Rotten Meat

The road back to Goldspear was quieter than Haruki expected, the only sounds the crunch of boots on gravel and the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. The sky was a dusky gray, the last sunlight bleeding behind the hills like a candle guttering low.

Loto walked ahead with his hands folded behind his back, trying to keep up the very picture of unbothered elegance despite still wearing faint flecks of spider gore on his sleeves. Those were the stains that couldn’t be cleaned off, so he was absolutely not happy about that.

Regardless, he was still a Deacon, so he couldn’t really stay mad forever. A promise was a promise after all.

“So,” Loto began, tapping a slender finger against his chin, “once we reach Goldspear, we’ll begin with something simple: an Echo evaluation.”

Haruki blinked.

“Echo evaluation… like… a test?”

“Precisely.” Loto’s smile was sharp but not unkind. “It will tell us what kind of Echo you possess. More importantly, it’ll give the Naikaia a better understanding of your… shall we say, unique circumstances. And if we’re ever going to get you home, we need that understanding.”

Kiera snorted and crossed her arms, her expression hardening.

“He doesn’t have one. I already told you. He’s not like us.”

“Mm. Yes, yes, you did,” Loto said, waving a hand like he was brushing aside dust. “And yet, we’ve seen stranger things, haven’t we? No harm in trying. We never truly know for certain until someone undergoes the Echo Rite.”

Haruki began shifting uneasily.

“So this… Echo Rite. What does it… involve? Is it dangerous?”

“Not dangerous,” Loto said smoothly, “it is… enlightening. You’ll see it when you get there.”

The sun had now sunk behind the hills, and twilight stretched thin fingers of purple and gray across the horizon. By the time the three of them made camp, Haruki had grown used to the sound of Kiera preparing their tents, carefully tying the knots with huge fat-fingered fire constructs she kept summoning to do all her chores. It was clear this was a habit at this point.

Loto, on the other hand, sat by scribbling in his leather journal. The evening was calm, the smell of smoke from their crackling fire mixing with the cool scent of pine. There was a serenity in this stillness that soothed the soul.

“Haruki,” Loto said, glancing up from his notes, “can you please go fetch us some firewood? We’re running a little low.”

“Yeah, sure. Be right back.”

The forest just beyond their camp was alive with the soft hum of insects and the distant rustle of leaves. Haruki moved at an easy pace, gathering dry sticks along the ground…

Until something caught his attention.

A glimmer of gold-brown against the dim forest backdrop. Hanging off a string from a low tree branch was… food. More specifically a plump drumstick the size of his entire torso, perfectly roasted, glistening faintly as if brushed with oil.

“What the…”

The meat didn’t look spoiled, though there was no sign of smoke or fire nearby. No trap. No warning. It was just… there. Hung carefully, as though waiting for him, without any clue around for him to come up with an explanation for. Haruki’s stomach growled at the mere tantalizing sight, and he chuckled to himself.

“Well, guess it’s my lucky day.”

Cutting the meat down from the tree, he dragged it along by his side. Surprisingly heavy, but fortunately nothing he couldn’t handle. But he still felt that he really needed to do some exercise. He kept delaying those days going for a run or even trying out a gym membership.

By the time he returned to camp, Haruki was practically grinning.

“Hey! Look what I found!” He held the meat aloft, proud as if he’d hunted it himself. “This was just hanging there by that tree over there. Looks good, right?”

Kiera raised an eyebrow, confused. While Loto’s reaction was immediate and intense. The Deacon froze, his journal slipping from his fingers as his face twisted into something between horror and fury.

“Where,” he demanded sharply, “did you get that?”

Haruki blinked, confused.

“I just told you… on a tree branch just over there. What’s the big deal? I mean, it looks pretty great. Don’t tell me you’re too picky to eat free food.”

Haruki even tore a piece out, popping it in his mouth to make sure it wasn’t off or anything. But it was absolutely delicious. Juicy, fresh, perfectly seasoned, even a little crispy, which was surprising to him given the medieval cooking he had seen so far.

“It’s good,” he said with a grin, swallowing. “You guys want some?”

Loto’s eyes widened, and he leaped to his feet.

“NO!”

His hand shot up, and in an instant his finger was glowing with a searing light – activating his Echo. The same ability he used to kill the spider earlier.

“Wait, what are you…”

The blast struck Haruki square in the chest, and the world exploded into white-hot pain. He barely had time to gasp before everything went dark.

After what felt like an eternity had gone by, consciousness finally crept back, but it did so sluggishly. Haruki felt as if he’d been submerged underwater with heavy weights constantly pulling him down deeper and deeper. His limbs wouldn’t respond. The stars above had shifted, and the campfire was nearly embers by this point.

Loto’s face hovered over him, pale with tension, and Kiera knelt nearby, her fire hand construct slapping his cheek, trying to warm him awake.

Haruki groaned, rubbing his head.

“What the hell was that for?”

His head was pounding, and his limbs felt like they’d been filled with sand. Slowly, he sat up and realized he had been placed on a bedroll next to the campfire. He checked the spot where Loto shot him, but miraculously – the hole was completely healed. It was as if there was never any wound there to begin with.

Loto’s expression was still unreadable up close, now like a stone – contemplating something under that thick sense of caution of his.

“I… had to make sure,” Loto said finally, his voice quieter than usual, lacking its usual flourish. “There’s… no way.”

“No way what?” Haruki asked, his voice now hoarse.

Kiera’s tone followed quickly, sharper:

“What are you talking about, Deacon?”

Instead of answering, Loto turned his gaze on Kiera, his face strangely pale. He pointed to the hunk of meat lying discarded a few feet away, wrapped hastily in cloth. He asked her:

“Is this meat fresh? What do you see?”

Kiera looked confused but immediately told him, as if it was supposed to be obvious:

“It’s rotten. What else? Like… literally putrid. You couldn’t pay me to go near that.”

She didn’t even bother to touch it, as her nose wrinkled immediately.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Haruki shook his head, unable to process his confusion. “That’s not… I literally ate some. It tasted fine!”

Loto exhaled through his nose, almost like a hiss, before rubbing at his temple. He explained:

“There are only two possibilities. The Wizards… are beings who feast on rotten meat to gain immortality.”

The words landed like a stone in Haruki’s stomach. Instantly freezing his nerves and mind to the point the memory of the shock and horror he experienced with the Wizard when he first got here had violently resurfaced – after all those days of him trying to forget. Loto mentioned them so casually too. Making it clear that these monsters were a common threat, a constant of nature.

Kiera stiffened beside him, scanning Haruki up and down to see if he was some kind of hidden Wizard. Haruki began touching his own body as well, but everything felt as they should be. Kiera too gradually showed how out of depth she was with this whole situation, despite having countless years of life experience over Haruki.

Haruki decided to press for answers.

“So then… what’s the second possibility?”

Loto didn’t answer right away. His lips moved slightly, almost as if he were muttering to himself, his usually crisp voice trailing into a broken whisper:

“If he sees it as fresh… there’s no way. That’s impossible.”

His eyes flicked back toward Haruki, and for a moment, his expression was full of calculations. Like a man now facing an impossible puzzle from heaven. One he had hoped to never see in his entire life.

Finally, he straightened abruptly, adjusting his hat before telling the two of them:

“We have to go. Now!”

“Wait, what? Why?!” Haruki demanded, but Loto was already moving to pack their camp with uncharacteristic urgency.

No answer was given.