Chapter 34 #2
Instead of luring it even further away and risking a direct confrontation, I channel all my energy in my feet, moving at full speed. Level four sure is better than three. It feels as if I’m teleporting instead of just running.
The world folds for a fraction of a second as I race against time and reappear behind the cover where Moe is crouched over one of the eggs.
She’s quick at work.
A narrow tool is embedded into the shell, her hands steady as she drills through with precise force. The shell resists, but not enough. A crack forms. Then another.
“Almost,” she whispers.
A thin stream of dark, viscous liquid begins to seep out. She quickly positions the container, collecting it with practiced care. The faint glow within the egg pulses stronger as the extraction continues.
I gulp down. Only a couple of seconds but it feels like an eternity as the bird’s growls grow closer and closer.
“It’s almost back,” I whisper.
“Just a bit more.”
I look into the distance. The trees are moving wildly around, a sign the Raffia is not too far off. And once it reaches us… Once it finds us hurting its egg…
“Got it,” Moe breathes, sealing the container. She turns to me, a wide smile on her face.
I sigh in relief and quickly place the container in the proto-realm.
My relief is too short-lived, though. The cracks on the egg fissure at the speed of light. What started as small ones spread into full-fledged veins all across the egg.
“Moe,” I warn.
“I know.”
The shell fractures further, thin lines spiderwebbing across its surface. The structure is compromised. We both see it at the same time.
“We don’t have time. It’s going to break.”
I don’t hesitate. I grab her, pulling her into me as I move us both out of sight. We retreat back to our hiding place and wait.
For a moment, nothing happens. The egg remains as before—full of cracks.
Then…
A sharp, splitting sound.
The egg ruptures. It pulses with life as liquid spills out of it like a geyser.
Light bursts from within, raw and uncontained, spilling into the air like a beacon.
The energy is overwhelming, saturating the space around it.
With the Zantrax in my veins, my senses are sharper.
Even I can feel the quality of energy coming from the egg.
It’s delicious, alluring, hypnotic. I’ve never experienced anything like that before, and if it weren’t for Moe digging her nails into my arms and stopping me from moving, I would have been making my way toward the egg, ready to consume it.
“All right?” She asks again.
“For now,” I admit. “That energy… It’s appealing even to someone who has none.” I chuckle drily.
She doesn’t find my joke funny. “Let’s be quiet now.”
In a matter of seconds the Raffia mother appears. She can sense something has happened to her egg, and upon visual confirmation, her cry of pain echoes through the forest.
It starts an odd ritual of hopping on one leg around the egg, its sounds now similar to gurgles. I’m not sure if this is meant to be a funeral or an expression of grief. Whatever it is, I’m scared about what’s to come next.
But it’s already too late. Something else has noticed.
From the shadows beyond the tree line, a shape emerges.
It’s not nearly as big as the mother Raffia, but it is just as imposing. Its horn glints dangerously. Small, blinking lights are scattered inside its abdomen, moving about haphazardly.
The Wilka.
“Wow,” Moe whispers. “The description in the text did not do it justice.”
“It’s magnificent.”
The colors on its body are so vibrant, too. Compared to the grey and dull Raffia, the Wilka’s coloring is mesmerizing.
It pauses at the edge of the clearing, its elongated body low to the ground, its eyes fixed on the ruptured egg. The faint glow in its chest begins to pulse in response, matching the rhythm of the energy spilling from the embryo. It licks its lips, saliva dripping to the ground.
I can tell what goes inside its mind. It’s absolutely entranced by the energy coming from the egg. It wants it. Badly.
But it doesn’t move.
It stands there, eyes fixed on the egg, the desire written clearly all over its face. But there’s something more. Its body is tense and tight, primed for fight.
“It’s hesitant,” Moe whispers.
“It’s smart,” I murmur. “It’s probably weighing the cost versus the benefit.”
“The egg is not enough?” Moe’s eyes widen.
