Born a Monster

461 There Were Four

There were four, gathered around an unlit bonfire.

“I was expecting more, given the number of spirits approaching.” I said.

The eldest woman glared at the border guardian. “We were assured that there were fewer spirits.”

The guardian shifted uneasily. “There are fewer active spirits than he reported.”

The young man stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I have perhaps storage for ten of those.”

“More than I have. I can bind six.” said the youngest woman.

The barkskin woman (a mix between elf and plant) lifted a bat from her belt, whispered to it and let it loose into the night. “I have summoned aid.”

The eldest grimaced at the advancing wall of fire. “We will still lose trees because of this.”

“The earlier we can return spirits to their home plane, the less destruction they will wreak here.” I said. “I don’t have the fatigue to perform the sending myself, but I have a decent store of various types of mana.”

.....

“Sending?” the man asked. In elvish, “Does he mean banishment?”

“He means to coddle the spirits.” the eldest replied, also in elvish. “Spoil them, comfort them. Just look at the sheer number of them! We’d be sending them back for weeks.”

“I wasn’t doing anything of special importance.” the barkskin said.

The younger woman spoke up. “It depends how much we can get here, and how quickly. But I agree, it will take great discipline on their part.”

“I can speak to them. I’ll help on that part.” I said.

“The issue isn’t speaking to them.” the elder woman said. “The issue is that fire spirits are impatient. Sending them one at a time will lead to infighting over which spirits get sent in what order.”

“A pity we can’t open up a portal or a pathway, and let the spirits take themselves back.” the man said.

“Oh?” the eldest asked. “Are you now a rival to Adara the Blue? To Lensil the Seer, who can just barely open a portal to the First Wood?”

I sighed. “The spirits want to go home. A simple sending should be enough. Ten minutes each, if we divide the ritual between three of us. Twelve an hour; we can have them home before dusk tomorrow.”

“And what,” barkskin asked, “prevents these intruders to your land from just summoning them again?”

I blinked. “It cannot possibly be such an easy thing, or else more people would do it more often.”

“I just realized.” the young lady said. “You are speaking to us in elvish. How and where did you learn our language?”

“It cost three development points through my System.” I admitted.

“IGNITE!” the elder woman said, and the bonfire obeyed. “Well, then, let us see what we can do for our guests.”

The “guests” arrived in almost a stream. The weakest were like large sparks. The strongest... none were larger than three feet, and most were down to a single foot or less. There wasn’t room in the bonfire for all of them, but not by many of them.

the eldest woman said,

A cacophony of voices emerged from the fire.

The border guardian cleared her throat. “If that offer of passage is still open, I’d like to do something about the remaining fire before it gets to the Greywood.”

“Oh, please and thank you.” I said, wiping smoke from my eyes.

The youngest motioned me across the border. A footstep away from it, an arrow plunged into the ground close enough to clip the edge of my toe-claw.

“You, sir, are still forbidden entry to the Greywood.” came a deep male voice, from somewhere deep in the shadows.

“Ugh.” I said.

“Shanatha.” the eldest said to the youngest. “Go to the border, and accept his mana from there.”

I know that elves make many things look easy, but Shanatha was clearly not experienced in transferring mystical energies. To be fair, it was like trying to hold forth a wriggling snake from one open palm to another. If the snake was trying to burn both of you.

“That,” I said, “was more draining than it needed to be.”

“Well, then don’t try so hard to transfer all the power intact. Some mana loss is normal, after all.”

I was too tired to care. “I’ll see about making a camp... no.” I looked at the fire, bright and hot and still going. “I guess I have other work to do.”

To this day, I contend that you do not fight a fire; with dirt and water and whatever other tools available, you strangle it. And the fire fights back, like any other living thing.

Don’t try to fight a fire without the majority of your health. Just don’t.

“Get in here and help!” shouted the guardian.

“I don’t have the health remaining. Someone put an arrow in me, and I haven’t had time to heal.” I replied.

The fire was, unsurprisingly, like a ribbon of death through the forest. Our area would, eventually, stop burning. In theory, I could move northeast or southeast until I reached the end of the blaze.

Don’t ask me why I stayed; to this day, I cannot answer that. There was a tricky portion where a blazing tree fell forward, threatening to serve as a beachhead for fiery advance.

From Lumberjack, I purchased [Precise Chop], which aided my melee skill when wielding axes against plants. I know, you’d think I wanted another ability to increase damage. But, when combined with the ability to critical while harvesting wood, it truly was the cheapest way to go.

I did a prolonged dance around the branches, especially near what had once been the top of the tree. I managed not to burn myself too badly, but again...

“Why are you leaving?” the guardian screamed.

“I’m down to four health!” I screamed back. “One more decent burn and I’m done for!”

came a voice from behind me.

I turned to find a small cat, made entirely out of flames.

he said, licking the back of his paw,

I took a step away from the advancing flames.

He turned up his nose.

I said.

It blinked at me.

I sent out to the campfire.

For two heartbeats, nothing. Then, it was as if some idiot had thrown a firework into the bonfire. Yes, there were secondary fires caused by their passing, but these also were cleaned up with little problem.

I found the cat squinting at me.

I collapsed against a warm tree trunk.

He sneezed. “I shall remember you, Rhishisikk. Be certain that you do not call upon myself or my kindred lightly.”

I licked at the air, tasting nothing but charcoal. “I have learned to respect spirits.” I said. “At least most of them.”

He turned and swished his tail at me.

And, except for someone kicking my foot, I was on my way asleep.

“What?” I asked.

“That was a quick bit of thinking.” the guardian said.

“I’m not sure I was thinking so much as feeling.” I said. “I am being a poor host; I’ve no water left, but I have some strips of dried lizard meat.”

“Keep your hospitality.” she said. “I’ve a duty to return to. I just wanted to say thank you and well done. Don’t read anything into it. If you roll over while you sleep, and part of you extends into Greywood, you will die.”

“Looks far enough away from here, I think I’m safe.”

She nodded. “If you walk in your sleep, be certain you walk back to your own lands.”

“I think...”

[Lucid dreaming engaged.]

Yes, the more human-like breeds of elves can grow beards. It takes about three years between when they start and when it begins to actually look like a beard.