Chapter 11: Wildheart

‘Ferocious’ was the only word that could describe them. Each had a body fifty feet long from head to tail, with a wingspan even greater. Their wings doubled as prehensile arms that the creatures could use to move on all fours, with each digit equipped with talons that gouged out the rock beneath them.

Their scaly bodies were packed with muscle, and their heads, reptilian, were lined with horns and spikes. They stared with forward-pointing eyes that would never lose track of their prey. They were wyverns, the champions of the sky, and now a vicious pack of them surrounded Noah’s group.

They had left camp early in the morning, wanting to reach the mountain summit before the heat reached its peak, and now, in the labyrinth of houses and temples carved into the cliffs, their new enemy surrounded them, roaring in fury. Wyverns were believed to be a sub-race of the mighty dragons, like elves to Enochians, and though the chasm between them was vast, these beasts ranked high on the food chain.

“I think it’s safe to say these creatures have some nests up here,” Valia said.

“Even if we try to run away, they’ll chase us all the way to the sea,” Aithorn added.

“Aithorn, time to whip out that Dragon Impaler spell. Let’s hope the name isn’t simply a boast,” said Noah.

He began spinning his spear, with the three blades wrapped in an aura of lightning. “Don’t worry, it isn’t.”

He then charged toward the nearest wyvern, aiming for its face. It ducked its head to the side and swung at him with its tail, but he similarly dodged. Aithorn pressed the attack, trying to pierce the wyvern with his spear, but the beast had sharp reflexes and great speed, allowing it duck and weave to avoid the enchanted blade. It even defended itself by intercepting the shaft and avoiding the blade all together. Aithorn was no pushover, and for him to be challenged like this was a bad omen. The other elves launched arrows, trying to keep the rest of the wyverns at bay, but they simply bounced off their armored hides, irritating them.

In the center of the group, Valia activated her magic, boosting her strength, endurance, and cutting power, and then jumped into battle. Like with Aithorn, the wyverns could sense the danger her magic posed, and were cautious. They dodged her swings to the best of their ability, but every time she managed to land a cut, the wound went deep. When injured, their counterattacks were ferocious. Valia’s enchanted body and armor were put to the test against monstrous teeth and claws, and it took all of her enhanced strength to block the tail strikes, hitting like a tree-sized baseball bat.

“If we can just incapacitate them, they won’t follow us! Aim for their wings!” she shouted.

The elves changed their tactics, wounding and enraging the wyverns. Valia sliced through the membranes of one opponent, drawing a howl of agony and spray of blood, but before it could counter, she had already attacked the beast closest to it, shredding its wings with two expert slashes. The third met the same fate, grounded from her attacks, but her luck ended with the fourth.

With lightning-fast reflexes, it intercepted her attack and grabbed her sword arm between its jaws. She released her sword and grabbed it with her other hand, and as soon as she stretched back to slash, a second wyvern grabbed her other arm, making her cry out in pain. They each bit down full-force and pulled in opposite directions like dogs fighting over a toy, leaving her unable to retaliate. Even with her super strength, she could not overpower two adult wyverns, and their fangs had wounded her steel skin. It was taking all her magic just to keep from being ripped in half.

Noah activated both of his spells, and with his clone acting as a decoy, he attacked one of the wyverns holding Valia. He brought down his sword upon its neck with all the strength he could muster, using the form and skill Valia had taught him. The strike landed perfectly, but though he managed to cut through its hide, it was merely a flesh wound, barely even damaging the muscle. Wyvern hide was notoriously tough. If anything, the fact that Noah inflicted even that much damage without warrior or monk magic was an accomplishment in its own right.

Though the wyvern couldn’t sense who attacked it, it still reacted on instinct and swung its wing, knocking Noah away. He hit the ground rolling and got back to his feet, looking around while rejoining his clone. The rest of the elves were forced to break formation to avoid the wyverns’ attacks. They darted around with their swords, trying to inflict any damage they could.

The wyverns quickly realized their wings were being targeted and used their scales to defend themselves. Two elves had already been slain, one having his head bitten off and the other dismembered in the same way as Valia was close to being. Nearby, Aithorn was struggling to stand after a wyvern struck him with its tail. From how he was leaning, a few of his ribs appeared broken.

