NOVEL NEXT Episode 6: Ghosts
Fairies aren’t built to be adventurers. They can’t carry heavy loot from dungeons, they can’t carry heavy bags of reward money, and their magic isn’t known for being robustly powerful. They don’t require a lot of food or water, in fairness, but they still have to be able to carry their gear if their party is unwilling.
Lykha is certainly NOT an adventurer. Once upon a time, she believed she could be, but that dream shattered almost immediately upon her setting out on an adventure. Then, several harrowing experiences later, and she finds herself travelling with a supposedly world-renowned monster slayer that no one recognizes in person and an oafish and vulgar teen girl that speaks in near-gibberish of a dialect.
Murtoa is level headed and carries what little possessions and supplies Lykha uses, including her reward money from the nightenmael’s defeat. He doesn’t ask for anything, but he does let her use her healing magic on his injuries to try to help him recover faster, since, if nothing else, he’s her protection from the dangers of the world.
And then, there’s Coco.
Lykha asks, “So, what exactly does a Techromancer do?”
The teen girl looks at her dryly, knowing instantly what the fairy is scheming. She replies, “Yer thinkin’ blob still strainin’ on a real machen makin’ the monsty’s less’an gol’water to a stone, aye?”
Lykha grits her teeth, pretending she understood the full reply, “No, just curious what it is you can do for us.”
“Oooohhh! ‘Us’, ey? Blink a ligh’ an’ strike a match, an’ you a REAL monsty mashuh, ey, Bae?”
“You’re the one that glomped onto our party! But, look around! I don’t see the sand cruiser, so what can you do?”
Coco snickers, retorting, “‘Leas’ I can pocke’ me own jingles and rise to shine ‘fore’s time to shave tread!”
Thankfully, the teen jingles her coin pouch on her belt, letting Lykha realize what ‘jingles’ obviously means. She counters, “You probably stole that!”
“I didn’e grif’ a single jingle! This’s pay for sweet tracks o’rizon chaseuh.”
“You stole that cruiser!”
“So? Goobs’nay’ve a need ta chase a trip to hell! Tha’s a trip tha’s paid in goob’ry.”
“Why wouldn’t we keep it, then?” Lykha looks at the warrior leading them as he walks across empty tracts of desert sand and mountain rock.
Coco replies, “You really’ave gol’water for thinkin’ goo, don’cha? Crashin’ up ‘side a griffed ‘rizon chaseuh. Tha’s jus’ bonky’dee!”
Murtoa looks partially over his shoulder to add, “She’s right. Having valuable things like that attracts too much attention. Including from colossi.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that. So then, why didn’t you keep any of the firearms?”
“Ammunition’s heavy and expensive if you don’t know how to make it. Both of which make firearms extremely valuable.”
“An’ goobs lookin’ta grif’ ya in a tick of your thumpa.”
Lykha sighs. “So, we walk across a desert in hopes the next village is close enough and continue to fight colossi with pointy sticks and a useless teen girl.”
“Listen’ere, Bae! A goob trick-spitta’s got nothin’ on a techromancer! I’m jus’ lackin’ in the bundles o’tech in the modern. But a wee pinch in the pan’s mouth. Gimme two sticks, a juicer, and metalweb, an’ I be tougher than ‘Bando on goobs’a’plenty.”
Coco then adds a little more informatively, “‘Si’es, bundle o’bricksboxes nigh’a hill tumble off!”
The fairy sighs, “What?”
Murtoa answers, “The town is just over this or the next hill.”
“Why can’t you just say that!?” She then looks at Murtoa, asking, “And, seriously! How do you understand her!? Did you grow up in the same place?”
Murtoa replies calmly, “Not now, Lykha. Mind gaining some height and seeing if you can see the village?”
Lykha frowns, but when she looks at Coco, she notices the teen’s smug expression has turned darker, and she won’t make eye contact. Is there more to it than Coco simply being obnoxious?
“Oh, uh, sure!” The fairy looks one last time at Coco, who steps a little more deliberately to the far side of the warrior from the fairy. Lykha flies upwards, gaining height. She looks around, since it’s not a bad time to make sure they aren’t being followed as well.
Fortunately, she doesn’t see any signs of followers -thank the desert for that, at least-, but she does see some dark clouds far on the horizon. A flash of lightning flickers against the nearly-black clouds, but given how clear the air is, it’s probably 40 or 50 miles off for now. She can’t tell what way the storm is going, but she doesn’t have to panic to tell Murtoa yet.
