wooden face.

  The entirety of its once beautiful body was a charred mass of bark with a single small patch of still pristine white bark jarringly shining through on its palms. It must have once had a massive mane of leaves that trailed from its crown, but now there was nothing but the crumbling ends of tiny branches.

  The way it moved towards Vrax was fundamentally wrong. Its steps were uneven and far too fast, its arms raised higher than needed and twitching randomly each stride. It lurched in his direction like it was a marionette dragged forward by an unseen master. None of its halting movements made it any less terrifyingly fast. It closed the thirty strides between them in a single of Vrax’’s pounding heartbeats.

  It stopped face-to-face with Vrax, so close he could feel the warmth radiating from its bark as it slowly ran a claw across the front of his helm with a grinding scrape. It spoke in a groaning, creaking voice that drew out every word like it would be the last you ever heard: “Child of man, weak of flesh and brittle of bone, you don’t belong among my ashes…” It seemed to pause for a moment, like it recalled a memory.

  Vrax didn’t dare respond yet. “Yet within that flesh...pulsing obscenely with every beat does sit the blessing of the feast father…” The Spriggan began slowly circling him, drawing its claw lightly along his armor as it went, carving a slight groove.

  It Voice hissed out behind Vrax’s ear, “But where was the feast, Father, when they came…” The Spiggans’ calm voice rose into a wild, tormented scream: “Where were the feast fathers’ warriors when my children burned!” It suddenly was in front of Vrax, claws raised to strike. It froze there for a moment, twitching like there was a war happening within its mind.

  Its stance changes suddenly, like a switch flipped. “No... no, that was just a dream. The children are fine... this must be the new tutor…” It mumbled mostly to itself. Vrax was frozen; he could try and fight, but that felt like suicide. I'm going to die; this thing is fucking insane. Whatever happened to it broke it.

  Then it straightened up suddenly, looking far less savage. “Ahh, you must be the new tutor. As you can see, the children have just been watered and are ready for their lessons before the feeding!” It sounded almost jovial as it gestured towards the burned patch of ground.

  Vrax grasped out for the lifeline this thing's madness had offered him. “Ahh, wonderful. Uhm, what subject should I pursue today…” gods I don’t think I’ve ever wanted paladins to get to me faster before…

  The Spriggan seemed to think calmly for a moment before looking around slowly; its movement started becoming jittery again, and it began pacing back and forth. “The children…the children…the children…” Its words were trailing into wrathful madness again.

  Vrax tried to bring it back to its delusion. “Do the basics of mana conflux sound acceptable, lord?” He went with the most polite mannerisms and slow, pleasant speech he possibly could.

  The spriggan stopped suddenly, turning to him so fast Vrax didn’t see it move. “Yes...yes, that should be fine... Omicron might need some extra tutoring after the main class, though, so be sure to give him what he needs… what they need...they need to feed the feast Father promised us sacrifices where…where…where are my children…?” Vrax started slowly backing away from the spriggan as it drew its claws down its own face with a horrible shredding sound that tore gouges into the charred wood that dripped a glowing green sap.

  The sound of running feet and the clank of armor drew both of their gazes out towards the surroundings as the forces of Rembrand began filtering from the forest around them. Holy shit, I think we all might just die here…

  The spriggan twitched its head violently, spattering the ashy ground with its blood. “Oh...good, the sacrifices are here...someone forgot to bind them again….”

  A large man in a resplendent cape stepped forward wielding a sword that dripped small embers onto the ground below him. “Forsaken Paladin, today is the day you die!” He gestured widely at the near circle of men surrounding Vrax and the Spriggan. “No matter what abomination you have pulled from hell to aid you, this is your end; you shall pay for the lives you took!” Braum finished his monologue with a self-satisfied look on his face and raised his hand with a quick chopping motion.

  Vrax had underestimated the number of men in the woods; it was closer to twenty this time, and the big bastard in charge was over level one hundred, solidly starting his journey into the second tier. A mass of well-aimed arrows began falling from the sky towards him. Shit, there isn't anything around for my armor to use!

  Vrax didn’t get to react before the wooden arrows simply turned to ash in the air, harmlessly scattering the arrowheads across the ground. The spriggan hadn’t even moved; it looked towards Braum, head cocked curiously, before speaking in an ancient chanting rhythm that pulsed the air with every word: “Weak of flesh, brittle of bone, welcome to your new home. Do not scream…do not groan. Simply lay your head down upon the loam.” Everyone looked at the Spriggan uncomfortably for a moment, unsure what it would do.

  “Kill them…” Braum growled, raising his flaming sword forward.

  The Spriggan matched the gesture, slowly raising one clawed hand towards Braum. The forest shivered as more mana than Vrax knew was possible began suffusing the ground around them all. Then the world seemed to heave inward on itself. Vrax didn’t know what it had just done, but the world beyond the juncture was just gone, trailing off into sheer oblivion. Nothing but light-consuming void was visible past the bone-like trees. “Now, the children are hungry…” It said in a happy tone tinged with madness.