M31

Dear Patrons - Thank you for the support! I am loath to ask any more of you, but I was hoping that if you're enjoying the story and feel like it's worth recommending, maybe you'd give me a review or rating over on RR. I know some of you already have, but I wouldn't mind growing the audience even more, and those things help.  Thanks again for everything!

-Plum Parrot

Morgan knew what was happening as soon as the sparkling purple smoke started to climb up his arm. He could feel the tug of some sort of dimensional magic and knew he was being teleported. He stared at Bronwyn, his brain spasmodically jumping from one thing he should say to another, and before he knew it, the smoke had engulfed him, and he was gone. It was different from the way the Token of Travel had worked. Instead of his vision going wonky and then him instantly arriving in a new place, he felt his mind fill with heavy fog, and then he was engulfed by darkness.

Morgan drifted in a dark void for what could have been a few seconds or a few months. It was a strange sensation - it wasn’t like he was sleeping; he felt conscious the whole time, but he couldn’t accurately mark the passage of time. He’d find himself thinking about something mundane, like what the next guardian in his tower would be like or whether Bronwyn would get back to town, okay. Then he’d have a sensation like a lot of time had passed, but on reflection, he realized he hadn’t thought about too much, and it couldn’t have taken long at all. It was very confusing, and the only thing he could think of was that whatever space he was moving through was outside of time itself.

As suddenly as the darkness had engulfed him, Morgan’s indeterminate voyage through the void came to an end; green lights that seemed blinding to his deprived eyes suddenly blossomed, and he found himself sprawled on a cold stone floor. The air was frigid, much like the deep cave from which he’d teleported. He held very still, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lighting, and looked around, listening with every fiber of his being. He heard a slight bubbling sound coming from off to his right, but nothing else other than his own breathing.

As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in a smallish room built from stone blocks. The floor he was lying on was carved with intricate symbols, and he could feel the grooves of concentric circles beneath his fingers. He saw that the walls of the room were lined with wooden workbenches, and there were bookshelves above the benches. One large volume, probably six inches thick and bound in something like wood and clasped in gold, was open on a lectern near where he was lying.

Morgan slowly climbed to his feet and saw the rest of the room. The green light was actually quite dim, now that his eyes were adjusted, and came from a sconce in the wall near the door. It held a glowing green ball of glass. The bubbling sound was coming from a large beaker filled with some sort of boiling liquid; a small flame was burning beneath it. Morgan dipped his hand into his pouch and pulled out his backup spear. It wasn’t nearly as good as the one he’d left behind, but at least he didn’t feel naked anymore. He walked over to the lectern and looked at the open page of the huge book. Script he couldn’t read met his eyes, along with diagrams that looked like advanced math to him. Still, the book looked important, so he closed the heavy volume and stowed it in his pouch. Shrugging, he walked over to the shelves above the workbench and touched each book, willing them into his storage pouch. He smiled, constantly amazed by the abilities of the dimensional container. His “sense” of the container’s space informed him that he hadn’t filled half of it yet, and there was a lot of junk in there he could dump if he needed to make space.

Just as he was getting ready to check out the door, he heard the handle rattling. Quick as a ghost and just as quiet, he slipped into the corner behind where the door would open. He silenced his breathing and waited while the handle turned and the door swung open. Ice filled his veins when the spider-like legs came into the room. Still, he remained motionless, watching. The Yovashi that tapped over to the workbench was a lot smaller than the two that Morgan had met before. This one wasn’t naked and bald but rather wore a silky black gown, its tentacles writhing just beneath its hem, and had a long mane of silvery hair. Morgan raised an eyebrow; was this the mate of the one in the cave?

He knew he couldn’t wait for the creature to notice the missing books and sound an alarm, so he lowered his spear, activated Hollow Charge and Backstab, and flashed forward, impaling the creature in an upward thrust from its kidney to heart. The Yovashi thrashed as adrenaline coursed through it, letting out a weak mewling cry, dead before it knew what happened. One of its long legs knocked over the beaker of bubbling fluid, and it rolled onto the bench in a semi-circle, the liquid dripping onto the wood and smoking as it ate through it. Morgan yanked his spear out, holding the twitching body down with his boot. Golden motes coalesced on the creature and flowed into him.

