Mother's Champion

Gathering my strength and perseverance, we wade through the ferns, the swirling green aura of Mother twisting around our bodies as we push forward.

The terrain, I had noticed since leaving the Daemon castra, was rapidly changing. Jurassic ferns blanket the forest floor, their sizes dramatically varying from baby shrubs to dwarf trees.

This region of the forest was slowly shifting from deciduous European woodland to a sub-tropical jungle. Every aching step I took rewarded me with thicker, muggy air to inhale. The warm, humid climate was sapping my dwindling energy, constant water leaves along the route kept my perspiring body hydrated.

The shape of the land shifted from flat and leisurely, to rocky terrain with hidden valleys. More obstacles littered our increasingly hostile path, boulders, gaping cracks, cliff edges and buttress roots. The party was slowing down with each scramble, climb and descent. After leaning heavily on Cane for the last twenty minutes, I am ready to collapse against a tree, then I spot a small concave indent in a rocky shelf. Overhanging gnarled roots obscure the entrance to the damp, grimy, insect infested space. I will sleep like a forest baby tonight.

“Piia, - breathing heavily - shelter. In the cave.” I can feel my body shutting down from the trek. Not waiting for her reply, I slid onto the ground next to the entrance.

“I was hoping for another vagabond tree, Mother has not smiled on us this day.” She replies with fatigue present in her tone.

“This is better than being out in the open all night and I will happily take any bark wrap she has. Do you know if it works for headaches as well?” Struggling to keep hydrated in this sub-tropical environment, and additionally straining my wounded body, my penance was a thriving headache that threatened migraine intensity.

Seeing my discomfort, Piia scans the trees with a trained eye and identifies the correct species. She peels off a few strips, gathers a handful of water leaves and begins chewing.

“A headache, hmmm- she says with a mouthful of plant matter - our term is mindstrain. Chewing on the bark will help some.” She passes me a thin piece, which I chew with a junkie's enthusiasm.

Inspecting my grubby bark wrapped arm once again, Piia’s worried expression deepens. The skin around the arm was inflamed and swollen, the early signs of an infection were prevalent.

She glances up and must have seen an equally depressed look in my eyes.

“You have done incredibly well to travel so far with these wounds Seth, you are stronger than a ferrum tree and will easily overcome this.” Her smile brings me some small hope. However I am not a Satyr youth, this infection is a serious problem.

At least the bark was offering sweet pain killing relief for my headache, silver linings.

Piia spits the bolus of chewed, wet bark into her hand, then offers it to me.

“Finish this, your wounds will need half a tree trunk.” I take the dripping ball squeamishly, she places the remaining bark strips on my lap with a handful of water leaves.

“Thanks. My jaw will be strong enough to bite down a tree by the end.” She fakes a giggle, still attempting to keep the mood positive.

“It is a large amount, in the tribe we chew bark as a group, that way we produce large amounts quickly. It is also a good time to hear private tales.” Piia explains.

“Tell me one of these private tales then. I am sure Cane will be delighted.” My moss blanketed hippo was fast asleep in a heap beside me, he must have learnt to rest at any given moment.

“Later, I will scout the nearby area for Sana flowers and firewood. Let us pray to Mother for help.” She got ready to embark, her stamina was impressive.

Sana flowers, the healing gift from a God in the form of a beautiful flower.

My rattled, traumatised, fatigued brain ticked over, now working slightly smoother with bark numbing properties suppressing the ‘mindstrain’.

I recalled the previous morning when the flourishing banquet presented itself outside our vagabond tree, and I finally remember.

Checking my inventory, I mentally reach into that ethereal storage space and the runes appear in my peripheral vision making me grin with glee.

A single, sunrise-orange magnolia fills my left hand.

“You had one stored this entire time?” She says with shock.

“So much had happened since I took it, I just forgot.”

“Idiot man, you’re denser than a ferrum tree as well. I considered removing your arm last night, to save you from infection.” She crosses over to me and snatches the flower for inspection.

“That storage space kept it fairly fresh, but out in the air, it will wilt fast. Let us get to work.” Grabbing the semi finished bolused bark, she plucks a single petal and pops both into her mouth.

I take another petal, storing the flower away, and with the bark and water leaves, begin making my salve.

Piia walks around the small space outside the ‘cave’ entrance, collecting fuel for the cooking fire.

Cane’s nose inhales a quick snort, his ears prime outwards, he lifts his giant head into the air and looks around vigilantly.

“It’s just Piia, big man.” I say with a mouthful.

The Satyr, reaching for a large stick, stops and cranes her neck.

Reading the room, my stomach drops and my balls creep into my body. Our party is stationary, the jungle forest fills the silence with insects buzzing and distant whooping bird calls.

