Chapter 88
Classic Wood
Ken leaned against the granite, shadow pelt gi cold and slick under his palms, like it was still wet from the kill.
How am I a fur man now?
Across the cave, Garuke rolled one white bone club between his charcoal colored fingers.
The matching club drummed a rhythmic beat upon the stone floor.
Motionless, except for his flowing hands, listening to a tune no one else could hear.
An awkward thump broke the percussive chain as Ken struck his chest.
“New weapon. Hunt?”
Garuke’s head snapped up, teeth flashing.
All business with his small sharp tusks.
Not a word, just unspoken agreement.
The orc flowed upright, movement smooth and efficient.
Ken threw up his hood for dramatic effect, and flew down the ridge, boots kicking up stone, shadowy gi hugging him like a glove.
Garuke followed, a grey ghost floating down the rock, stark white clubs swaying on his hips.
Just two dudes looking for blood.
Wait, where the hell am I going?
Shit! Play it off, just keep running, act like you have a plan…
Think… where to go, where to go…
Oh yeah! My bait ball!
With a flare of power, he cut to the west, picking up speed.
The orc turned with him, not missing a stride, springing gracefully from rock to rock.
Effortlessly keeping pace.
Show off.
Ken accelerated, the ground blurring under his feet, hair blasting back from the wind.
Midnight fur ruffled as if from a soft breeze.
He could hear the footsteps of the orc speeding up… and falling behind.
Ha! I win!
His regeneration barely kept up, Core sputtering on fumes as he led the way.
Slowly, he approached the cave, breath rattling his rib cage.
Garuke eventually caught up with a long loping run.
Breathing calm and even.
…Show off.
Approaching the mouth of the shallow, dark cave, Momentum Tuning flared.
Nothing…
I guess that doesn't mean a lot.
Spinning up his meager chi supply he stepped inside, heart thumping, tensing for the inevitable ambush.
Nothing happened.
Huh… This place always makes me feel weird for some reason.
A heavy scent hung in the cave, metallic, mineral.
The node hummed softly in the dim light.
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Nothing has come through to claim it… bout time these monsters better respect my authority.
The heartbeat pulsing in the cave hummed through his bones.
Comforting, familiar…
And completely worthless to me.
The concepts gleaned from the bear’s intuition far outstripped the remaining sliver that remained.
Not only that, but there was a… small twinge of discomfort.
Subtle undertones played through the heartbeat of the mountain, resonating within Ken’s body.
Small cries of discomfort.
A subtle altering of chi through a pathway.
A small stutter in the flow of his Core.
The flash of power from countless different entities flooding his body played behind his eyes.
I think I’m getting tainted or something…
His depleted reserves went to work, flowing, and hunting.
Any resistance, any deviation, anything not one with Momentum has to go.
A slight tightening of his eyes, the only evidence of the internal battle, Ken nodded to the orc.
Garuke approached the node, squinting, eyes reading who knows what.
Kneeling, he pressed a palm to the source, and lurched.
Eyes snapped closed as his jaw clenched.
Tendons and muscle twisted, his gray coloration deepening.
The dark skin of his hands writhed like smoke.
Small stones rattled from the deep rumble emitting from his Core.
Garuke stood up, shoulders rolling and cracking.
“Durna. Git nakut vrak… rue mrak losh.”
Ken listened, thinking.
Did he just complain about it tasting bad?
He gave up, shrugging.
“This was anti-climatic… Now what?”
Silence answered, Garuke frowning slightly as his body rumbled.
Inspiration grew as Ken’s inner war encountered a twisting, regrowing, thread of corruption.
That signature after the Ent fight… I’m pretty sure there was another one.
Perfect.
Smacking the distracted drummer on the arm, Ken threw an excited smile.
“Follow.”
They dropped into the ancient forest.
The air was thick, leaves barely moving in the breeze.
Just vibrant foliage… and twittering birdsong.
Ken stopped on a dime, shuddering, tanned skin growing pale.
They then took a round-a-bout route around the exceptionally “tweety” area of the forest.
As I walk through the Valley in the shadow of death, I fear no evil…
But fuck those asshole birds.
They bypassed certain death, unbeknownst to Garuke, and headed deeper among the ancient trees.
The shadows grew under the towering canopy.
Only the occasional creak of growing giants swaying in the unfelt breeze.
Ken pushed Momentum Tuning out.
No heartbeat, no shifting.
Nothing.
Just trees staring at me.
Garuke walked silently over the mossy ground, eyes wide as he took in the giant forest.
Ken sat on a log, legs spread.
How do you get a plant’s attention…?
Tree huggers love a concert, right?
Popping up, he sprung from tree to tree, knuckles rapping off of bark.
Searching for the perfect instrument.
Dink. Doink. Dunk. Thunk.
DUM.
Bingo
The pugilist got punchy.
One-two, one-two, one-two.
Living wood got a heartbeat of its own, as its branches started swaying under the barrage.
Garuke's ears twitched.
He stepped up, bone clubs raised, smiling.
It started softly.
Precise.
Pulling the rhythm out of the wood.
Duda-duda-dum-dum, duda-duda-dum-dum, duda-duda-dum-dum.
Then it sped up-double-time, triple, bone on wood rumbling like a xylophone.
Ken barked, heart soaring as blood rushed through his veins.
Damn, I miss music.
“BREAK IT!”
Garuke smiled, the first true joy Ken had seen on his face, his dark hands blurring.
The percussive masterpiece rolled through the valley, up through boots, up through roots.
Then the ground answered.
Thud-THUD-THUD.
Huge, closing fast.
And angry.
Ken and the Drummer both smiled.
Everyone' s a critic.