Energy coursing through his channels, Morgan took a moment to examine the corpse, especially its neck - he was wondering if he’d find another amulet like the one in the cave had been wearing. He came up empty-handed at first, but then he saw a glint on one of the creature’s tentacles. With the tip of his spear, he pulled up the hem of the silky black robe and saw that the Yovashi had eight tentacles in total, six were thin and slightly longer, and two were thick, short, and had hooked claws on their ends. One of those thick tentacles was adorned with a silvery ring. Morgan grinned and carefully reached down to slide the ring off the tentacle and over the hard, sharp talon.

The ring was large, too big for his thumb even, but then Morgan had an idea and trickled some Energy into it to form a bond. Instantly, he was aware of a substantial interdimensional space. “Ah, fucking cool, a storage ring?” Morgan slipped the ring onto his right hand, and it shrank to fit his finger perfectly. He examined the items in the ring, finding a wide array of belongings: several bolts of some kind of silky material, dozens of vials filled with a variety of liquids, several more books, more valuable looking than the ones he’d already pilfered, an extremely sharp knife made from a black crystalline material, and ten pouches filled with Energy beads that gave off a dark, smokey blue luster. Whatever this Yovashi had been up to, it had been wealthy.

Morgan contemplated trying to bond with the knife to see if it was magical and perhaps better for sneaking around and stabbing, but he loathed the idea of giving up his reach advantage with the spear. He was also afraid the knife might be dangerous; he thought of how Tiladia had warned him about bonding with the diadem and figured the knife looked like it might have something dark inside it. He decided he’d wait until he made it back to the settlement and have Tiladia take a look at his loot before he tried to use any more of it. Thinking of the settlement, Morgan had a thought and activated his Guardian’s Senses, concentrating on Bronwyn. He could feel her strongly, probably only ten or so miles away. She felt like she was off to his left, and, of course, in that direction was solid stone. Morgan would have to get out of this place before getting a sense of the direction.

Before walking over to the door, Morgan took another look at the Yovashi he’d just killed. He realized he’d been avoiding looking at its face, so, to spite himself, he knelt and gripped the sides of its head and turned it, so its face came into view. He felt his suspicions that this was a female of the race were justified. The features of this Yovashi were smaller; the black, saucer eyes were more like large coins and more angular. Still, it had razor-like teeth that extended out of its lower jaw, and even in death, there wasn’t a hint of kindness in its expression. Morgan dared himself to feel some sympathy for the dead thing, but he couldn’t find any. All he could think of was the horrible things the other Yovashi he’d encountered had been capable of doing. He had never believed that any type of person could be inherently evil, but he was seriously doubtful that he’d ever have a peaceful relationship with the Yovashi.

Morgan went to the door and listened; he thought he could hear some sort of murmuring or distant movement, but he couldn’t be sure. Carefully he opened the latch and peered through. A wide hallway, constructed of the same materials as the room he was in, stretched to his left and right. With the door open, he could hear the muffled conversation more clearly, and it seemed to be coming from his left. Leveling his spear, he concentrated on moving silently and prowled in that direction.

He came to a left-hand turn and saw the end of the hallway with a door on either side. He crept up to the doors and was sure the conversation was coming from the door on the right. He padded close to the door and placed an ear to the smooth, polished wood.

“No. Foolish, eggling. Focus on your spirit; use the conduits in your hook palps. Concentrate on corruption.” The voice Morgan heard was sibilant and seemed to be issued by several slightly discordant vocal cords. It sent a shiver down his spine. “NO! You are wasting this meat. Don’t drive the hooks so deep, and before pulling, you must apply the corruption!” The voice was strident, and Morgan heard a whimper and some sort of commotion or struggle. Curiosity warred with caution, and Morgan couldn’t help himself; he carefully depressed the door latch and pushed it open just an inch. He pressed his eye to the crack and looked within the room.

The room was spartan - mostly plain stone, but lovely daylight filtered in through some sort of glass block that made up the top third of the far wall. A rack was situated in the center of the room, and a naked human male hung from the rack. A Yovashi, similarly garbed to the one Morgan had just killed, stood to the left of the rack, and a much smaller Yovashi, also wearing a silky robe, though this one was blue, stood to the right. Both Yovashi had long, white manes. The small Yovashi had its tentacles extended, and the two fat, hooked ones were embedded in the man’s stomach. Morgan studied the man’s face for signs of life, but he was either comatose or dead.

