Chapter 2: Across the Plains

The day of Noah and Valia’s departure had arrived, but they were delayed due to the weather. A tumultuous summer storm, perhaps the last of the season, was bathing Sylphtoria with warm, heavy drops. Up in the palace, Noah and Elisandra sat in a window, she leaning against him with his arms around her. Elisandra once spoke of her love for summer storms, so they decided to enjoy it.

They gazed out across the forest canopy, swaying in the mighty gale, and listened to the thumping rain and the roaring thunder, with the occasional flash of lightning arcing in the distance. Valia was absent, giving them this moment to enjoy by themselves, Elisandra cherishing Noah’s warm embrace and Noah savoring her sweet scent.

“Did you know that while a baby develops in the womb, it can clearly hear its mother’s heart beating? That sound is ingrained in us before we even know what it is,” said Noah.

“Really?”

“It’s true. I remember you saying that the sound of rain made you feel like you were back in the womb, and you were right. Listen to those drops, the gentle, steady pattering. So simple, but so comforting. It’s more than just falling water, the sound itself is elemental, powerful. It’s the sound of life, of dry earth turning into lush soil from which greenery blooms. It cleanses, it nourishes, it energizes, it defines. In space, people don’t listen to music, they prefer to listen to recordings of rain, because that’s what makes them feel at home.”

“That’s beautiful,” Elisandra hummed. She then slid her hands down onto Noah’s, which were rested on her belly. “Rain, that is what our child will be named. It works for both a boy or a girl. Like you said, rain is what makes this world home.”

“I love it.”

Elisandra looked up at him. “And I love you,” she said before their lips met, and light filled the sky.

Once the storm ended, Noah and Valia set off from Sylphtoria, riding northeast towards Handent and Welindar. Their horses had been pampered by the elves, now fat and sleek, and the exercise was doing them good. Valia was more cheerful than usual, for while she and the queen had grown close, she once again had Noah all to herself.

Unfortunately, they were not alone. While the Anorvan Forest was free of knights and bounty hunters, there was no shortage of elves drawn by the smell of a human slithering through their domain. The two had several arrows, swords, and spears pointed at them throughout their journey, and it took a lot of talking to get the pointy-eared interlopers to let them pass. Noah’s mantle, marking him as an honored ally to the queen and a Sylphtorian lord, didn’t always convince the elves. He was accused of wearing a fake or being a thief more than once.

It took over a week to finally break free of the Anorvan Forest and arrive at the Petosic Steppes. These grasslands stretched across the north, broken up by thickets and hills like islands in an ocean of green. Noah and Valia could see the far corners of the horizon beneath the clear sky, no longer hidden by the ancient trees.

“Handent, home of the beastman tribes. It’s been an age and a half since I was here last. Behind us, the spirits of nature dance among the trees, but here, they float upon the wind like clouds,” said Valia.

“There, that tower in the distance. The knights are waiting for us,” Noah said, pointing ahead to an unnatural shape protruding from the horizon. “Hold on, there is something I want to try.”

Noah revealed a small mirror created using alchemy, and while looking at his reflection, he brushed his hand across his right eye, activating his cloning magic. His face immediately changed as if he was twice his original age. His clone magic had evolved thanks to Kisara Island, and he could now recreate his past lives. Of his countless reincarnations across the multiverse, there were several repeats, reliving the same body more than once with minimal difference between timelines. The illusory mask he now wore was the adult version of his current body, reached during previous lifetimes.

Noah examined his reflection for accuracy, scrutinizing the threads of mana forming a thin beard on his face. “What do you think?

“Why are you switching your appearance? Don’t tell me you’re paranoid about letting them see your real face.”

“It’s an experiment on human nature,” he said, now with a deeper voice. “From my experience, having a young body like this one has advantages and drawbacks. It makes it easier to garner sympathy, forgiveness, and mercy, but it means my warnings, threats, and advice aren’t taken seriously either. A mature appearance enhances my charisma, and makes me appear more believable.”

“You’re just going to be constantly hiding your real appearance around everyone?”