‘Wait, ribs!’ Noah realized. “Everyone, aim for their ribs! Don’t try to cut or stab them, just hit them with pure force! Sword pommels! Kicks! Use a rock if you have to!”

He attacked one of the wyverns holding Valia, striking it in the side of the ribcage with a solid kick and feeling bone crack from the blow. To the wyvern, this was a pain it had never experienced before, and it inadvertently released Valia’s arm. Noah similarly dispatched the second wyvern, prompting it to let go of Valia. It was too distracted by the multiple broken ribs piercing its lungs.

Seeing how the two beasts reacted, everyone understood what Noah meant and once more went on the attack. No small amount of blood was lost getting close, but the elves bypassed the wyverns’ defenses and hammered away at their ribs with all of their strength, first breaking bones and then crushing organs. Aithorn, swallowing his pain, took advantage of the wounded beasts and ended their lives with his spear. Though sword slashes had failed against them, his lightning-wrapped stabs drilled through scale and muscle easily.

While the tide of battle was changing, the wyverns refused to give up. They clustered together, shoring up their defenses, making them easy targets for Noah’s flashbangs. Stunned by the light and sound, they were defenseless, and Valia swooped in and dispatched them with a combination of punches, kicks, and blows with the handle of her sword. Aithorn finished them off, and the fight was won. The elves, tired and wounded, dropped down to their knees while the two healers went to work.

“How did you know to do that? To go for their ribs? Everyone knows you go for the wings instead,” asked Valia.

“Bird bones are full of open spaces to cut down weight, making it easier for them to fly, but it leaves them more brittle. I assumed wyverns would have the same weakness, especially with how heavy their muscles and hide must be. Anyway, let’s take a break. You should all take care of your wounds, and I can’t just ignore this bounty of materials.” Noah looked around at the corpses while rubbing his hands together and smiling. “There is a lot of good stuff here.”

The elves took their time to recover and bury their fallen comrades while Noah busied himself with dismantling the kills. Most parts of the wyvern were very useful for runecrafting and potion making, and Noah took everything he could carry within his ring. He used alchemy to remove all the moisture, lightening the weight, and convinced Valia and Aithorn to store some materials in their rings. Aithorn had realized a while ago that Noah possessed a silver-ranked knight’s ring and didn’t bother saying anything.

The group then resumed climbing the mountain, reaching the summit by noon. From up here, they had a view of the entire island. It was an ocean of greenery punctuated by towering ruins, with the faint blue of the sea visible on the edges of the horizon.

“Hey, look down there,” said Noah, surveying the jungle with his spyglass. There was a winding scar of destruction carved across the landscape.

“All those burned trees, it must be Gradius,” Valia replied. “It looks like he’s been hacking and slashing his way through the wilderness. Imagine the poor creatures that crossed his path.”

“I don’t see any fires currently burning though. If we’re lucky, he sank into some mud and drowned.”

“I once watched that man evaporate an entire lake after falling off a boat. Nothing short of the ocean can drown him. Anyway, let’s check for Valon.”

Valia took out the needle Noah made and began channeling her mana into it. She had tried using it several times since arriving on the island with no luck, but that changed. Valia laid it on her palm, and as she channeled her mana into it, the end with Valon’s hair began to rise, suspended in the air as though repelled from her. Though it wobbled unsteadily, it remained pointed at the island, even when she turned it towards the sea.

“He’s here,” Valia gasped. “He’s really here!”

“What? He’s here?” the other elves asked, circling around. Valia tested the needle over and over from all different angles, and though it failed to give a solid direction, it confirmed that Valon was somewhere on the island. “I can’t believe it, we’re so close!” she said, shedding tears of joy.

Noah was excited as well. “Let’s try it at the palace next.”

Focused on their next destination, Noah and elves descended back down into the jungle. As they moved through the greenery, numerous roars reached them. Since arriving, such occurrences were almost constant, but they didn’t recognize the source. There was movement all around them, great hulking shapes darting back and forth under the cover of the underbrush. One of their opponents finally revealed itself, pouncing on the group with a bloodthirsty howl.

