The lizard in purple fled through the jungle, and the adventurer followed.
This was the quintessence of the word “jungle,” deep, emerald, its ancient canopy piercing leaden fog. An unending alternating undulation of mountain, valley and river. Ferns with bladed leaves and hidden roots made travel both difficult and dangerous. The incessant chatter of birds and insects and other animals helped to mask the noise of the fleeing lizard's passage. The adventurer made her way carefully, quickly, but not hastily. She wore a pack upon her back and a sheathed broadsword upon her hip. This she made use of now and then when the way became truly impassable, but sparingly, so as not to dull the edge unnecessarily.
Beneath the vest she wore, her white, long-sleeved shirt was soaked through with sweat. Like the rest of her race, she was not a true cold-blood, but a hybrid, a kind of missing link between amphibians and mammals. Although she preferred the heat, exertion, humidity, and the urgency of her task wore on her. Now she came into a small clearing, where the remains of another campfire indicated once more assured her she was on the right path.
She squatted down and examined the site. Whatever the lizard in purple had eaten, she had left no remains behind. It was always like this. Only ash and charred kindling gave any indication that she was even mortal. Perhaps she was being purposefully mysterious – it didn't matter. Only the mission mattered. The adventurer stood up, dusting her hands on her dark green pants. By now, she knew that she would find no tracks in the undergrowth, no torn pieces of cloth or stray hairs. Yet this didn't matter either. Somehow, she would know which way to go. She always did.
The sun was low in the sky. She began gathering materials for a fresh fire, which she laid directly over the remains of the previous one. She let twilight fade completely before using her flint and steel, taking a draw from her waterskin in the meantime. The sky above was filled with the light of uncountable millions of stars. Now the adventurer felt the full weight of the day's labors. Soon, her snoring drowned out the crickets.
“You slept well,” came a voice out of the ether.
The adventurer jumped out of her bedroll, sword flashing out from its sheath.
“Come now, there's no need for that.” These words carried more than sound. Sam's arm sunk, her blade suddenly taking on several hundred times its usual weight. She let it fall. It sank several inches in to the soft earth.
“This is a dream,” she said. It wasn't a question.
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” The lizard in purple turned her head slightly. The cowl of her robe shadowed her features utterly. Only the white flash of her shark's grin was visible. “Please, won't you gather some wood for a fire? I have trapped a few animals for our breakfast.”
She didn't bother arguing. Everything felt wrong. Unreal. She got up, moving stiffly, like a reluctant puppet. Soon, she had gathered up an armful of sticks and branches, which she dropped unceremoniously at the sorceress's feet.
“Ah, excellent. Most methodical.” She began arranging it in to a shape appropriate for a campfire. A quick gesture with her blue-skinned hand, and the wood suddenly caught alight.
“Of course, I have more mundane methods at my disposal, but I thought you might enjoy the spectacle. Now, shall we eat?”
The adventurer said nothing. They cooked and ate in silence. The sun rose higher.
“What is the point of all this? Why not simply slay me?” the adventurer finally asked.
The sorceress drew back her hood, yet her face was no more visible than before. It seemed to melt in to the background, blending with the greens and browns of the plants. More magic.
“Slay you? What nonsense. Do you think me evil?”
“I saw what your towers have done to the lands around them. No one, no matter how powerful, is above the law.”
“It is all in the name of progress. I wish to improve the lives of my fellow lizards, to lift them up and out of their miserable existences, to show them a better way.”
“By destroying the source of our subsistence? What will you do for the starving and the homeless who have only you to thank for their predicaments?”
“This is not my concern. Sacrifices must be made.”
“Monster. Lizardkind has no need of your brand of altruism!”
She coiled and sprang at the sorceress, hands outstretched, forsaking her blade. She would strangle the life out of her if need be. The lizard in purple only smiled at her.
“Sleep now.”
The sorceress appeared to expand and turn gaseous, as though she had evaporated. Darkness closed in on Sam's mind, and she fell to the ground in a heap.
When she eventually awoke, she would find that the jungle was no more. Her sword was still with her, as if she had never used it at all. She arose shakily, her head still recovering from whatever foul magic had bewitched her, and examined her surroundings.
This was the quintessence of the word “jungle,” deep, emerald, its ancient canopy piercing leaden fog. An unending alternating undulation of mountain, valley and river. Ferns with bladed leaves and hidden roots made travel both difficult and dangerous. The incessant chatter of birds and insects and other animals helped to mask the noise of the fleeing lizard's passage. The adventurer made her way carefully, quickly, but not hastily. She wore a pack upon her back and a sheathed broadsword upon her hip. This she made use of now and then when the way became truly impassable, but sparingly, so as not to dull the edge unnecessarily.