Noah put the mirror away and donned his wide-brimmed hat. Though his current aged appearance was just an illusion, his real face could still get sunburned out here in the plains.

“My appearance doesn’t personally matter. Bodies are merely vessels. This adult face you currently see is from another life I’ve lived, and is as real as the young face you’re used to. Besides, I’d say I look pretty handsome.”

“Granted, but how long can you keep your magic active like that?”

“Now that I can focus my illusions on individual body parts, the mana cost is very affordable. If it’s just my face, I may be able to do it continuously without needing rest.”

“Very well, go ahead. This should be interesting.”

“And if being older doesn’t work, I can always go in the opposite direction.” The illusion changed, and his face became that of an infant, stretched across his adult-sized head. He turned to Valia, flashing her a toothless smile and babbling like a baby would, causing her to burst into laughter.

“That is truly horrifying. Please, don’t ever do it again.”

Noah readjusted the illusion back to his middle-aged appearance. “Oh, I’m going to do it again. You won’t know when, and you won’t know where, but it will be perfect.”

They ushered their horses forward and rode across the grassy plains, with their approach to the tower revealing its true face. It was the remains of a dwarven fortress built centuries ago in a time of war with the elves. Time and battle had turned it into a skeleton of bricks, but enough of the tower remained upright to serve as a landmark, and the winds of the plains could not topple it.

The area around the tower was raised and rocky, hence its location, but a path led up to the fortress. As Noah and Valia approached, however, they came across something unpleasant. A slain beast was stuck on a pike as a warning to others of its kind, but it was no ordinary creature. It appeared to be some kind of fox, the size of a St. Bernard, and horribly mutated. Its claws and fangs were overgrown, and a third eye had grown out of the left socket. Despite being left out, not a single fly dared feed on the carcass.

“Halt! Identify yourselves!” a soldier yelled from a high crag.

“I am Noah, the Wandering Spirit!”

“Valia Zodiac, the Sword Goddess! We’re here answering Prince Lupin’s summons!”

The soldier paused. “Remain where you are!”

He then blew a horn and produced three deep calls. Noah and Valia looked at the tower, seeing some movement. The two of them were on guard, ready for any sign of attack. Though Noah had a probationary exoneration, it was hard to predict how these strangers would act without the prince himself around, not to mention that Valia was also a fugitive. Soon enough, a knight approached on horseback. From the quality of his armor and the emblem on his shoulder, he appeared to be silver-ranked and had a face that Noah recognized.

“Welcome, Sir Noah, Lady Valia. I am Sir Reynolds, envoy of His Highness, Prince Lupin. Along with delivering the prince’s message, my men and I are here to escort you to Welindar. Wait, I was told you would be younger.”

“I am indeed Noah. You’d be surprised how young I can pass for by just shaving, young enough to even get into the Knight Academy. Anyway, I am here to answer the prince’s summons. My apologies for making you wait. I had business in Sylphtoria that could not be left unfinished.”

“Well, the men will be happy that we can finally depart. Please, come with me to the base.”

They followed Reynolds to the fortress, now seeing its true dilapidation. The tower was still standing, but every building was in ruins, serving only to provide cover from the wind. Still, the troops were making do with what they had. The caved-in stables had been repaired to once more shelter the horses, the well looked to be functioning, and there was even a clothesline with shirts and garments hanging to dry. Most of the work had gone into repairing walls and shoring up defenses to keep monsters like the fox out.

“How many troops do you have with you?” Noah asked.

“I am the only knight, and there are eight soldiers under my command.”

“One knight and eight soldiers to deliver a message from Prince Lupin to the Sylphtorian queen? Are his forces really stretched so thin?” Valia asked.

“Indeed they are. The armies that conquered Welindar are now scattered to maintain peace and order, leaving us with fewer and fewer assets each day. Were it not for the unholy beasts prowling the wild, I’d be lucky to have even four men with me. The situation has surely grown even worse since we departed.”

“How many of those disfigured monsters have you encountered?”