It was a hobgoblin, six feet in height, and wielding a tree branch as a club. It was aiming for Valia, and though she managed to draw her sword and block its swing, she didn’t have enough time to activate her magic, and its strength and momentum knocked her back. One of the elves stabbed it in the back with his sword, and it countered by striking him across the face, crushing his skull and snapping his neck in the process. A swing of Aithorn’s spear managed to remove its head, but it wasn’t their only enemy.

More hobgoblins were coming out of the woodwork, armed with spears and clubs like the first, but, as Noah studied them, he realized these were different from the hobgoblin he faced in Clive. Though these creatures had the signature green skin, pointed nose and ears, and sharp tusks of the goblin species, their bodies were more like apes.

Their weapons were also more primitive, showing no signs of whittling or sharpening, and they did not wear pelts or other garb. On the evolutionary timeline, they were halfway between gorilla and Neanderthal. Their species had just learned how to walk upright and was starting to understand tools, and in time, their descendants would discover fire.

The elves countered with their bows, launching barrages of arrows that mowed the bravest goblins down and drove the rest back into hiding, but they weren’t giving up.

“Let’s move!” Noah ordered.

They ran off down the mountain, but the goblins wouldn’t let them go so easily. They seemed able to move on two feet and all fours with equal dexterity, pursuing the group on the ground and through the trees. Their physical strength was well beyond human, allowing them to hurl great and swing tree trunks with little difficulty. They had no sense of fighting technique, but they understood the advantage weapons gave them, and could defend against the elven swords for at least a few moments.

Ambushes came from all sides, as lone attackers, aware that they couldn’t handle Noah’s group by themselves, tried to slow them down so that the rest of the goblins could catch up. The group found a path through the jungle, free of trees, however, every step made Noah uneasy. The ground didn’t feel right. It was soft and springy, as if...

“It’s hollow!” he cursed.

As soon as the words were spoken, the ground came apart from under their feet. It was a blanket of interwoven roots covered with a thin layer of dirt, and the group plummeted into the darkness below. They had entered a deep crevasse, carved when the earthquake struck the island, and were freefalling to their death. The elves cast druid magic, taking control of vines and roots to reach down and grab them, but Noah and Valia were too far down to be saved.

“Zodiac: Baol! Udan! Rakshon!” Valia cast.

Powered by magic, Valia kicked off the ravine’s wall and rocketed herself toward Noah. She grabbed him with one hand and then jammed her sword into the opposing cliff face, slowing their descent as the enchanted steel carved through rock and clay. They touched down on the ground and each breathed a sigh of relief.

“Damn, you’re a real life-saver,” said Noah.

“It’s what I do,” she said proudly.

“Are you two all right?” Aithorn asked as the elves lowered themselves down.

“We’ll live,” Noah replied as he produced a sphere of light. Up above, he could hear the howling of the goblins, pacing around the opening to the crevasse. “This doesn’t seem to be a trap, but it doesn’t look like they’re going to let us climb out of here.”

“From the echo, this ravine seems to go for quite a distance,” said Valia. “With any luck, we’ll find a path to the castle.”

They set off through the crevasse using torches and magic to light their path. More than simply an opening in the earth, it was a vast system of winding passages, branching off from the original fractures into ancient cave systems. In these dark passages, chitinous creatures thrived.

Worms, insects, and predatory crustaceans of monstrous size crawled through tunnels made by burrowing animals, searching for food. Fortunately, they feared the light and were driven away without violence. The rain carried spores and nutrients down from the jungle, producing a rich ecosystem. Fungus caked the stone walls, and colossal mushrooms bloomed from gathered water.

“Beautiful,” Noah murmured as he walked. He could still appreciate the sights even down in the dark, surrounded by monsters and danger. “I’ve met countless naturalists, biologists, botanists, and zoologists that would fall to their knees in awe if they could see this island.”

“You have the heart of an elf,” said one of the healers. It was the first time she had spoken to him.