Beneath the vest she wore, her white, long-sleeved shirt was soaked through with sweat. Like the rest of her race, she was not a true cold-blood, but a hybrid, a kind of missing link between amphibians and mammals. Although she preferred the heat, exertion, humidity, and the urgency of her task wore on her. Now she came into a small clearing, where the remains of another campfire indicated once more assured her she was on the right path.
She squatted down and examined the site. Whatever the lizard in purple had eaten, she had left no remains behind. It was always like this. Only ash and charred kindling gave any indication that she was even mortal. Perhaps she was being purposefully mysterious – it didn't matter. Only the mission mattered. The adventurer stood up, dusting her hands on her dark green pants. By now, she knew that she would find no tracks in the undergrowth, no torn pieces of cloth or stray hairs. Yet this didn't matter either. Somehow, she would know which way to go. She always did.
The sun was low in the sky. She began gathering materials for a fresh fire, which she laid directly over the remains of the previous one. She let twilight fade completely before using her flint and steel, taking a draw from her waterskin in the meantime. The sky above was filled with the light of uncountable millions of stars. Now the adventurer felt the full weight of the day's labors. Soon, her snoring drowned out the crickets.
“You slept well,” came a voice out of the ether.
The adventurer jumped out of her bedroll, sword flashing out from its sheath.
“Come now, there's no need for that.” These words carried more than sound. Sam's arm sunk, her blade suddenly taking on several hundred times its usual weight. She let it fall. It sank several inches in to the soft earth.
“This is a dream,” she said. It wasn't a question.
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” The lizard in purple turned her head slightly. The cowl of her robe shadowed her features utterly. Only the white flash of her shark's grin was visible. “Please, won't you gather some wood for a fire? I have trapped a few animals for our breakfast.”
She didn't bother arguing. Everything felt wrong. Unreal. She got up, moving stiffly, like a reluctant puppet. Soon, she had gathered up an armful of sticks and branches, which she dropped unceremoniously at the sorceress's feet.
“Ah, excellent. Most methodical.” She began arranging it in to a shape appropriate for a campfire. A quick gesture with her blue-skinned hand, and the wood suddenly caught alight.
“Of course, I have more mundane methods at my disposal, but I thought you might enjoy the spectacle. Now, shall we eat?”
The adventurer said nothing. They cooked and ate in silence. The sun rose higher.
“What is the point of all this? Why not simply slay me?” the adventurer finally asked.
The sorceress drew back her hood, yet her face was no more visible than before. It seemed to melt in to the background, blending with the greens and browns of the plants. More magic.
“Slay you? What nonsense. Do you think me evil?”
“I saw what your towers have done to the lands around them. No one, no matter how powerful, is above the law.”
“It is all in the name of progress. I wish to improve the lives of my fellow lizards, to lift them up and out of their miserable existences, to show them a better way.”
“By destroying the source of our subsistence? What will you do for the starving and the homeless who have only you to thank for their predicaments?”
“This is not my concern. Sacrifices must be made.”
“Monster. Lizardkind has no need of your brand of altruism!”
She coiled and sprang at the sorceress, hands outstretched, forsaking her blade. She would strangle the life out of her if need be. The lizard in purple only smiled at her.
“Sleep now.”
The sorceress appeared to expand and turn gaseous, as though she had evaporated. Darkness closed in on Sam's mind, and she fell to the ground in a heap.
When she eventually awoke, she would find that the jungle was no more. Her sword was still with her, as if she had never used it at all. She arose shakily, her head still recovering from whatever foul magic had bewitched her, and examined her surroundings.
A small girl was staring at the adventurer with huge eyes. She'd been exploring down in the cliff caverns when a bright flash had gone off and left Sam in it's place. Her parents had always warned her not to come down into the caverns, that strange monsters would be waiting to gobble her up. Was this one of them?
Jennine stayed quiet and tried to make herself small behind a rock. Hopefully it hadn't noticed her. She was quaking with fear and just wanted to be home.
Jennine stayed quiet and tried to make herself small behind a rock. Hopefully it hadn't noticed her. She was quaking with fear and just wanted to be home.
Avior had been flying for days on end. Every spot he landed at, something had chased him out. Last time, when he landed at a village, it was populated by a race of lizard-people, who didn't take kindly to him for one reason or another. His wings, exhausted, simply ran out of energy, and he fell, spiraling down to the ground. He landed right near a young girl, where he lay for a while, then slowly gets up. He looks at the human girl, and says after catching his breath again, "Who're you?"
"I-I..." Jennine was even more scared now. First a lizard person, and now a bird person?? She swallowed. "I'm Jennine..." She said in a tiny voice.
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