“Too many. We put up that fox, hoping it would ward them off, but these things are worse than rabid. Every night, they come prowling around. They have no fear, they feel pain but shrug off their wounds, and they kill whatever crosses their path, often without bothering to eat. I left Welindar with ten men and lost two to those abominations.”

They entered the tower, where the soldiers were camping out anywhere that was dry and offered cover. These men ranged from their late teens to their late fifties, had no prospects beyond the military, couldn’t use magic, or were restricted to the most minor, elementary spells. At the moment, they were all alert and standing ready, reacting to the horn and the strangers’ arrival like dogs hearing the slam of a car door. It was clear that, next to the monsters, boredom was their greatest enemy. They had been entertaining themselves with games of dice and cards, maintaining their equipment, and Noah even spotted an unfinished wooden carving someone had whittled.

“Men, Sir Noah and Lady Valia have arrived. Gather your things; we’re moving out,” Reynolds ordered.

The soldiers’ reaction to the order was mixed. Some were lamenting the loss of what was the closest they’d get to a vacation, others were glad to see an end to their boredom, and the rest were fearful of going back out into the plains, forsaking the safety of the tower.

As the men packed up their things and prepared to depart, Reynolds turned to Noah. “I was told that you are an important key to ending this madness. Is it true?”

“I will do whatever I can to help, but I won’t know how until I get to Welindar.”

Noah, Valia, and their escorts set off from the wrecked fortress, riding deeper into the plains. Their group was large enough to ward off any predators, both canine and feline, but Noah could often see them on the crests of hills, watching their group pass by. That night, they set up camp in a small ravine, lowering them out of the prairie winds and concealing their campfire. Summer was ending, and though the days were still hot, the nights were honing their chill.

Dinner was some wild rabbits, and everyone gathered around the fire to eat. As the soldiers talked and laughed amongst each other, they were clearly on edge. Even by elf standards, Valia was exceptionally beautiful, and her presence made the men antsy. Noah watched with amusement as instinct overtook them, and they began vying for her attention like animals performing mating dances. They verbally butted heads, trying to take over the conversation no matter the subject, and weren’t subtle when they found opportunities to brag. The youngest soldier sat up straight and deepened his voice, while the oldest soldier tried to appear worldly and intelligent.

Eventually, though, Noah’s presence was acknowledged. “Sir Noah, what’s your story?” one soldier asked. “We’ve been hearing your name all the way out here in Handent.”

“Well, first of all, the rumors are true. I’ll even take credit for things that are wrong. Long story short, I got into a feud with Prince Seraph and Prince Galvin, and it got ugly. I was forced to flee Uther, but Prince Lupin, who I have assisted in the past, is offering me a pardon in exchange for my services in this fight.”

“You’re supposed to be some kind of expert on these monsters, right?” another soldier asked.

“I have experience in these fields.”

“Like how?”

Noah pulled out a piece of string and began looping it around his fingers. “I spent my early years in an orphanage, having been dropped off on the front step as a baby. It was not, shall we say, a loving establishment. When I was a child, I and several others were moved to a different facility, or rather, we had been sold off. The place we went to was made of sterile white halls and rooms, matching our clothes. The food and beds were better, but this place was like a prison, and we children were the prisoners.”

He continued fiddling with the string, playing Cat’s Cradle.

“We were told it was a special school, and would test our cognitive and physical abilities daily, but I understood what they were doing from the very start. We had been gathered to be used as subjects for experimentation. They would expose us to different drugs, stimuli, and challenges to see how we reacted, but were careful with the administration, doing their best to keep the children from snapping under the pressure. They would turn tests into games, and reward us with toys and treats.”

Around and around the string went, forming complex shapes and figures.

“The worst, most painful tests, were disguised as punishments for failure and misbehavior. I remember one such room, where I was strapped to a cold steel table with my head locked into position, and my eyelids and mouth forced open, letting them drill my teeth, send tubes up into my sinuses, and stick needles into my tear ducts to inject me with various serums. There were always needles stabbing me everywhere, shooting me full of who-knows-what, or used to administer electric shocks. Oh, that’s right, you don’t know ... have any of you been exposed to thunder magic? Imagine that power running through your body continuously.