As they continued to travel, the scenery changed. More sunlight was poking through the cover overhead, and the passages were widening. The ground was littered with animal skeletons and packed down from heavy footfalls. They eventually discovered a vast alcove, where something had made a nest for itself using a mix of gathered brush and animal remains. A cluster of eggs sat in the center, each one the size of a wine barrel.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, fast,” said Noah as he examined a shed scale.

They took off in a hurry, but they weren’t quick enough, and a shriek echoed through the passages. It was a shrill, piercing screech, like saw blades grinding against each other, and it made everyone cover their ears and fall to their knees, even Noah. He had heard sounds like this before in past lifetimes, harnessed as a weapon to subdue riots and incapacitate enemy units. It wasn’t just the volume that caused pain; it was the oscillating sharpness, easily capable of stunning most prey. Evolution had smiled upon this new enemy.

Noah pulled out his noise canceller and activated it, but it only dulled the sound enough so the keen-eared elves didn’t vomit in agony. Then they saw it, charging their way from the passage they had already traveled. It had six powerful legs, a colossal muscular body covered in scales, and a head filled with sword-like teeth dripping with venom. It was the island’s apex predator, a beast that all others feared, a basilisk.

“Run!” Noah shouted.

They took off, he and the elves sprinting as fast as they could with the enraged basilisk in pursuit. Having come so close to its nest, simply driving them away wasn’t good enough. It wouldn’t stop until it had ended all their lives.

It continued to shriek, attacking their eardrums to try and slow them down. The elves had to run with their hands over their ears, otherwise the sound would bring them down. Noah’s noise-canceller helped alleviate some the of the effects, but wasn’t meant to be used when moving. At the moment, it was providing as much protection as a splash of water before charging into a burning building, but without it, they wouldn’t even be able to stand.

As it ran, the basilisk swung its head, hurling venom in all directions that melted whatever it touched. A glob of the black sludge hit one of the healers, bringing her to her knees, screaming in agony. Aithorn picked her up and ran with her on his shoulder, but there was no point. The venom had touched her skin, and that was enough to enter her body and begin destroying everything. With each passing second, her flesh was disintegrating, and the muscle underneath was turning black and melting away. She was dead in less than a minute, with Aithorn now carrying a skeleton oozing liquified tissue.

There was no time to use druidism to get themselves out of the ravine, and though they tried to summon wooden barricades to slow the basilisk down, it smashed through every obstacle with terrifying strength, and its venom killed whatever it touched. Any arrows they launched bounced off its hide without leaving a scratch. Even Aithorn’s lightning-enhanced arrows could do nothing to wound it. In all likelihood, nothing short of an atomic bomb would kill it, and Noah suspected it could survive even that.

Their best hope was to find a passage to duck into, one too small for the beast to follow, or at least get back up to the surface. However, this ravine was a straight shot and far too deep for them to climb out of.

“Valia, any chance you can kill this thing?” Noah asked.

“Basilisk venom can melt through steel! Even if I do somehow manage to wound it, it’ll kill me in a second! Best case scenario, we all die and I happen to go first!”

“If we can get to the surface, I might be able to drive it away!” Aithorn shouted. “We just need to...” He trailed off, and everyone realized why. Up ahead was a dead end, with cliff sides too steep to climb, even for the elves. They were cornered, and the basilisk was closing in.

“Anyone have a plan?!” one of the elves yelled.

“I might have one,” Noah said, though he was rather reluctant. He approached the charging basilisk with his grimoire in one hand and a wand in the other. He activated his cloning magic, channeled his mana to a specific page, and then pointed his wand at the basilisk. “What you see next, you all take to your graves!”

A storm of color surged from the end of the wand, changing shape as it expanded. Bones wrapped in flesh, a massive body covered in scales, and a mouth filled with teeth and venom all took shape before Noah as if growing in a womb. Valia and the rest of the elves watched in shock, as before them, what was originally one basilisk became two. It was a clone of the basilisk Prince Lupin’s army had killed, conjured using a stolen scale.