My eyes fall into the deep green mosaic of thriving ferns and dangling vines, framed by the buttress tree roots and thick canopy. The lichen covered boulders stand alone, isolated islands in the emerald ocean. Mother’s mist, ever present, hangs undisturbed from the lack of wind. The glowing motes and lights are brighter this deep into her realm. For this domain is her creation, the green of life thrives under her watch and protection.

A sliver of contrasting red breaks out from the tapestry's veil. I follow the crimson stripe down the boulder and into the shade of bottom dwelling ferns, the piercing eyes of Mother’s forest Guardian stares back.

The Goliath of deadly mass rises onto all six legs and stands tall over the shrubbery. Piia hasn’t moved an inch, I involuntarily mimic her from pure fear. The bark salve sits against the inside of my cheek, drying out my gums and tongue. Cane moves defensively, standing over me like a guard dog, his bulbous body appears feeble compared to the Guardian’s immense stature.

In the distant background of endless ferns, three more bears appear from the foliage.

“Down Cane.” I hiss at my hippo.

He doesn’t look away from the Guardian, a slight tilt of the head signals he’s listening, protective over his shepherd.

I slowly reach towards his side, not wanting to make any sudden movements and pull down on the edge of his barrel belly. Eventually, after some straining, Cane subsides and lays down on the forest floor.

The lead Guardian approaches at a steady pace, showing no signs of aggression, but no lack of intimidation. It moves through the ferns in silence, like a mega yacht cruising on a calm sea. It reaches and passes Piia without a glance, banking straight to myself and Cane in the dirt.

Wounded, outnumbered and cornered, fate will decide the outcome here.

The great beast looms over us like a mountain, if this species has the equivalent of a silverback alpha then we just became acquainted.

Lowering my gaze, pushing Cane’s head down simultaneously, we submit to Mother’s champion. The bear sniffs my head, breathing in the stink of my odour.

Please say this poncho wasn’t a relation or friend.

I close my eyes, heart pounding in my ear. I feel its moist snout drip onto my wounded arm, it smells my festering, bark matted injury. Then the hot stench of its breath leaves my immediate space, cracking an eye, I see it move onto Cane.

My hippo, having suffered a lifetime of forced labour, knows when to submit to a master. Impassive, the king of all Guardians investigates this creature of the Daemon realms. Sniffing his moss covered back and even licking his delicate pygmy ears.

A low gruff, the mountain island of mossy fur retreats into the fern ocean and disappears into Silva. One by one the Guardians leave until a single bear remains standing in the far distance. Instead of turning to follow its brethren, it lays down in the bush, watching.

Piia walks with unsteady legs to our position, dropping the collected faggot by my feet.

I look away from the solitary bear, once again a mossy boulder in the ferns, and into my Satyr friend’s winning smile.

“What in this green hell are you grinning at, we almost died. Again.” I say, my heart’s tempo is only just beginning to slow.

“Even Guardians will not eat an easy meal when it smells foul.” She laughs.

“You have a really odd sense of humour, you know that.”

“Seth, you just passed a crucial trial.”

“Please explain to my simple human mind, what trial?”

“Mother either sees you as a follower or at the very least not a threat to her own. We can sleep deeply tonight.”

“With that beast, watching us from the darkness?”

“That Guardian is watching, and it will tear apart any threat that ventures too close in the night. Mother had your life in the palm of her hand Seth, she chose not to end it.” Her words finally dawned on me. We are safe. Mother has granted us mercy, at least for now.

We smile together, and a tranquil calm settles over us.

“Do I smell that bad?” I say, knowing the truth already.

“This will be the first time I have envied a man’s poor sense of smell.” We chuckle together, my face muscles struggling to smile, still numb from the bark wrap on my cheek.

“Now finish the healing salve. I will cook the remaining meat, we can eat it with the vegetables I took from the camp.” She says.

“Sounds like a feast.” I add some water leaves to my dry mouthful.

Using my storage space, I place the balls of healing salves into my inventory to keep them fresh and clean.

Piia builds a small campfire and checks the surrounding bush for Pyhera, with no luck.

“Pyheras aren’t usually this few.” She says with frustration.

My flaming blade power could start a fire with a drop of blood. I considered my options, telling Piia about the Chaotic Will I possess might cause her to lose trust in me. She could view me as an evil being, corrupted by Chaos and sent to spy on her tribe. Piia’s prejudice against Cane supports that outcome. On the other hand, she may believe the power was given to me in order to survive the trials I will face in Silva. As a realist and survival expert herself, she could see past the source of these abilities and perceive them as tools and weapons for our daily battles. When we arrive at her tribe, would a simple Shepherd with a hippo companion be enough, or a fiery sword wielding Shepherd?

My fatigue and hunger smother any chance of solving this riddle. With more information and a rested mind, I will decipher the mystery and make a decision later.

“They probably got spooked by the Guardians or our party. Try deeper in the bush.” I suggest. Hoping to get Piia away for a moment.

