Chapter 271 - Howls for Help

I have a pretty good excuse for this one being late! I finished the chapter originally, then realised I needed an additional beat, so had to split the original chapter in two and write a bunch of new content. Hope you enjoy!

“He cannot have the Spirit Sight,” Elder Ashera snapped.

Hump raised an eyebrow but managed to keep his mouth shut. He’d expected some resistance when Ado had brought him to the old woman’s home. It was a surreal experience seeing the inside of it. Her house was impeccably clean, but signs of age were everywhere. At a glance, it had the usual musings one would find—paintings, ornaments, furniture, and all the other things that came with it. Only after looking closer did Hump notice the faded colour to the paintings, and the patina on old bronze statues. It was like stepping into a piece of history, and it told the story of Ashera’s long life.

Though, for all the decorative vases and mounted trophy heads, he saw no sign of her fallen dragon. No painting, no statue, no shrine in their memory. For the woman that had once been First Keeper to have none of it, Hump had to wonder just how the loss of her dragon had changed her.

Ado cleared his throat, pulling an awkwardly helpless frown. “As implausible as it seems, I have no other explanation for what Hump can do. I brought him here so that you can confirm it.”

Ashera took a sip of her steaming wisa drink, from where she was seated at the table. Somehow, she looked even more ancient than her house. Her face was deeply wrinkled. Her cheeks sagged, making her chin droop, and layers of wrinkles built up around her neck. The scaled texture of her face was diminished from when he had seen her last, but the transformation was still there; a result of her progress over mastering her dragon blood. She had a colourful blanket draped over her legs and wore a silk robe patterned with colourful birds.

Her eyes locked with Hump as he studied her. She glared back with grey eyes, only for a glint of red essence to fill them. Immediately, Hump felt something strange come over him.

“Step forward, boy,” she commanded.

He did as she asked, coming to stand face to face with the old woman. As he approached, Nisha rushed forward excitedly beside him. A quick glance was all Ashera needed to quell her. Nisha stumbled to a stop and took a step back, sitting down quietly. Hump blinked. Even at the best of times he couldn’t achieve that with her.

“Stay there, little one,” Ashera said, a touch of tenderness to her voice. “Good.” She turned back to Hump, her face immediately changing to a scowl once more. “Closer than that! I’m old. Come, let me see your face.”

He took another step closer and Ashera’s arm snapped up faster than he could react. She grabbed his chin, clutching it between her fingertips with an iron-strong grip. Pulling him down to her eye level, she focused on his left eye, scrutinising it.

“Call upon its power,” she said.

Hump did his best to ignore his discomfort at being so close to her face, reaching inward and calling upon his essence. It answered easily, flowing to his eye as he’d done before. The process wasn’t as simple as casting a spell. Of course, there was an element of will required to bring out its abilities—it explained why it had taken him so long to figure out its function in the first place—but it was more than simple intent. To use his eye required him to open his mind and expand his senses to the world around him. He couldn’t just wantto activate his power, he had to truly try to see what was before him.

It had taken him some time to figure out, like activating a new muscle, but once he’d grasped the concept the power came easily. He sensed the strength in his eye like a blossoming warmth. They reflected in Ashera’s eyes, his left one glinting red. No matter how much he tried, however, he could not see anything from her. Her soul was almost unreadable. Her control was perfect, but for the faintest of essence rising from her body. Just enough for him to know there was a deep power hiding within her.

After perhaps ten seconds, Ashera released him.

“Well?” Ado asked.

“It seems you are right,” Ashera said reluctantly.

“Why do you seem so disappointed?” Hump asked.

She sighed. “It is rare for blooded to manifest the Spirit Sight. I was the only one for a hundred years, and then the ability found another. They are long dead. Their power wasted. Six generations have passed now, and I hoped another would gain the power before my time comes… only for it to be you.”

“An outsider,” Hump finished.

She nodded. “Fate has made a mockery of my people of late.”

Hump frowned at that. “I’ve never been particularly fond of fate either. In my experience, people make their own luck. That goes double for wizards—the gods certainly never helped us.”