Morgan’s pulse quickened, and he could tell he was subconsciously priming for a fight, but he held himself back. The daylight coming through that wall meant he wasn’t far from the surface. He could make a run for it. On the other hand, here was proof that the Yovashi regarded humans as nothing more than “meat” - even training their children to use them as such. Could there ever be any peace between such different peoples? What if the man were still alive? Could Morgan live with himself if he left him here? He’d chosen to be a Hollow Guard for a reason. Could he kill a child, though? Even a Yovashi? As he watched, the adult Yovashi slapped away the hooked tentacles of the juvenile and then said, “Watch, I’ll show you again.”

Morgan gripped his spear firmly, below the streaks of black blood left behind by the last Yovashi, and steeled himself for combat. He pushed the door open with his foot and prepared to fire off Hollow Charge and Backstab in quick succession again. So far, he’d used the combination of the two skills twice to great effect. The charge seemed nearly to teleport him from one spot to another; he moved so quickly. Even so, his Backstab skill hadn’t had any trouble guiding his placement of the spearpoint as he’d collided with his enemy. He hoped his luck would hold as he stepped into the room.

Of course, he wasn’t directly behind the bigger Yovashi. He was slightly behind it and to the side. This meant that he was somewhat in front of the smaller one, which meant it could see him as he stepped into the room. Morgan saw its eyes widen, and it lurched backward. The bigger Yovashi said, “Hold still, fool, watch me closely!” Then, Morgan was charging, his spear driving up into the torso of the larger creature. The Yovashi gasped, stumbling forward, black ichor flowing freely from its mouth. Morgan immediately started to channel his Energy Drain ability, and he felt the strange, cold Energy come flowing into him through his spear.

The smaller Yovashi stumbled backward into the corner of the room and curled up into a ball, its big, round eyes staring at Morgan while it whimpered. Morgan’s victim was thrashing weakly, and he thought he’d have another quick victory, but then it lurched forward, pulling away from the spear with a sudden burst of strength. Morgan was relentless, though, and he followed it with another stab, ripping another jagged hole in its back. Suddenly, the Yovashi swelled up like it was inhaling, and a colorless wave of force drew into it, jostling Morgan as it passed, and then that same wave of force exploded outward with ten times the power.

Morgan was flung backward by the wave, slamming into the wall. The rack where the human was hanging was blasted away, smashing into the wall with the glass bricks, knocking several loose. The wave of pressure didn’t spare the little Yovashi, driving it into the corner where it was huddled, causing some of its legs to twist and snap. The big, wounded Yovashi slowly straightened, ichor pouring out of its wounds and mouth. It turned and, still choking and gasping, regarded Morgan where he struggled to stand up. “Come for vengeance, have you?” It coughed, the discordant sibilance of its voice made even more strange and eerie by the fluid in its throat.

“Your kind picked this fight,” Morgan said, back on his feet and stalking toward the Yovashi, spear leveled.

“Our kind? Fool. We didn’t come to your world. We don’t kneel at the altar of the System.” Morgan was taken aback by that statement. There was so much to unpack that he physically stumbled while contemplating a response. Recovering himself, he noticed that the creature’s tentacles were moving in a circle, forming a ball of dark Energy. Was it just stalling? He tried to use Hollow Charge to slash at the tentacles, but it was on cooldown. He moved to close the ten-foot gap, and the ball of black Energy surged forth, striking him full in the chest. His breastplate made a hollow clanging sound and bent into him. It felt like an oversized sledgehammer had hit him. The air in his lungs expelled violently, and he stumbled backward, trying to catch his breath. The Yovashi pressed the attack, it was sluggish due to its terrible injuries, but it was on him in a matter of seconds, nonetheless.

Morgan couldn’t get his breath, the breastplate’s curvature had been reversed, and it was pushing into his diaphragm with incredible pressure. Gasping, he backpedaled, driving his spear at the Yovashi with one hand while he called the only sharp object to hand that was in his storage ring. The black crystal knife appeared in his hand, and he quickly slashed the leather straps on one side of his breastplate, relieving the pressure and allowing him to breathe at last. Taking a deep breath, he refocused his efforts on the fight, only to see that the Yovashi had stopped advancing and was looking at the knife in his hand. Its front legs gave way, and it crumpled in front of Morgan. “Where did you get that knife? You killed her. We’re undone!” The Yovashi collapsed further to the floor, all the fight taken out of it. Still gasping for breath and worried about possible reinforcements, Morgan didn’t hesitate; he stepped forward with the knife and hammered it into the Yovashi’s chest.

Dense golden motes, almost as thick as a tangible liquid, flowed out of the Yovashi, streaming together and pouring into Morgan.

