17 Chapter Seventeen - Sitdown with a Centaur (1/2)
It definitely wasn't the dreamscape. I had to wander a bit to find things trying to kill me. It was a new and amusing situation.
Most of the Fey seemed to have gotten the news that I wasn't going to kill them unless I had to… or they were Unseelie and deserved it. The two quicklings that thought they were too fast for me were among the latter bunch. Sure, they were fast, living in 4x normal time and what-all, but that just meant I had to use good timing, and being two feet tall and 3 hit dice, they weren't exactly all that tough, especially against a Superior Armed Strike.
Trying to stab me with those ridiculous little daggers, really.
There were giant spiders, beetles, ants, and scorpions; animate vines, a mobile and hungry black willow, a clearing of very poisonous flowers, a circle of dangerous mushrooms; some overly aggressive baboons that nobody would miss, some bloodstags that thought I made a good charge target, a giant toad that thought I looked like a snack, and two giant dragonflies longer then I was tall that I danced with for ten minutes before I took off their wings and got to skin their glittery hides.
A group of tiny Fey mounted on giant crickets made a run at me, and I had cricket for lunch, and wicked little Fey fed the fire.
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”I'm aware you think you're pretty quiet out there. But seeing as you weigh that much, every hoof you set on the ground thrums through the stones. Since I know you're there, trying to watch me in secret is just going to make me laugh at you, and if you spring an ambush, I already know where you are.
”You should have stayed at least fifty paces away from me. Since you didn't, and I didn't sneak up and gut you, you should be able to work out that I don't have it in for you. There's room by the fire.”
There was silence from the surrounding forest, falling quiet with a suddenness born of ties to it.
I heard the deliberate snapping of twigs and brushing of leaves, and the centaur suddenly loomed out of the forest remarkably close to me.
Standard chestnut, with dark fetlocks, tail, mane, and hair. He was wearing gear woven of leather and plant fibers, forming partial armor over his upper and lower halves.
The division of his body was more at the ribs then the waist, which made more sense, as no need to double up on the areas with digestive organs, use the room for larger lungs. His nostrils were wider then a human's, as he had to inhale a larger volume of air, and had the thicker neck to show for it.
He was as brawny as strongly-built man, his horse half larger then a pony, smaller then a good riding horse, and moving more gracefully and controlled then a horse, at any rate. He had a spear in his hand, a bow and arrows stashed on his horse-back, with a shield slung back there too. No helm, pointed animalistic ears, and hard dark eyes watching me carefully. Ornamentation was fringes, embroidery, and some feathers tucked here and there about him.
He looked respectably wild, savage, and competent.
He'd been watching me back there for at least twelve hours, so he'd seen me chop off a giant scorpion's pincers, crack its carapace with my bare hands, and sample its poison with interest, among other things. He knew how dangerous I was, and only my lack of a ranged weapon had given him the confidence to stay with me.
I could tell he was unsettled, nervous, and wary. A masterful forest dweller who could move through the trees like a ghost being caught at it by a human girl clearly wasn't something he was ready to accept.
”I'm Sama. Who are you?” I asked, barely glancing at him as I turned the scorpion tail and claws over the flames. Its poison was already safely tucked away. Not as good as boiling the bug, but needs must.
He replied after a long moment, watching me move with precision and a total lack of fear of him.
”Brownleaf,” he finally replied, his voice naturally quite deep, and clearly uncomfortable.
”You are welcome at my fire, Master Brownleaf,” I invited him cordially. ”I'm not sure if you eat meat, and the water is over there.” I waved my fingers at the river nearby, although I noted he had a skin.
”By your leave,” he agreed gruffly, stepping in further, and then slowly settling himself down across from me. His dark eyes never left me, save to glance at the Sword at hand next to me.
”Meat or no? No plants or grains on me.” His eyes moved then to the scorpion tail and claws, and his tongue came out despite himself. ”Right then. So, what are you doing out here in the deep, dark forest all by yourself?”
”Tracking you,” he admitted forthrightly.
”Not a difficult task, I trust?”
There was a flicker in his eyes. Given my trail of dead… ”No, not particularly.”
”It'll probably be a couple days before I reach my goal. I'm in no hurry.”
He tilted his head slightly. ”You seek the Hags.” See, dryads really are gossips.
”Yes. I will personally be very happy when I kill them. They've been putting me through quite a Hell in Nightmare for the last few years. I think putting them all to the sword and Feeding them to the Land will be a remarkably wonderful thing.”
”Nightmare?” The dreamscape was not an airy thing of wonder to fey-types. Fey came from Dreamtime, so Nightmare was like mentioning a neighboring kingdom. ”How came you to Nightmare?”
”Know much about Annis Hags have children?” I inquired blithely.
He hesitated. ”Only that they kill and devour children, and change shape to lure others to their dooms.”
”Mmm.” I glanced up at them. ”To be specific, when an Annis wants to conceive, it's usually to punish someone enjoying a happy marriage. She waits until she knows the woman is pregnant with a girl-child, then lures, rapes, and consumes a man, if possible the woman's husband.” The centaur's lips thinned despite himself.
”She controls when she bears her child to within a day or two of the woman. However, her child is a soulless thing, more a product of the Hag Curse then anything. She sets her child upon the newborn babe, which consumes it, and takes its form, soul, and place.
”Of course, when it comes of age, the Hagborn, completely unknowing of her fate, is twisted by the Curse into a Hag, just like her Hagmother, thus condemning another innocent soul to the fate of Hagdom. Her first action is usually to slaughter the family who raised her, in revenge for not being able to prevent what happened, and then she flees to find a Coven, if her mother does not take her in for a short time to teach her of Hag society.”
He probably came from a hard people, because he didn't bat an eye, even though his expression was grim.
”And what has this to do with you?” he asked pointedly.
”I'm the baby that was eaten.” He blinked. ”The soul, rather. When the soul is consumed, it is consigned to Nightmare, there to suffer and any sentience it has to be wiped away, to be easily subsumed and later corrupted by the Curse.”
His jaw worked for a time. ”That… is impressive,” he admitted cautiously.
”Not really. Either I got my body back, or the Curse would die. I was born Forsaken. The Curse is magical, and had no way to truly cling to or corrupt my body. It was just a matter of time before I drove it away.” I gestured at the side of my face and my shoulder. ”This is all that's left of it. As I get stronger, even this will fade away. Just a matter of time.”
He grunted, plainly wondering if I was telling the truth, yet finding the uncaring accent of my Fey tongue incredibly compelling. I truly didn't care if he believed me or not, which was pretty convincing all by itself. ”You fight very well for… a child.”
”Yes.” I didn't deny it. ”Would you like to know what Nightmare was like for me?”
He grunted deeply, but I didn't miss the flash of curiosity in his dark eyes.
I flicked my fingers back in the direction of my backtrail. ”You know all the fights I had while you were following me?” He nodded slowly. ”Now imagine those fights, with one minute between them. Never stopping, new ones coming as you win, until you are worn down and die.”
His mouth opened, revealing rather squarish teeth, closed with a click.
”It was Nightmare. I couldn't truly die. So I woke up at Renewal, and went forth to fight again.
”And again, and again.
”It was fight every day, or surrender to the Curse, and be erased forever. Even once, and I would be gone forever.”
I reached out to the first claw, plucking it out of the flames, where its juices were sizzling and boiling out the gap in it.
My nails clenched, and the tough chitin cracked in my grip. I shifted my fingers, clenched them again, and a spiderweb ran between the holes as my hands clenched once more, cracking loudly.