“Your own luck, hmm?” Ashera said. “Well, you have certainly done that. In your short time in Drakalyn, you have climbed further than most do in their lifetime. You are dragon blooded, bonded to a fine young hatchling, and now it seems you have my gift too. It is a shame you did not accept Lady Owalyn’s offer.”

Hump didn’t know what to say. There had been moments where he’d thought Ashera did not hate him, but they always passed quickly.

“Why look at me like that?” she snapped.

Hump paused. “I just always got the impression you would be happy to see the back of me. Of everyone, I thought you might be glad I did not become a Chosen.”

Ashera stared at him, the wrinkles of her face deepening as she frowned. “All I seek is for my people to survive. I am old—far too old for such meddling. When you get to my age, one stops caring about such specifics.”

“Then why?” Hump asked.

She shrugged. “Working with outsiders has only ever ended poorly.” Her gaze turned to Nisha. “I pray you do not learn the same lessons I did.”

As Hump considered her words, it dawned on him why she might be so hostile toward him and outsiders. The obvious answer, and one he dreaded asking about. He swallowed, a feeling of needing to know coming over him.

“Your dragon was slain by outsiders, weren’t they?”

Her long, hooked nose wrinkled, and he knew he’d guessed right.

“By Chosen of Alveron.” She spat the words. “They were surrounded by beasts after venturing stupidly into the Charred Heights. My Hisarun and I helped them, gave them food, shelter, and then while I slept, they cut his throat.” Her eyes became vacant, much like Janeen’s and Myra’s did at times, as if she were staring at a memory. “Wolf dragons are big creatures, and Hisarun was stronger than most. He did not die quickly nor quietly. He killed many, and those he missed I did not. I killed them all, but nothing could be done. Hisarun died in agony.” Her breath quickened. “The moment the bond severs is a moment etched in your soul, wizard. You feel it to your core. The fear, anger, pain, and betrayal. No matter how much time passes, the wound is still fresh.”

The more she spoke, the more Hump’s face fell. In the end, all he could muster was, “I’m sorry.”

“I do not tell you this for pity,” she said. “I tell you this so that you understand why I will not teach you about the Spirit Sight. It’s been almost two hundred years now. I was young, arrogant, and foolish, but I learned my lesson well. Not even the First Keeper of Owalyn is beyond harm, and to never trust ousiders.”

“Elder Ashera,” Ado said. “You know that I more than most can relate to your suffering, but Wizard Humphrey is one of the good ones. We can trust him. We should trust him, for he will return it twice over with his help.”

Elder Ashera leant back in her chair and shook her head. “I will say no more on the matter.”

There was a brief moment where Hump thought Ado might challenge the decision further, but it seemed the shaman knew better.

He nodded. “Very well. We shall leave you.”

“May I say one thing,” Hump said quickly. They both looked at him. “I respect and understand your reason, Elder Ashera. Anger burns within me for the fate Hisarun suffered. If you will not teach me, I will bear no grudge, I only ask that you give me the chance to change your mind.”

“Oh? How?”

“By fighting, of course,” Hump said. “I intend to help in this war against Lich Queen Irila, whether I am an outsider, a Chosen of Owalyn, or a simple hedge wizard. I will prove myself to you. You can see my spirit, can you not? You will know I am earnest.”

She held his eyes for a long few seconds. “Hmm… we shall see.”

Hump smiled. “Thank you. I am honoured to have been welcomed to your home.”

He and Ado left after that, and Hump breathed a deep breath when he was finally able to relax outside.

Ado clutched his shoulder. “That was surprising She might even be considering it. I never throught I’d see the day.”

“Any chance it will work?” Hump asked.

“Maybe? More chance than if you’d said nothing, that much is certain. It’s hard to say with Elder Ashera. I am old, but she’s ancient, and time changes much in a person.”

Hump looked at the shaman and wondered how Ado saw him. Ashera was not the only one to have lost something to the people of Alveron. She had lost a dragon, and Ado had lost a son.

“It meant a lot to hear you stand for me,” Hump said. “Thank you.”

Ado’s grip tightened on his shoulder, and he released it, stepping forward so that Hump couldn’t see his face. “You’re a good lad, Hump. It’s hard not to encourage such talent when it’s right before my eyes. Nel would have liked you, I’m sure. You two would have gotten along. He was eager for adventure just as you are. Never afraid to offer help to anyone, and always the first to volunteer when a job needed doing.”