Often, a kid would disappear, and we were told they had been adopted or moved to a different school, but clearly it just meant they had died from the experiments.”

He pulled his hands apart, tightening the string around his fingers, and stared into the campfire through the net, like the wire mesh windows throughout the facility. All the soldiers stared at him with pale faces, having lost all sense of levity. Valia placed her hand on Noah’s knee, her eyes full of sorrow, and then she pulled it away as a cruel smirk crossed Noah’s face.

“I could have escaped if I wanted to, but that would have been boring. I decided to stay and perform experiments of my own. The whole facility and the people running it were my toy box. I took my time to study their security and learn how to move around undetected. I observed the orderlies and administrators, gathering intel and exploiting their weaknesses, and whenever the time felt right, I’d give them a little poke and watch them spin their wheels, sometimes by dosing them with the drugs they were giving the kids and see what would happen.

I remember there was this one neurotic woman, a total control freak. I would sneak into her office at night, move things around, destroy her data, and sometimes leave an unpleasant smell lingering. I did it over a long period, remaining subtle. If I did too much, she’d realize someone was jerking her around. I had to use the lightest touch, slowly making her doubt herself and soon questioning her own sanity. I kept pushing her closer to the edge, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of dementia. Eventually, her fingers were wrapped in bandages because she kept chewing her nails, and there were bald spots from her ripping out her hair during panic attacks. I remember the sound of her scream when she finally snapped. Ah, so satisfying.

There was an administrator who performed many of the tests, and I often sabotaged his equipment. Every time he tried to do something, a tool or machine would break down, turning each little step into a long ordeal, and the frustration would build. With everything going wrong, he started yelling at his coworkers, accusing others of being careless with his cherished tech. Eventually, he started a fistfight with an orderly, got his face smashed into a window, and lost both of his eyes.

Oh, yeah, speaking of orderlies, there was one who was having marital problems. These people weren’t supposed to have personal conversations with the test subjects, but he let it slip once, and while playing the role of the innocent, curious child, I would coax him to go on. Over time, he’d tell me about his wife and home life, and I’d start sowing doubts and venomous thoughts, making him think they were his own. Then, he just disappeared and never came back to work. From what I gathered, he had killed his wife and then himself.

Eventually, the order came down that the facility was to be purged, and all of the test subjects killed. Armed men came in and started slaughtering the kids and the lower staff. Fortunately, I got my hands on a knife, and after slitting a few throats, I worked my way up to the head manager’s office.

It took some cutting to get him to talk, but he spilled everything. We were one part of an experimental program in which the test data was used to create super soldiers. I was familiar with such methods, and I expect the monsters roaming these lands to be made through similar techniques. I killed him, escaped, and leaked all the data I could get my hands on to the public.

Anyway, that’s just a tiny part of my accumulated knowledge in this field. My expertise runs quite a bit deeper. So, any questions?” There were none. Everyone was staring at him with gaunt expressions. The first half of his story was dark enough, and several men had been ready to offer words of sympathy for his hardship, but when they saw that cruel smirk and sadistic gleam in Noah’s eyes, all their instincts told them that he was someone to be feared.

“I suppose, then, I’ll ask some of my own. Sir Reynolds, if I remember correctly, you were at the basilisk gala. I believe Prince Lupin said that you were the first to attack it while everyone was paralyzed with fear. Is that correct?”

“It is,” the knight said hesitantly, as though waiting for Noah to place a curse upon him.

“And by that silver emblem on your chest plate, it appears you received a promotion. Was that for the basilisk, or ten years of service?”

“The basilisk.”

“If Prince Lupin sent you to find me, then that means he must have a great deal of trust in you.”

“I’m his left-hand man.”

“Is his right-hand man a gold-rank knight?”

“No, he isn’t, sorry to disappoint. Prince Lupin originally had two gold knights with him when he conquered Welindar, but both have already been killed. We’ve been taking heavy losses since those abominations appeared.”

“Tell me everything that has been going on. Tell me about the fiends.”