She then spots the village, which should have been easier to see, but a haze of faintly grey smoke seems to obscure most of the village from view.
She flies back down to her companions, explaining what she saw.
“Smoke? Interesting,” is all Murtoa says. He jogs up the hill a little more quickly, reaching the top so he can see for himself.
“Fire?” asks Coco. “I though’s free villages di’n’e burn ‘cause o’ the stone.”
Both girls look at Murtoa, who replies distantly, “Everything burns.”
“What do you think happened?”
“Dunno. But, we should go around.” He checks his gear, murmuring, “...Should…”
The warrior starts down the hill, and Coco falls into step. Lykha flies alongside him, asking, “Wait, we don’t have enough supplies to go around?”
“It’ll be tight. Better to see if we can find anything we need. Perhaps we’ll also be able to end another colossus.”
“You’re in no condition to fight a colossus right now!”
“Opportunity doesn’t wait for the perfect conditions. Keep quiet, and try not to make any sharp or sudden moves.”
“An’ don’ poke yer sniffer in a treasure hole,” adds Coco rather informatively. “Anythin’ boxed in slip o’shade ten’s to bite.”
The three get closer and closer to the village, and a strange smell reaches Lykha’s nose. It smells bitter, and has a sort of salty/acidic flavor. As it becomes more distinguishable, it reminds her of vinegar. She asks, “You guys smell that?”
Both humans shake their heads, and Murtoa asks, “What’s it smell like?”
“I’m not sure… vinegar, kinda.”
“Vinegar. I see.”
“I’m sniffin’ nothin’,” states Coco.
Lykha replies proudly, “Fairies can sense smell better than humans.” She’s bluffing. She has no idea if that’s actually true, or if her two companions have burned-out noses from their lifestyles.
Murtoa replies, “Drakyk’s have keen senses of smell as well. Can be rather useful at times.”
“Does vinegar mean anything? It’s getting stronger.”
“It could, but it could be as simple as a jar of vinegar broke. Keep your eyes open though.”
She nods. Coco says, “‘Usbando, min’ fillin’ me water if ye fin’ some? I wanna’ search that brickbox for some bits and bol’s.”
Murtoa takes the water skin, replying, “We’ll try to find some.”
“Than’s Love!” She jogs toward one of the buildings, and Lykha jokes, “Now, let’s ditch her.”
“Orphanspeak.”
“What?”
“That’s what she’s doing. Adults usually call it orphanspeak. She makes up words for everything because it makes her feel more intelligent and valuable. A lot of orphans grow up not knowing what a lot of words mean, so they retaliate by making up their own. Then, if orphans run into each other, they’ll share words.”
“I mean… I guess I’m not surprised, but... I suppose… I didn’t really realize it either.”
Murtoa replies even as his head pivots to scan their surroundings, “She’ll grow out of it.”
“Alright. I’m surprised you accepted her in the party, though. She doesn’t add much if she doesn’t have tech, and I don’t remember seeing a lot of tech in the gryduke’s gut.”
The warrior scoffs. “I don’t care what either of you do. As long as it’s clear I’m neither of your parent.”
“Yeah yeah. You slay monsters, and we can help if we want to. Got it.”
He chuckles and nods.
The two slow to a stop when they see one of the buildings more clearly through the haze. The building looks like it has been melted, with only a handful of the bricks still intact. Murtoa steps closer, kneeling to inspect one of the melted bricks. Lykha scans around more nervously. She whispers, “What can melt stone like that? Dragon fire? Are there dragon colossi? I thought dragons weren’t real.”
The warrior’s inflection is completely normal, as always, “It’s not dragon fire. Looks more like it was dissolved. Acid, maybe.”
“Wait, you didn’t answer my question. Are there dragons?”
“No residue… strange. Acid spitters leave residue…”
“Acid spitting dragons!?”
“Dragons are believed to be extinct. I’ve never run into one either. No. I’m not seeing any…”
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
The two look in the direction Coco went. Lykha instinctively calls out, “COCO!”
She starts to fly, but halts. Murtoa hasn’t moved. “She’s in trouble!”
He stays in his position a moment longer, saying and doing nothing.
“Didn’t you hear me!? COCO! HANG ON!”
The warrior finally rises, walking in the direction she screamed from.
“What are you doing!? Shouldn’t we hurry!?”
He doesn’t say anything, simply walking towards the source of the teen’s voice.
They find her standing in the open, panting. She turns, frantically asking, “What are they!?”