***Congratulations! You’ve achieved level 15 Hollow Guard. You have gained 5 Strength, 5 Will, 4 Vitality, 4 Intelligence, and 3 Agility.***

***You have earned the title: Yovashi Bane***

That second message took Morgan by surprise. He’d killed a lot more Yeksa and Urghat than Yovashi. Why was he considered a Yovashi bane? He looked around the room, listening for sounds that someone was coming. He didn’t hear anything other than the soft whimpering from the small Yovashi, still huddled in the corner. He walked over and closed the door, and then he went over to where the wooden rack had slammed into the wall. As he got close, he could see that the human was long dead. The body had flopped onto its back, and Morgan could see that the man had been partially flayed and some of his organs were missing. He turned to look at the cringing Yovashi. He sighed heavily and then opened his status screen, pulling up his Feats and Titles page and reading about his new title:

***Yovashi Bane: You have personally killed a significant percentage of all remaining Yovashi. Your aura has grown heavier and will strike fear and doubt into the minds and hearts of Yovashi that you encounter. This effect will impact other beings that you encounter to a lesser extent. Those affected by your aura will have a reduced ability to resist your abilities and be more likely to avoid conflict with you.***

Morgan counted on his fingers to make sure, but this was only the third Yovashi he’d killed. A significant percentage of all remaining Yovashi? Apparently, there weren’t many of these things. In his mind, that was alright. He put away the black crystal knife and walked toward the whimpering Yovashi with his spearpoint leading the way. “Can you speak?”

“Yes,” the creature replied, very softly. Its voice had that sibilant quality, but the discordant notes were less severe, and it was easy for Morgan to understand it.

“You’re a child, right?”

“Yes.” Its face was turned down, and two long, spider legs were bent in front of it as though to shield it from Morgan.

“Well, look at me. What’s your name?” Morgan tried to soften his voice. He still had adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the title message had sobered him up a bit.

“I am Ykleedra. Are you going to kill me too?” The Yovashi lowered her legs, and Morgan could see her big eyes again, and black streaks ran down her cheeks. Suddenly he felt like shit.

“Look, I’m not going to kill you if you can promise you aren’t going to hunt my kind. Do you have more family around here? Did you kill this man over here?”

“I won’t hunt your kind, I promise!” Ykleedra gasped, staring at Morgan imploringly.

“Well? What about my other questions?”

“I didn’t kill him! Matriarch Tkvanee did that! I only ate what was given to me after. Only my mother is nearby, but you have her knife.” Ykleedra broke into a sob as she finished speaking.

“Ahh fuck.” Morgan looked around, at a loss for his next step. “Just how much of a kid are you? Can you take care of yourself, or do I need to get you someplace else?”

“Oh please! Don’t make me leave. With Mother and Tkvanee gone, I have to tend the eggs.” She spoke quickly, but as she finished, she seemed to realize what she’d said and covered her face with her legs again, shrinking into the corner and breaking into new sobs.

“Um, eggs? How many are we talking about? Are they Yovashi eggs?” Morgan started to get a queasy feeling in his stomach.

“Only three. We don’t have eggs easily anymore. Please don’t kill us!” Ykleedra started to crawl toward Morgan submissively, imploringly. Morgan felt sick.

“Ykleedra, listen. I killed these other Yovashi because they attacked my kind. More than that, they threatened us and ate our friends. I’m going to let you live here with the eggs, but you have to promise me that you will avoid conflict with people and raise the children that come from those eggs to be peaceful, especially with my kind. Can you do that?”

“Yes, yes! I can do this,” the little Yovashi practically sang the words. Morgan concentrated and found the direction where Bronwyn was with his Guardian Senses skill. He pointed in the direction.

“My people don’t live very far away, that way. I’ll come to check on you or send someone else, but you have to be friendly. If we find you’re resorting to the ways of your elders, I won’t be able to stop my people from hunting you all down. Don’t eat people! Eat other animals that can’t think and speak. Do you understand?” She nodded emphatically, and Morgan sighed, standing up straight. “Are you going to be okay? Do you know how to heal or bind your broken legs?”

“Yes! I will be okay, kind one.” She writhed at Morgan’s feet, and again he felt like a criminal of some sort.

“My name’s Morgan. Stand up. You don’t have to debase yourself.” She slowly and painfully rose to her feet, favoring two of her legs.

“Thank you, Morgan,” she said, ducking her head again. Morgan backed up a step. Even as a juvenile, the Yovashi was a creature from his nightmares, and he just wanted to put some distance between himself and this place.

“Show me the exit, and I’ll get out of here.”