The One Who Holds Lightning

Three months had passed since that day when the tribe of three had formed in earnest. Three months of hunting, sparring, and earnest friendship in this harsh and unforgiving land. In that time they had trekked through the mountains where Flake and Striking Bear had their battle after a brief stay in Striking Bear’s former tribal camp, they traveled through the now long dead remains of the grove where Flake encountered the Fungal God, and they traveled through the vast highland steppes that Flake wandered in his grief, before finally arriving at the charred ashy remains of his old tribe's camp. Hide tents half charred and half rotted still lay in their original positions, the old fire pits which they smoked mammoth meat over had been partially filled in by Wing blown dirt, the dugout canoes which the tribe based their livelihoods around were all either reduced to a pile of ash and charcoal on the bank, or have long drifted down river. Yet what brought painful tears to nearly swell in Flake's eyes were the skeletons of his former tribesmen strewn about the remains of the camp like so much waste. Flake choked back the desire to scream, shout, or bewail aloud as certain skeletal features told Flake which skeleton previously belonged to which tribesman. A wrongly healed arm that once belonged to Sun Hunter’s primary mate, the one who was the mother of Loving Water.

The Shaman in seeing Flake's quivering look of horror put a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Your people will be the last to suffer this fate my friend. Grieve, grieve long and hard for the time of vengeance is soon at hand and we will need the full force of your spiritual powers. Take comfort in knowing soon that their wrongful deaths will be avenged.” The Shaman signalled in understanding and comfort only for Striking Bear to intrude. “No my friend, his people are not the last to suffer this fate. Their people will be the last ones.” Striking Bear signalled in unyielding conviction. The Shaman then took his hand off Flake's back and gave him a knowing nod as he walked about the perimeter of the camp with Striking Bear.

Flake without really thinking found himself walking to one part of the camp specifically, his and Loving Water’s shared tent. Flake dreaded every step, every moment between here and where he was going. Yet something deep down drove him further, he had to check something, had to see it with his own eyes. There their tent lay as a rotted heap of old furs in a broken pile upon the ground. Flake hesitantly stepped forward to it and with shaking hands grabbed at what was once the entry flap of the tent. There he peeled the moldy and half rotten slice of skin upwards to reveal the inside of the tent.

There in the exact horror Flake expected lay the long rotted skeleton of Loving Water herself. The woman whom all he wanted was to love and restart his life as a man with. Only for her rejection to drive him into a madness that would end in him abandoning her when she needed him most. Flake just stood there and stared blankly at her preserved skeleton as he thought to himself. Could he have been a strong warrior valiantly defending his tribe like Striking Bear and The Shaman or would he just have so much as mosquito for them to swat. Really the only reason he managed to stab the lightning holder through the stomach was because he hesitated on account of how similar he and Flake looked to one another. Not even The Shaman was able to actually save his village, but maybe, just maybe he could have saved her if he wasn't manic in his own self obsession. Yet here she lay, a pile of white bones obscured by nothing but a pile of old furs. Someone once so beautiful of mind, body, and spirit, now reduced to this, to a silent pile cut down in its prime.

The hundred what ifs, the imagined futures, the love and children who never got to exist, all of this, all the raw and primal emotion overwhelmed even Flake's expanded consciousness as he dropped the hide and threw his hands into the air as he let out hooting scream of rage that echoed throughout the valley like a thunderclap. There in that moment Flake became his original self once again, the man who failed his family time and time again in spite of his greatest efforts. After his passionate scream was finished Flake put his hands back down to his sides, and made a vow to himself. No more, never again would failure take anything from him. No more loss, no more having his life be the plaything of spirits, gods, and fate like The Shaman said. Flake was his own god now, his destiny was his and his alone to decide. Flake looked at the tent that held Loving Water's remains one last time before he gave his people's gesture of thanks and then turned around to walk towards Striking Bear and The Shaman.

Quickly he caught up to the both of them and they both just gave him a knowing look of understanding. They've all been through the same situation more or less and all knew how it felt to see the bones of your slain loved ones. “What's our strategy from here? Do we search nearby caves? You seem to call them Cave Dwellers after all.” Flake signalled to them both ready to start their quest in full. “Striking Bear and I are looking for any signs of footprints or other recent activity. You should see what you can learn from the spirits of the land as you do. Try to discover any signs of activity that are more human than animal, our enemy may be monsters but they still act like men.” The Shaman explained before they went back to their hunt for footprints.