The creatures snarling at her, but holding their own ground, are about the size of dogs, but have skinny, leathery bodies like a large naked rat. They have reptilian heads, though, with a row of mixed teeth; sharp and flat. Several can’t even be bothered to look at them and are tearing ravenously into… grain?
Murtoa replies, “Braxes. Grain snatchers.”
The several in front hiss and whine at them aggressively, but don’t charge them.
“Are they dangerous?” asks Lykha.
“They can be, if they’re hungry. But, looks like they found what they wanted. Let’s move.”
“You fixin’ to leave ‘em be?” asks Coco, surprised. “They’s monstys! Prob’s done the lot o’this bundle in!”
“I don’t think so. They’re scavengers, not raiders. They’ll leave us alone.”
He starts to walk away, and the teen hesitates, but follows shortly after.
Lykha asks, “You noticed it too, though, right? This town… feels empty.”
“It is. Braxes wouldn’t have come in if there were people.”
“So, what did this?”
“Not sure. No tracks, no residue. I’m not sure what would do this.”
“I’tell ya,” murmurs Coco. “‘T’was a solaghoul. Snatched all’sa talkas right up and slicked away in’a wind’s whisper.”
“S-Solaghoul?”
The warrior says as he inspects another dissolved building, “Old legend. Supposedly a phantom that appears only under certain conditions and will make entire towns disappear.”
“No ‘s’posedly’ ‘bout it! ‘S true!”
“Not saying it isn’t. But, it’s not confirmed. No point in hunting a phantom if it doesn’t exist to begin with.”
Murtoa leads to a pump house, where the town's water feed comes from. He pulls the door open, carefully scanning the room. Lykha holds onto his helmet, looking around the dark structure as well. It’s fairly small and simple, with a pair of large, mechanical pumps.
The warrior inspects some lids and gauges as the two girls look around. He asks, “Can you make this run?” He gestures at one of the central machines of the pump house. If Lykha had to guess, it’s the pump itself, since the other major component is a large tank.
Coco clears the nervousness out of her throat, saying confidently, “‘Course I can! I can brin’a tick to any scrubbed turna ‘fore Bae can fin’a front butt!” She snickers and jogs to the pump, not hesitating to start turning switches and hit buttons.
Lykha whines, “Anyone can just hit buttons!”
The teen retorts over her shoulder, even as she continues turning switches and hitting buttons, “Techromanca’s strengt’ i’n’e trickshines or big word boxes! Techromanca’s strengt’ be no fear bringin’ the tick tock back!”
The fairy grumbles, “That just sounds like recklessness.”
“You thinkin’ too much. Love! Tug that wall arm for me, will ye?”
She points at a lever on the wall near where Murtoa is tapping on the tank. He looks and walks to the lever. He pulls it from down to up, and a light clicks on the pump’s switch panel.
Coco grins at Lykha, and she teases, “Want’sa know why I twist ta off’ers first?”
The fairy crosses her arms, grumbling, “You got lucky.”
“Nay. Done bob-bombed too many roundy’bouts.” She flips one switch, and the pump whirs to life with a loud hum. “‘Useless teen girl’. Pah!” The teen walks away from Lykha to join the warrior as he opens a valve and fills their water skins. He also dumps out a hard water bottle from his gear bag and fills it as well. As water sprays out of the valve on the floor, Coco catches some with her hands to drink.
Lykha hovers cautiously closer. She feels a little bad.
“Coco… Thank you.”
The teen looks at her, surprised and confused. She asks, “What’chu on abou’? Done only me obligory for the par’y.”
“I’ve been… kinda mean to you, though. So, um, thank you for doing it anyways. And… I’m sorry.”
The teen waves her off, saying, “Talkin’s’nay a botha. ‘Leas we talkin’.”
The fairy smiles gently, watching the teen continue sipping water from her hands. She hovers down and joins beside Coco to drink some as well.
Murtoa marches around the pump house, still investigating or keeping watch.
The motor sputters and seems to choke, rumbling briefly before spinning down. Everyone glances at it, and Lykha asks, “What happened to it?”
“Loss’er tickin’ juice. Sun suckas mus’ be hidin’ or juicers scrubbed by’s’a solaghoul.”
“Can you fix them? Or we?”
“No need,” replies the warrior. “Not our problem.”
“What if other wanderers like us come through and need it?”
“Well’s dug and water’s clean. If they need water, they’ll have to figure something out. Usually, there’s a dip column nearby, which I’d have used if Coco couldn’t start the pump.”
Coco adds, “Usu’ly, juicer bits boxmade wit’ mud and nasty water. Take e’en me a migh’ too many ticks to slop up.”