Reynolds swallowed the lump in his throat. “The earliest ones appeared in the spring before we had taken Welindar. They were wild animals with distorted bodies and monstrous appearances, attacking everything in sight. We chalked it up to a disease, some kind of rabies. After the city was won and Prince Lupin took control, there were bigger things to worry about.

Welindar had withstood Uther’s assault for years, and many residents weren’t ready to give up the fight simply because a new flag was over their heads. From the ashes of Welindar’s military, a rebellion grew, sabotaging us wherever and whenever they could. Throughout the summer and fall, they attacked supply lines, interrupted communications with Colbrand, kidnapped soldiers, incited riots in the streets, and did whatever they could to weaken our hold on the city.

We managed to regain control over the winter. Then, when spring arrived, something had changed. Huge, hulking abominations began appearing in the city and across the countryside. These disgusting, mindless fiends brought untold slaughter to both soldier and beastman alike. Our weapons and spells could break bone and tear flesh just as their claws and fangs could do to us, but we could not counter their deranged fury and unstoppable drive. How do you fight a monster that will trample over its own entrails to rip out your throat? It didn’t take long to realize many of these monsters had originally been beastmen.

Despite their power, it seemed like they died on their own accord more often than not. Most of the more giant fiends we encountered in the wild were already dead, showing no wounds, and their bodies were so disfigured that you’d wonder how they ever lived for even a day. That was when we discovered the source of this evil. Each of these monsters had parasites attached to their bodies, these huge leeches that seemed to transform their hosts into bloodthirsty demons. The knights and soldiers believed it was some kind of pestilence, like locusts, but Prince Lupin had another idea. He claimed that these creatures were being made with purpose like a blacksmith makes a sword or an alchemist makes a potion.

The insurgents were quick to weaponize it, and as time went on, both the parasites and their hosts underwent further changes, becoming more stable and robust. Now, they can transform back and forth at will without losing their minds. Since then, they’ve wreaked havoc on our forces, slaughtering soldiers in broad daylight. At least they have enough sanity not to go killing innocents. We’ve been trying to track down the source of these parasites, but even if we manage to take a host alive, getting answers out of them isn’t easy.

We discovered that they were weak against holy magic, but as soon as it seemed like we were turning the tide, they learned to immediately target all of our paladins. Now, we have just a handful of healers left. Prince Lupin has been trying to get ahold of his brother and Sir Tarnas, but they can’t be found. All of our weapons are imbued with holy enchantments, inflicting some added damage, but not nearly enough. Elemental weapons only work correctly in the hands of a compatible magic user.

Anyway, not too long ago, we raided a building and found some kind of workshop hidden in the cellar, where parasites were being cultivated. It was just one piece of a larger network, but the tools, notes, and setup were like nothing we had ever seen before. That’s when Prince Lupin sent me to find you.”

“Interesting. I have a feeling the setup you found isn’t wholly different from scenes in my past. Tell me something, were their parasites growing in cylindrical tanks full of fluid?”

The question surprised Reynolds. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Because there’s ALWAYS something growing in a cylindrical tank. It’s what separates the scientists from the mad scientists. I think I can help you guys out. In his letter, Prince Lupin said that he believes these monsters are a sign that the Profane have returned. Do you share that belief?”

“I’m not sure. I just hope he’s wrong.”

“What are the Profane?” one soldier asked. “I’ve heard them mentioned a few times in my life, but no one ever goes into detail.”

“I’ve been researching them lately, and the stories paint a vivid picture. Long ago, a demon named Zyrga tried to drown the world in blood and darkness, but was vanquished by the Enochians. The records don’t say whether destroying the body would have some kind of grave consequence or if it was simply impossible, but the Enochians took the dead demon and sealed it, hoping it would never be found. Eventually, though, everything gets found.

Though the demon was slain, its power was reborn in new vessels. They were the Profane, a cult born in reverence to a fallen god. They inherited its power and will to devour and corrupt all life. They multiplied, not through procreation, but by infecting others with their venom, sharing their unholy power. In his letter, Prince Lupin referred to the monsters we’re fighting as ‘fiends,’ a subspecies of the Profane. They are those who manifest their corruption with grotesque transformations.