“It should be. But it’s wary. Perhaps it’s faced a Raffia before and is scared of it?”
She presses her lips together. “We’ve come too far to have our plans ruined by that. I have an idea.”
I glance at her in surprise. “I’m all ears.”
She asks hesitantly. “Do you have another vial of Zantrax?”
Understanding dawns on me. She wants to increase the benefit.
Without a word, I retrieve it from my proto-realm.
“How good are you at throwing?” She asks as she eyes the vial.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I answer drily.
Moving out of the hiding spot, I get up and aim at the center of the egg. At this point, the domain of air might have served me better to reach my target. But I decide to cheat a little and use the propelling force of fire to push the vial exactly where I want it.
I channel a string of fire to follow the vial, increasing the speed right when the Raffia’s attention is on the Wilka.
The vial breaks upon contact and the liquid meets the energy inside the egg.
The reaction is instantaneous.
An overwhelming amount of energy erupts.
It’s an explosion of light and power that saturates the clearing, warping the air itself.
The Wilka’s posture changes. Its nostrils flare. More saliva drips onto the ground.
It lowers on its hind legs, muscles coiling. Then it moves. It crosses the distance in a blur.
The Raffia lunges at the same time.
The impact is catastrophic.
The ground quakes beneath them as the two creatures collide, the Raffia’s immense strength meeting the Wilka’s speed in a violent clash of force.
The Wilka darts, striking fast and hard, its movements almost impossible to track. The Raffia counters with sheer power, each movement capable of crushing bone and shattering stone.
We keep ourselves hidden in the bushes, watching the battle with bated breath and pure awe.
The fight is brutal, relentless. The Wilka circles, avoiding direct hits, its horn glinting as it searches for an opening. The Raffia grows more aggressive, more frantic. Its territory has been encroached upon, its offspring has been destroyed. If it fails here, all of its eggs will become prey.
But just as the Wilka gains the upper hand, it commits a grave mistake. It lunges too close.
The Raffia’s beak snaps forward with devastating force, catching it mid-motion.
A sickening crack echoes through the clearing.
The Wilka releases a cry of pain, struggling to free itself. But the more it moves, the deeper the beak penetrates its body.
Seconds feel like an eternity as the Wilka refuses to give up. It pushes its horn forward, aiming for the bird’s body.
But that one movement causes its demise. Purple shimmery blood drips to the ground. The Wilka’s struggles cease.
It’s dead.
The Raffia throws the corpse to the ground.
“That’s our cue,” I say.
I move.
In one swift motion, I reach the clearing, shoving both the broken egg and the Wilka’s body into the proto-realm. The space warps around them, swallowing them whole before the Raffia can fully register what’s happening.
Then I grab Moe and pull her into my arms.
“We need to run.”
We don’t look back.
The forest blurs as we push forward, the enraged shrieks of the Raffia tearing through the air behind us. The ground shakes with each step it takes in pursuit.
It’s faster than it should be, especially after exerting so much strength. But perhaps we underestimated it.
I hold Moe tighter. The quakes that follow us grow in strength, a sign the Raffia is not far behind.
Branches whip against us, other beasts join the chase upon seeing intruders. The situation becomes worse by the moment, but I keep moving.
As the trees become sparse, I note we’re close to the base of the mountain. Perhaps we’ll be lucky and—
“There!” Moe points ahead.
A cave.
An explosion erupts behind us, followed by a succession of screams.
One second. Two. I dive inside the small opening just as something big smashes against the hard rock. We fall onto the hard ground, breathing hard but otherwise still in one piece.
The Raffia’s shadow sneaks through the opening. It’s there, right outside, but it doesn’t fit in.
It rages continuously, but oddly enough, the mountain doesn’t move. Even though its monstrous force can cause earthquakes, the mountain is completely still in front of its attacks.
Then other sounds join in. More beasts approach. The Raffia finds itself under attack, and as it fights off its other adversaries, it seemingly gives up on us.
Silence falls abruptly, broken only by our ragged breathing.