“Alright… I just wish we could do-...” A sudden motion catches her eye, and she looks. Coco looks as well, and the motion is done. But, what moved is still present. It’s a body.
A weak groan comes from the body, and Lykha calls, “Mury!” She flies without thinking to the body, and Coco jogs right behind her.
They both halt, though.
The being seems to be humanoid, but with leathery, scaly skin and sharp teeth. It’s a drakyk, and a fairly young one as well.
And his legs are little more than bones.
The drakyk rolls his eyes in a pained and weary daze, groaning weakly.
The fairy darts to him instinctively, asking, “Hey! Hey, are you with us!? Stay with us!”
“I’m… cold…” murmurs the lizardman. He coughs weakly.
Lykha tries to gingerly inspect his injuries. Even his bones are pitted and corroded, and his flesh isn’t bleeding where it ends at his upper thighs.
Lykha asks desperately, “What happened? Tell us what did this to you.”
“Don’t… know… smoke… so much smoke… a-and… vinegar…”
The fairy looks at the warrior, who is standing behind Coco a few yards away. He doesn’t have his weapon drawn, and is merely watching.
Lykha turns back to the drakyk, “What’s your name?”
“V-Vorsch…”
“Vorsch, stay with me, okay? I’m going to heal you.”
The fairy puts her hands gingerly on the drakyk’s thighs, starting her spell. “Pixies come forth and make it right. Heal-...”
Vorsch’s hand stops her gently, and he shakes his head weakly, “No…”
“What!? Look, I can…”
“No… i-it’s too late… I… I just want to rest… I… I don’t want this pain anymore… E-everyone’s gone…”
“We don’t know that! We can keep searching-...” Lykha’s eyes are watering now.
“No… I… saw…” He coughs weakly. “T-Trying…” He wheezes, coughing weakly. “S-so much pain…”
“Let me heal you! Please! I-We have to do something!” The fairy is nearly sobbing now.
“L-let me rest… please… I-... I just want to join my… f-f…” He coughs again.
“You can start-...” “Lykha.” She snaps her gaze to the warrior, and he shakes his head.
She shouts at the warrior, “DO SOMETHING! PLEASE! WHAT DO WE DO!?”
The warrior sighs. He walks closer to them, and she moves out of his way. Murtoa asks the drakyk, “Are you sure? There’s no undoing it.”
“I-I’m sure… I have n-nothing left… And it hurts so much.”
“It can be healed!” cries Lykha desperately.
Vorsch strains a smile, whispering, “N-not my legs,...”
“I understand,” replies Murtoa gently.
“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! DON’T DO THIS! PLEASE!”
“Do you want a prayer said?”
“No… just to rest…” whispers the pained drakyk.
“Please don’t do this. Mury, we can save him! There has to be a way!”
Coco places her hand on Lykha’s shoulder, looking up with watering eyes and a pained expression.
“Rest well, Vorsch,” replies Murtoa. With a swift, unstoppable motion, a dagger is unsheathed, does its work, and is sheathed in the blink of an eye.
Lykha watches in horror, but as the drakyk’s eyes drain of life, his expression softens, like the pain is washing away, finally.
“Th-... Thank you…” slips across his long tongue, barely audible.
Silence fills the pump house, save for the sniffles and cries of a fairy and a teen girl.
When she can make sense of herself, Lykha screams, “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT!? YOU’RE HEARTLESS! YOU’RE NOT A KNIGHT! YOU’RE THE MONSTER!”
Murtoa says nothing, kneeling with Vorsch’s body a moment longer. He says calmly, but softly, “He was too far gone. Miracle he lasted that long. A nightmarish miracle.” He stands up and walks away.
Lykha cries a moment longer as she sinks to a kneel on the ground at Vorsch’s feet. She whimpers, “How could he… be so heartless? W-We could save him…”
Coco sinks to a kneel next to the fairy, whispering, “We can’t know what’s like… We don’ know wha’ ‘e felt… wha’ ‘e lost…” She sniffles. “‘S not an easy pick makin’... Bu’, he made it.”
“Wh-Why does it have to be that way? Why would he rather die than start again?”
“You don’ jus’ start over…” whispers the teen distantly.
There’s another moment of quiet as Lykha cries a little longer, still not understanding.
She doesn’t speak for the rest of the day. She can’t even look at Murtoa as he investigates more of the damage to the town before continuing on. There’s a dreary quiet over all of them at the grim scene that occurred.