“Sounds like a good man,” Hump said.

“A better man than me.”

A distant howl erupted. Hump searched for the sound, finding it far to the south. It was a howl he recognised immediately. From Nishari’s alertness, she recognised it too. Excitement flooded their bond, along with a little fear.

“That was a gnoll,” Hump said, his voice ladened with confusion. “Why would they be here?”

“You’re friendly with these gnoll folk, aren’t you?”

“They helped us through the mountains.”

“Then we best move. I know a cry for help when I hear one.”

The two of them moved toward the south side of town. As they passed hunters, who looked unsure of what to make of the sound, Ado ordered them to follow. More gnoll cries joined the previous. As they ran, Nisha tilted back her head, howling her response like an overeager puppy.

From all around Drakalyn, hunters started to gather. Many joined the wake behind him and Ado, following them until they reached the edge of Owalyn’s threshold, where the road Hump and Celaine had followed when they’d first arrived in Drakalyn began.

“Hump!” It was Celaine’s voice. He spotted her in a second crowd already there, perhaps thirty people strong.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Hump asked.

“My best guess is that they’re asking for our help,” Celaine said. “They may be under attack.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Ado said. “And we shall answer them. Hunters!” he shouted, his voice resonating with essence, shushing the crowd and drawing all eyes to him. “Every one of you equipped and ready for battle, follow me. We stride to the aid of our gnoll allies. A hunt is upon us.

Cheers went up amongst the crowd. The hunters moved in an organised fashion, forming into parties and squads. The few Chosen amongst them stepped toward the front, helping to direct them.

“Nisha, you must go and find Myra,” Hump said, sending an image of Celaine’s sister through their bond.

Immediately, Nisha picked up on his urgency. She gave him an argumentative look. He sensed her desire to help, but shook his head.

“You are too young.” Before she could broker further argument, he pointed toward where Celaine’s family home was. “Go! I don’t have time. Rehk and Tokdaar could be in danger.”

That was enough to send her running. She raced toward where Myra would be, where Hump knew she would be well taken care of. With her safe, he joined Ado at the front of the crowd. Celaine was at his side, her bow in hand. They followed the road south, guided by the howls of the gnolls. Soon, they broke away from the beaten path and raced through trees and thick brush. Another howl came—closer than before, but shrill and desperate. A moment later and it was cut short.

“Above us!” Celaine said.

Hump turned his eyes up to see a flock of black crows above them, shrouded in a mist of darkness that protected them from the morning light.

“Don’t shoot them,” Ado said. “The closer we can get before they spot us, the less time they will hav eto react.”

It was less than ten minutes when they found the gnolls. There were dozens of them—the whole pack. They ran side by side, fighting a retreat as undead direwolves and skeletal horsemen pursued them and the black crows harried them from above. There were children amongst the gnolls. Some ran on their own, while the younger once were clutched in arms of adults. Terror was written over each of their faces.

Through the trees, Hump spotted what he took to be the source of the darkness. A grand chariot of ghostly green rode through the trees, shrouded in shadow. Its ethereal form passed through them unimpeded. There was a crack of a whip and an explosion of essence. In that flash of light, Hump saw an ethereal figure atop the chariot, covered from head to toe in cloth wraps so that only its purple eyes peaked out. In one hand, it carried a whip, in the other a reaper’s scythe.

“Horns!” Ado roared.

The trumpet of war horns echoed through the forest.

“Hump, Celaine, I’ll count on you to destroy whatever that chariot is.” Ado’s voice had a snarl to it, his body already shifting.

“You got it,” Hump said, already drawing upon his essence.

Essence rose from Ado’s body, his razorclaw tattoo shining brightest of all. He grew taller and more muscular. His hands changed to claws. In the blink of an eye, he leapt forward onto all fours, charging to the aid of the gnolls.

“Packmaster!” came a shout amongst the hunters.

More joined them. Arrows flew and spearman rushed forward, joining the fray.

“We’ve found them to be weak to fire,” Celaine said. “I’ll draw its attention. You finish it off.”

Hump levelled his staff toward the black chariot, its focus boiling with red heat. “Fire is just perfect.”