Led by Somerset, the Mad Elf King, the armies of the Profane spread, feasting upon the flesh and blood of the innocent, defiling every temple and grave, and poisoning the soil beneath their feet. The people that weren’t eaten were transformed, ensuring a steady source of new members. The power they wielded vanquished armies, razed nations, and turned heroes into bloody splatters. Just as it took the combined strength of the Enochians to slay Zyrga, so too did the races of the world unite to wipe out this evil.

Ever since the end of the war, people in all corners of the world continue to tell stories of night raids, investigating bumps in the night and finding a loved one being preyed upon in bed by a Profane intruder. Upon discovery, these predators flee into the dark, leaving behind a body drained of blood or missing chunks of flesh. For centuries, that’s all they were: stories, tall tales passed around by anxious folk, afraid of their own shadows.

However, it seems the Profane are resilient and making their grand return to power. At the basilisk gala, I warned the prince that the beast you fought was the result of someone’s handiwork, and something worse was on the horizon. It seems that I was right. Hopefully, they’ll provide a good show.”

They resumed their travel the next day, heading exponentially closer to a horizon forever beyond their reach. The soldiers were quiet, left spooked by Noah’s story. He was just glad Valia wasn’t looking at him the way they were. She strived to support him, to try and soothe his scars, and to not criticize the sins of his past.

It was near midday when she finally raised her hand. “Whoa! Stop!” The group halted, everyone looking at her as she put her hands to her ears, trying to catch the faint sound.

“What is it?” Noah asked.

“Battle. I hear several men, and ... roars, snarls. I think they’re fighting the fiends. Noah,” she said as she turned to him.

He sighed. “Ugh, you want to save them, don’t you?”

“Time to wake up your sleeping conscience.”

“My men and I have orders to get you two to Welindar. I’m not jeopardizing their lives or the mission!” Reynolds shouted.

“Every monster we kill now is one we won’t have to kill later, if it doesn’t kill us, and I’m not one for procrastination. As a gold-rank knight, I won’t order you to assist. You can either follow me or wait here.”

Valia snapped her reins and sent her horse galloping towards the source of the noise. Noah shrugged and went after her, leaving the knight and soldiers behind. As Valia raced ahead, the sounds of battle became ever clearer. Dissatisfied with her horse, she leaped off the saddle and ran. “Zodiac: Udan!” A silver magic circle appeared beneath her, and mana surged through her body. She raced across the fields, running so fast she was a blur.

She arrived at the scene where several warriors were fighting for their lives. They were members of the horse tribe, centaurs numbering less than a dozen, and had been cornered in a ravine. Their enemies were several mutated beastmen, varying in the animals they embodied, but all sharing the hulking forms granted to them by the parasites clinging to their bodies. Their bloated muscles, though deformed and asymmetrical, gave them incredible power. Along with claws, horns, and fangs, they were armed with weapons and chains and wore clothing.

The centaurs ran around with what space they had, shooting arrows from all angles to bring down their enemies. The arrows struck with pinpoint aim, but though they buried themselves deep in flesh and muscle, the behemoths seemed more annoyed than incapacitated. One fiend, having the head of a coyote with long jaws like an alligator, charged towards a centaur, moving with terrifying speed. He tackled the archer, knocking him through the air and crashing into a cliff face.

Another centaur attacked, slashing the fiend across the chest with his sword. The centaurs carried not just bows but scimitars with handles as long as the blades, allowing them to fight up close with sword techniques and at medium range with spear tactics. The sharpness of the blade was unquestionable, carving deep into the tissue, but though blood poured from the wound, it was soon replaced with noxious pus as the flesh knitted itself back together.

“Annoying fly!” the fiend growled before backhanding the man across the face, nearly snapping his neck from the force of impact and knocking him out cold.

The fiend then put a shackle around his victim’s neck, with his cohorts doing the same, beating the centaurs until they couldn’t fight back, then chaining them up. They dragged their half-dead captives with them while they fought, unhindered by the weight. As he turned around, three centaurs attacked at once and stabbed him through the chest with their blades.