There are other bones and skeletons that they find throughout the town, proving that the population didn’t just walk away. They also find more of the braxes chewing on bones or digging through supplies and food stores. It makes Lykha’s eyes water again, and her stomach turns.
Coco has resorted to assembling something with junk parts she found, clearly trying to distract herself. Whatever she’s building doesn’t look very complicated, but given the components she’s using, it could end up being almost anything.
Murtoa doesn’t say anything or acknowledge the storm cloud of dark emotions hanging over the group. He seems to feel justified in what he did; even merciful. His mind is clear and focused on the task at hand.
And, it makes Lykha angry.
But, even more than that, it makes her sad. She’s sad that he so easily steps away from good deeds.
One of the braxes chewing on a femur finally sets her off. The fairy snaps, “STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!”
She flies straight towards it, using her flame spell as quickly in succession as she can. The brax squeals, sprinting away faster than she can fly. She sinks to a kneel as her energy plummets. She overdrew her magic, and her stomach twists as her heart tightens. She manages to scream in impotent rage, though. She doesn’t care what her life has been like outside her village. Seeing so much death is heartbreaking.
A warrior’s boots stop behind her, but he doesn’t say or do anything. She yells, “LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE AS BAD AS THE MONSTER THAT DID THIS!”
Still, he says and does nothing. She’s drowning too deeply in her emotions to really think about what she’s saying. “How could you do that? Huh? HOW!?”
He still says nothing.
“TELL ME!”
She spins, looking up at him. He is looking at her, instead of looking around. But, still, he seems unwilling to speak.
Coco starts to say gently, “Listen…”
A shrill roar fills the air, startling the two girls as Murtoa looks up. Within seconds, braxes are sprinting past as they squeal and bark in terror. They completely ignore the three as they sprint away.
One unlucky brax, however, doesn’t make it far. A shape swoops down through the smoke, spearing down upon the brax and pinning it to the sandy road. The brax shrieks and flails, but the attacker deftly finishes it with a vicious bite to the throat.
The attacker is some sort of reptilian avian with leathery, bat-like wings that serve as its arms, with simple ‘hands’ at the lower bend to the broad wings. Its long, spiky tail swirls the sand around as it ensures its prey is dead, while its burning eyes look at the three. It bears its teeth, even as it’s biting the brax, and it starts to drag its prey away.
Lykha whimpers nervously, “D-Dragon!?”
“No. Dartwing.”
Murtoa slips a smaller knife than his dagger up from a sheath on his belt. He whirls swiftly, throwing the blade in the opposite direction. A similar yelp as the roar that startled the braxes emits from the haze, and a body tumbles to the ground a few yards from them, roaring and snarling as it viciously tries to grip the ground and recover its footing. Its ferocity works against it, keeping it flailing on the ground for a brief moment.
The warrior yanks Lykha up, shoving her with a brief toss into Coco’s arms. He yells, “RUN! FIND COVER!”
The first monster roars at them, and Murtoa whirls to draw his weapon, twirling it to keep the blade moving.
The second monster -far more brightly colored than the first- manages to lunge as Coco starts in a sprint with Lykha in her arms.
Several more roars come from opposing sides of the road, and Murtoa slashes the vibrant colored monster, causing it to recoil with an angered snarl.
His motions never stop, and he swoops his own body low and under the first plain colored one as it pounces, twirling his polearm skillfully to slash its left arm.
The vibrant monster roars at him, and in a surprise move, he roars back with a loud yell.
Two more monstrous voices roar in unison with the vibrant second from either side of them. Coco narrowly ducks behind a wrecked sand cruiser, avoiding line of sight of a third one of these things.
Murtoa yells at the monsters again, holding his ground fearlessly. The first two monsters roar at him, trying to intimidate him, but they too, hold their ground.
Both girls nearly gasp and scream when a fourth of the monsters -another vibrantly-colored one- crawls over the cruiser, growling aggressively as it makes its way towards the armored human warrior.
The tension mounts quickly. The monsters spread out, circling the warrior, who does his best to keep track of all four of them.
Lykha sees it though.
He takes a deep breath, and exhales in resignation.
A chill crawls up her spine.
Murtoa of Lakia, knight and colossus slayer, a man afraid of nothing, is prepared to die.
He’s expecting it.
Lykha squirms up out of Coco’s arms, screaming, “MURY!”
His grip tightens on his polearm as his first step begins the real fight. His stance is set, the monsters are taking their turn, and what comes relies solely on the fastest and strongest.
And there are four dartwings to one warrior.
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