The problem was that the mana required was far more than Noah could produce. In preparation for this journey, he had made this wand in Sylphtoria, and it was enchanted to boost his magical abilities and allow him to clone larger animals, but nothing on this scale. Still, he forced the spell to work, and to accomplish such a task, a price had to be paid. He was paying in blood, pouring from his nose, eyes, and mouth, as his skin disintegrated.

The two stared at each other, the real basilisk confused about what was happening. It had just been chasing prey but now faced one of its own kind, seemingly materializing out of thin air. It looked and smelled completely real, but something was horribly wrong. Basilisks were a highly aggressive species, and the only reason it wasn’t mauling the newcomer was its condition. Its body was deformed, its eyes were on the verge of bursting out of their sockets, and when it tried to roar, what came out was a sickly groan of anguish.

This basilisk resulted from twisted magic and abominable science. In a state of nature, it never would have even broken free of its shell, let alone reached adulthood. The real basilisk tried to make sense of what was standing before it, pushing Noah closer to the brink of death every second. His wounds were transferring to the illusion, leaving the deformed beast hemorrhaging from all over and roaring in agony the way Noah wished to.

To the basilisk, this creature before it would be the most effortless victory, but though it wasn’t at all intimidating, it did invoke fear. Its instincts were telling it to stay back, the primordial sense to avoid sick prey. This enemy was suffering from some kind of poison or disease, something that the basilisk might catch. Out of fear of sharing the fate of this newcomer, the beast retreated. No weapon or beast could frighten it, but it dared not risk getting sick.

The elves standing behind Noah watched with their mouths hanging open, unable to believe what they saw. Not only had Noah somehow conjured one of the mightiest beasts in the world, but he had succeeded in driving the other one off. But while Aithorn and the others tried to guess what kind of magic they were seeing or watching the other basilisk flee, Valia was staring at Noah with worry, seeing his clothes get soaked with blood. Only when it was finally gone did he release the spell, shredded by the side effects of using more power than his body could produce.

He collapsed like a fallen tree, losing consciousness to the sound of Valia tearfully screaming his name. Noah didn’t know when he finally woke up, but it was with a spasm of pain. He was lying atop a mattress of animal pelts in a stone room he didn’t recognize. A window was nearby, with sunlight streaming in and nourishing the moss that grew on the floor and walls.

“So you’re finally awake?”

His whole body aching, Noah looked over to see Aithorn sitting in the corner, looking exhausted.

“Yes, but at the moment, I’m going to have to add an ‘unfortunately’ to my answer. Water, please.” Aithorn sat him up and gave him a cup of water, which Noah used to wash down some morphine pills. “How long have I been out?”

“A whole day. Your body was almost ground into pulp.”

“That sounds about right. Where are we?”

“The palace. We treated you with healing and mana potions, but you still wouldn’t wake up, so we carried you here. Well, really it was Valia who carried you. She got quite defensive when you were unconscious, practically hissing at anyone who offered to carry you in her stead.”

“I don’t suppose Valon is here, is he?”

“No, but we have found Gradius’s men. Monsters, illness, heat stroke, and a dozen other dangers culled their ranks, but Gradius wasn’t going to let that stop him, so they deserted him to his mad hunt. Half his men died from his poor leadership, but half survived because his power. When they tried to make it back to the ship without him, they were instead driven here, where they’ve been holding up as best as they can.”

“That means Gradius is all alone in the jungle. I’m still keeping my fingers crossed about drowning in mud.”

“Fortunately, the needle you gave Valia seems to be pointing in a consistent direction, so once you’re ready, we can head out.” “Good, but first I’m going to need some pants.” Aithorn handed him his clothes and armor. “All your clothes were soaked in blood, so Valia took care of undressing you and getting them cleaned. Our one remaining healer feared that if she undressed you, she’d be struck with some kind of curse that bends women to your will.”

“I don’t need magic to do that,” Noah said as he got dressed. He then tried to stand up, but collapsed back onto the bed.

“Take it easy. You realize you almost died, don’t you?”

“I didn’t see the rest of you offering up solutions. I did what I had to.”

“What in the world was that magic you used? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“I don’t like explaining it, because then potential enemies can find a way around it. What I said before, about taking what you saw to your graves, I expect you all to abide by it and tell no one, not even Elisandra of my abilities.”