Flake nodded as he knelt down and put his palm to the grassy earth beneath him. Once again he extended his internal mycelium network out from his hand into soil until it dug into the natural mycelium network of the steppes around him. The signals were far different from what he received in the forests he usually did this in. It wasn't the usual cacophony of a thousand different screaming voices all at once. The signals here were more unified, more in line with each other on account of the broad majority of plants here being the same species of grass. They spoke in unison more like a directed orchestra than a jumbled festival of different screams and commands. There's an excess of phosphorus here, distributing nitrogen there, insects are starting to strip leaves over there. The usual discussions plants and fungi have, just held in a more orderly fashion. Flake sat and listened to land for what seemed like ages, only to hear nothing that wasn't the usual activity of bugs and animals, the footfalls of Striking Bear and The Shaman weren't of notice to the greater network.

In frustration Flake severed the signal and stood up, before he tracked Striking Bear and The Shaman from their trail through the long grass. As the sun teetered the edge between midday and dusk did Flake finally catch up with the pair who looked to have a similar level of success as he did. “Unless they're disturbing the plants as I'm connected to them they know nothing of the Cave Dwellers' whereabouts.” Flake signalled in disappointment. “And we've found no tracks, but I've thought of an idea. Though you may find it somewhat… distasteful.” The Shaman exclaimed with something of a nervous look about his painted face. “I don't care, so long as you leave the bones in peace.” Flake responded in turn. “We have to make this camp look alive again. Make the fires smoke again, fill air with the sounds of men, make the Cave Dwellers think somebody has invaded their territory again. That's when we catch one and force it to lead us back to its camp. With our powers combined I think we can make this plan work, unlike when Striking Bear and I tried something similar years ago.” The Shaman explained in detail. “Fine by me.” Flake responded though he had reserved thoughts about the idea.

So the plan was set into motion, The Shaman would use a large boulder as a canvas to paint multiple humanoid figures on before making them jump to life and wander about the camp in a vague caricature of human activity. Meanwhile Striking Bear went about the camp gathering whatever wood he could find that wasn't either already burnt or soaking wet from the last of the spring rains. At the same time Flake connected back to the mycelium network of the area and listened for any signs of exotic activity in the region, fires, the movement of peculiar animals, and out of place weather effects among others would be clues to Cave Dweller activity.

Day turned to night as the fires raged and the trio took shifts to keep watch and sleep, though that night passed without incident. That morning the trio ate a meal of late spring mushrooms Flake foraged along with dried deer meat they had gathered on their travels to the camp. Flake looked around as he ate, it was uncanny seeing the moldy remains of the camp being populated by shambling human mimics who looked more like how an unknown person might look in a dream than like any real species of human. All three kept a constant vigil upon the hills that surrounded the camp. That evening is when their carefully laid bait was finally taken. At the same time The Shaman felt one of his constructs fade away, Flake felt a jolt of electricity rip through the ground and interfere with the land’s mycelium network. Because there were no clouds in the sky Flake knew in an instant this had to at the very least be another human with powers. “Lightning strikes the hill to our South yet there isn't a cloud in the sky. A cave dweller who held lightning in his hands was the one who initially attacked this camp. Though I don't know how he survived me running a spear through his stomach, we need to approach with caution.” Flake signalled silently to Striking Bear and The Shaman through the same mycelium network.

Striking Bear quickly and quietly morphed into his monstrous bear form as The Shaman ordered his weak human mimics to charge the Southern Hill on mass. Likewise Flake severed his connection to the Earth and sprouted forth numerous mushrooms from his body in the shape of a mighty Death Jaw. Piloting the fungal construct from within as fast as its sideways reptilian legs could muster with The Shaman running after him. Halfway up the mountain the pair heard the crack of thunder and the roaring of a wounded bear. Both scrambled up the mountain as fast as they could no longer caring about reserving energy for the battle ahead. As they got within eyesight of the battle Flake saw exactly the same man he saw the night his tribe was slaughtered. The same heavy brow like his and the lack of a chin on his jaw like his. He had the same face, the same dark skin, the same black hair, and most damning of all, a great scar on stomach exactly where Flake stabbed him with the spear. Flake could see it all because the man stood naked as the day he was born, the only thing covering him were the sparks of blue electricity running up his arms.