“I see a fallen tree close by, I am sure there will be a nest underneath.” Piia wades away through the ferns. I slowly unsheath my sword, keeping it low to the ground, so as not to alert our vigilante guard or my Satyr friend. Cane raises his head, guarding and searching for danger.

“Calm my friend, this will just take a second.” I reassure my hippo.

I quickly nick my left thumb with the edge of the blade. A welt of dark red streaks down. I smear the fluid along the top of the sword, leaving a thin trail of crimson blood that almost instantly glows hot with Chaotic Will. I poke the hot end into the kindling, smoke trails lift to the heavens and a small fire is born.

No rampaging noises emerge from the ferns, I release a sigh of relief.

By the time Piia returns, empty handed, the fire was hot and ready for the meat.

“How in Mother’s great gaze did you manage to start a fire.” She says with surprise.

“You should never underestimate a shepherd, young Satyr.” I wink while holding two worn sticks, my blade now cool and resting in its sheath.

“I have never seen elders start a flame with sticks so quickly. You have hidden talents smoothskin.” She joked, the fire lifting her mood.

Piia passes me a sharp stick to skewer the meat with.

“Should we be eating the meat, so close to one of them?” I indicate out into the shadows. Nighttime has encroached, leaving the twinkling lights of Mother all around us. The beast sits in the darkness out there, invisible, but not forgotten.

“This is a wilderness Seth, even Guardians struggle and will eat their kin if need be.”

I recall a nature documentary I watched a few years ago. Bears are omnivores and in the harsh winters they annually suffer, food can be scarce. They will eat almost anything they can in a desperate situation. The sleuth of Guardians looked plump and healthy, hopefully no midnight snacking tonight for our remaining bear.

I pull the slither of bear meat out, sniffing the chunk of red flesh, I can tell the storage space has kept it fresh.

Unsheathing the extremely sharp imp knife, I slice the remaining slither of meat into bite size pieces and place them on skewers over the fire.

“That blade looks ominous, did you steal it from the camp?” Piia takes the offered dagger and inspects the bone structure.

“As I entered the camp, I looted an imp’s corpse. This was given to me, I actually wanted you to have it for protection.”

“I could not part you from such an impressive item.” Piia passes the blade back to me.

“No seriously, I can find another knife. You have no weapons or armour, and this world is getting more dangerous every day.” I return the imp dagger to my inventory space, simply to clean the bear meat juices off the sharp edges. I then offer the now clean blade to Piia. She thinks for a second before taking it.

“Thank you Seth, Satyrs fight with spears or bows mostly, a dagger can always be used when those fail.” She said with gratitude.

“You're telling me, that thing ended the Verox and saved my life.” Piia’s eyes lit up with intrigue.

“Enough teasing human, tell me the full tale of your battle with the beast, every detail this time.”

As the food cooked above the flames, I tell Piia the full version of my epic fight with the raptor. She listens with the silent composure of an attentive audience member. I see a glimpse of life in her tribe, telling stories around the campfire for evening entertainment. By the end, we are eating our small feast and munching down water leaves for refreshment.

“Uku was on your side, you must retell my friends one night. Not many have defeated Mother’s hunters.”

“What is Uku?”

“A legendary warrior that shaped Silva, his chronicles are retold through generations of Satyrs. When all seems lost but you still come out victorious, we say you have Uku on your side.”

“Well, I had a lot of luck.”

“Exactly- she points at my wounds - Let us change the bark wrap for a real healing salve. Are you ready?” I look down at my tattered, grimy wooden scab, the flesh swollen and hot at the edges, I grimace in anticipation of the pain, and I nod.

Piia yanks off the old dressing in a quick motion, like pulling a plaster.

No adrenaline to dampen my senses, only tender flesh aggravated from the long crawl earlier today. The barks numbing qualities had all but run out at this stage. We both chewed healing salve throughout, keeping the material in a moist and practical form to use. Ensuring all the old bark is removed first, we gently applied the salve, I continuously chewed more bark to mitigate further headaches.

“Sana is a powerful flower and your arm will be at full strength in less sun cycles than you think. But we are late in healing this injury, the scars that remain will be with you until your final rest.”

“Having the arm is plenty.” I smile with tears of pain.

“The burn on your hand will be the same.” I nod in understanding.

Removing the thick wrap on my right palm, unveiled a grotesque image of chaotic hieroglyphics. The Daemon symbol on my Xiphos pommel had been branded deep into the skin. Once fully healed, the scar tissue will need to be worked and massaged daily to allow my hand to flex properly.

Night had truly set in, the nocturnal forest orchestra had assembled and collaborated on a wondrous exotic background number.

My right arm was stiff from the hardening salve, with the help of Piia, I crawled into our small sheltered cave for the evening. Cane, too bulky in girth, slumbered outside the entrance. Laying side by side with Piia, fatigue and the sandman strangled my consciousness into a dreamless sleep.