“You really think of us as enemies?”

“Remember that overtly threatening conversation we had after leaving Sylphtoria? Remember when Torbin wanted to leave me behind because of the ponaturi? Valia is the only person on this island I trust not to stab me in the back and leave me for dead, but if it was for her brother’s sake, I’m sure she’d sacrifice me to get him back. Even if they don’t mean to do it, even if they don’t plan to do it, I live my life waiting for everyone to betray me.”

“Well it might to surprise you then to know that ... I trust you. After what I saw yesterday, I even respect you. You succeeded where I failed: you kept the team alive.”

“If I didn’t do something, we all would have died. My actions weren’t that altruistic.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re a better leader than I am.”

“For you to say that, it means there is a similar event in your past to compare yesterday to. Is this about our fight earlier, or something else?”

Aithorn hesitated, chewing on his words. “Years ago, there were reports of an ogre tribe entering the Anorvan Forest. They had already raided a village, so they had to be wiped out. I volunteered to lead a team to do just that.”

“Do you remember Alexis Veres, the girl who fought under you during the Red Revelries? She’s a friend of mine. We worked together to exterminate an ogre tribe before enrolling in the academy. It’s how we met. You would have been proud of her. Something tells me your fight didn’t go so well?”

Aithorn gave a bitter laugh, the only laugh Noah had ever heard from him. “I underestimated them. I thought it would be easy, like stepping on cockroaches. I had defended Sylphtoria for centuries, defeated countless enemies, and thought my men and I were unbeatable. We had no idea that there would be so many, that they’d be so well armed. They had enchanted weapons, high-grade armor, and numerous mages. It was like the gods were laughing at us, wanting to see if we would break down in tears.

Before we could even do reconnaissance, they came at us like a tidal wave, and there was nothing we could do. My men were butchered in front of me, and I had three arrows planted in my chest. One of my men, wounded like I was, managed to escape with me in tow. We rode to the nearest village, and though I made it, he didn’t.

I led a dozen elves to their graves, and instead of being the first to go like a true warrior, instead of giving my life so they could get away, I was shamefully wounded and came back alive, leaving those who trusted me to be feasted upon by those wicked beasts. My friends and family tried to console me, but nothing they said could change what happened. I even tried to end my own life, to punish myself for my failures, but the queen caught me in the act and convinced me to live.

The only thing that’s kept me going is that I still wanted to serve my nation, to make up for my weakness and the men I failed. I’m a warrior, and I wanted to fight for my people, but it was just too painful to remain in Sylphtoria. I had no right to come home when my decisions meant my men couldn’t.”

“So when Prince Lupin offered a truce with Sylphtoria in exchange for an elven warrior serving Uther...”

“I jumped at the chance. I could protect my nation as a warrior, while still punishing myself for my failures. I deserved to suffer, and I wanted to.”

“When we set out to hunt that monster, you seemed angry and I thought it was because of me. Really, it was because of the three elves with us, right?”

“I told the queen you and I could get the job done ourselves, but she insisted. I could never lead elves into battle again, to have my hands stained with even more blood from my kin. It’s why I wanted you to be in charge of this mission. But every time we lost somebody...” Aithorn paused, and Noah realized he was trying to hold back tears, trying and failing. “Every time we lost somebody, it hurt just like it did before! I still have their blood on my hands because I wasn’t strong enough to protect them!”

He stopped trying to conceal it and began to openly weep. Noah sat silently, not wanting to interrupt him, and after a couple minutes, he finally spoke. “That sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”

“What?”

“I’ve led men into combat countless times, and I’ve lost so many because of my decisions, so I know when someone makes a mistake, and you didn’t. You said you were attacked before you could perform reconnaissance, meaning you didn’t rush blindly into battle. You might have been a little cavalier about the whole thing, but you didn’t lead your men to their deaths. You simply got screwed. Take it from me; it happens to the best of us. Maybe you made some mistakes in the process, but condemning you now wouldn’t change anything. I also can’t criticize your decisions after because, frankly, you’re doing everything right.