The Shaman's human constructs all rushed the Cave Dweller at the same time to cover for Striking Bear whose bear form was currently lying on the ground and suffering from severe muscle spasms. A punch to the jaw, a kick to the stomach, a full nelson from behind, more fists and feet came from every direction before the Cave Dweller screamed out in frustration and held both hands aloft to his sides. There two great arcs of electricity shot out and arced off every single one of the weak constructs and vaporized them instantly. In the distraction Flake, slinking low in his Death Jaw construct, ran in and snapped at the Cave Dweller’s leg. The backwards pointing fungal teeth ripped into the cave dweller’s calf before he turned and sent two arcs of lightning straight into Flake as well.

Flake felt he had been kicked in the chest by a bison or some other similar experience as his muscles tensed to inhuman levels and he lost control of his body and the sound of the static ripped through his mind so violently that he couldn't hear or even see anything else. Flake was only saved from a horrific fate when The Shaman sent forth a couple of wolf constructs at the Cave Dweller. One lunged for the Cave Dweller's throat, and the other grabbed Flake by his fur coat and dragged him away while the Cave Dweller had his attention diverted. Flake had to force himself to breathe, to blink, practically just to keep living. His whole body was numb and exhausted, with a feeling he was being pelted by rain all over and from every direction even though there was no rain present. He could hear The Shaman's battle with the Cave Dweller, rushing of constructs feet on grass, the electric pops of tiny bolts of lightning, all the while he was powerless to do anything but lay there and will himself to keep living.

After a few moments Flake could finally move with great effort and turned his head to look at the action. The Shaman was painting bird after bird on his arms and sending them out to swarm the Cave Dweller’s eyes, neck, and other delicate areas, going for a death by a thousand cuts approach to this battle as he kept his distance. The Cave Dweller in turn could only seem to hold his own, wildly sending bolts and arcs of electricity in every which direction as every other swarming bird seemed to draw a little blood from a claw or a peck. Quickly the Cave Dweller’s face and hips resembled a tree after a bear marked its territory upon it. Yet with each construct lost was another portion of The Shaman's limited stamina reserves spent. Soon the birds began to decrease in number in spite of the Shaman's best efforts, with each wave the Cave Dweller had just a moment longer to try and level a hand at The Shaman to blast him with a bolt of electricity. Flake had to force himself to think and to think fast, if The Shaman gets electrocuted like him and Striking Bear the three of them were dead for sure.

Flake then struggled to hold out his palm, and from it he sprouted the fungal effigy of a small rat, the likes of which his people often ate back on his island home. Yet instead of building it around his body like when he took the form of a Death Jaw this construct was built around a long and thin mycelium tether from Flake's body to its own. Commanding it through signals carried via that tether, Flake sent the rat construct forth charging at the cave to bite at the same wound which Flake inflicted upon him earlier. The rat jumped and bit fiercely at leg wound and the Cave Dweller caught by surprise let out a howl of pain and was open for just long enough for one of The Shaman's crow constructs to peck at his eye wounding it greatly. Once again the Cave Dweller screamed out and held out both hands to send a long crack of electricity arcing off all the constructs, though luckily for Flake the extreme heat burned away his mycelium tether before the electricity could be transmitted to him.

Flake out of the corner of his eye noticed that Striking Bear was not where he lay spasming earlier and was nowhere to be seen. Knowing his friend and trusting his instincts especially for battle Flake knew he had to distract the Cave Dweller for one final push. So Flake leveled his palms to the ground and connected his mycelium network to grassland around him. There bursting from the Earth were tens of new rat constructs on their own mycelium threads just in time to reinforce The Shaman's new flock of crows heading straight for the Cave Dweller. From every possible direction the Cave Dweller was swarmed by tiny biting and clawing constructs as Flake and The Shaman forced the last of their energy reserves into this final bombardment.

The Cave Dweller screamed and sent arcs of electricity in every which direction he could in his desperate panic. Then came the heavy stampeding of bear paws from behind and Striking Bear in his bear form charged at his maximum speed. The Cave Dweller tried to turn yet it was too late, Striking Bear and lunged while transforming back into his humanoid form. The combined weight, power, and momentum of his charging bear form was all concentrated into the end of his big robust fist that connected with the Cave Dweller's face with the maximum force he could muster. The Cave Dweller's face nearly caved in itself as his nose was shattered completely by Striking Bear's lunging full body punch. The Cave Dweller was brutally smashed into the ground by the sheer force of the punch and knocked unconscious as his now thoroughly shattered nose bled profusely. Striking Bear threw his fists up in the air and practically roared in his victory, The Shaman laughed and cheered in relief as his constructs faded away, and Flake smiled as he shakily got to his feet. This first battle of the war had been won, and the one who holds lightning lay unconscious across the grass.