Realm of Monsters - Chapter 674: Winter
Chapter 674: Winter
The world had shifted in a blur and fallen into darkness, leaving Stryg with nothing but a floating orb of light. The strange sensation was disorientating but Stryg was beginning to get used to the book’s magic.
Seeing his father recall his childhood in a world that had been destroyed and left in nothing but ruin had made Stryg uncertain of all the things Holo and Melantha had warned him about the Calamities. He had seen his father obliterate the ebon lords’ army single-handedly. And yet the way he spoke to Stryga, Death was soft-spoken, even thoughtful. Stryg wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Show me the next memory,” Stryg said.
The orb of light shifted into a cold blue hue and expanded until it swallowed the darkness, before shifting into a scene of a wooden cabin. Stryg was a ghost, watching from the center of it all, unseen.
The brisk wind slipped through the cracks between the wooden shutters and slowly flooded the room until Stryga had no choice but to get out of bed. She groaned in annoyance, threw off the blankets and shuffled her way to the window.
Sevryn mumbled something, half-asleep.
“It’s fine, I’ve got it. Go back to sleep,” Stryga waved him back down. She closed the shutters tightly and blinked the sleepiness from her purple eyes.
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. Deciding she was too awake to head back to bed, she threw on her clothes and a fur cloak, before stepping outside.
The cold wind slapped her across the face and strands of white hair got into her eyes. She pushed her hair back and took a stroll down the village, the crunch of snow resounding with every footstep.
A dozen hunters were already up. Having cleared the snow in a large rectangle that served as their training grounds. They were going through the basic spear maneuvers Stryga had taught them.
She had to hand it to them. They were committed to the training, more so than most of the soldiers back in Holo’s Shade. Being trapped in the most deadly forest in all the realms either broke a person or forced them to dedicate themselves to survival.
It had been three years since Stryga had taken over the hunters. Since then, their camp had become a small village. Meanwhile, more and more goblin refugees had entered the forest. But for every three entered Vulture Woods, only one survived past the first few months.
Even her hunters had taken several losses, try as she might to prevent them. The Lunisian army had splintered into several factions, each forming their own small villages throughout the forest. At first, each group only cared about trying to survive, damn the others. But as time went by, they had begun to realize what Stryga had always known; they needed each other if they were going to survive in this place.
The only problem was, among the hundred or so villages, half of them thought they were the ones who should lead. Only Evenfall could put an end to the squabbling and unite them, but the paths into the hidden keep hadn’t opened ever since Lunis fell five years ago.
The scent of venison brought Stryga back to the present and she made her way to the long cabin that served as the dining hall for their village. She grabbed a plate from one of the cooks tending the fire and the roasting meat, gave him a silent thanks, and sat at an empty table.
The table was simple in design, a slab of wood with four legs. A far cry from the furniture carved by master artists and carpenters back in the Veres manor, but there was a beauty to its simplicity that Stryga had grown accustomed to.
“Stryga, I’m surprised to see you up.” Lenore shuffled over to the table with her cane and sat down. “Weren’t you out on patrol last night?”
“Yeah. But I couldn’t sleep,” Stryga yawned. “You?”
Lenore frowned, highlighting deep wrinkles on her forehead. “Have you ever tried to sleep with two babies and a toddler?”
“I can’t say that I have.” Stryga winced in sympathy. “I remember when my baby brother was born, but he had several maids dedicated to taking care of him every hour of the day.”
“Yes, well, these children’s parents are all dead and it seems the whole village has decided it is my job to look after them.”
“Didn’t you once say as a priest of Lunae, it is your job to act as a mother to those who need you, just as the Mother Moon does so for all goblins?”
“There is a reason why we acolytes never work alone. And I’m getting old.” Lenore rubbed her wrinkled hands together. “I can’t do this forever.”
“The kids will be old enough to look after themselves soon enough. Once they can talk and get about, I’m sure the rest of the villagers can help look after them.”
“And what happens when the next orphan is dropped in my lap? Or do you think no one else is going to die?”
“You’re right. Let’s go talk to Captain Nalindor and see if something can be done about it.”
“Good luck with that, he isn’t here.”
Stryga stopped eating and narrowed her eyes. “The meeting with the other village leaders should have been over yesterday morning. He should have been back last night. ”
“Relax. It’s not as if he went off to fight a dragon. He’s just talking to a couple of friendly villages we’ve been trading with for the past year.”
Stryga shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He should have been back already. How am I not hearing about this until now?”
“You were out on patrol. I assumed someone would have told you when you got back.”
“Outside of the hunters, few people talk to me,” Stryga sighed. “I’ll go find Halrin or Myn, see what they know. Excuse me.” She got up and left her unfinished meal.
“Hello,” a goblin greeted her as she walked out into the cold winter morning.
“Hello,” she said off-handedly and made a beeline to the hunter’s lodge.
“You seem to be in a hurry,” he replied casually and matched her pace.
“I am. Are you looking for someone?” Stryga glanced at him. He must have been one of the most recent refugees, she didn’t recognize him.
“Not anymore.”
Stryga did a double-take and noticed that his feet weren’t sinking into the snow. Slowly, she looked up and met his pale lilac eyes. “It’s you…”
“Hello, Stryga.”
She looked around, eyes darting back and forth in a panic. The last thing she wanted was Lenore or anyone else to accidentally walk up to them and annoy a walking calamity.
“Relax, no one is going to bother us,” Stjerne said.
“Have you come to check up on me?” she asked cautiously.
“I was in the Realm. Thought I might see how my gamble was paying off.”
“You were just in the Realm?” His words implied that Stjerne could come and go whenever he wanted, even though the realm bridges had fallen and the Ebon Lords had ordered the chrome gates destroyed.
“I am a god,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts.
“Can you read my mind?”
“Do I have the ability to see your every waking thought without casting the simplest of spells? No. I’m just old and you’re easy to read.”
“But you could read my mind if you wanted?”
“Purple mages can read people’s minds with the right spell. Why should I be any different?”
“Right. Of course.” She was too tense, she needed to relax. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to gather herself. “Did you do something to Captain Nalindor?”
“What? I don’t even know who that is.”
“He’s the leader of our village. He left two days ago to meet with some other village leaders. He should have been back by now.”
“Oh.”
“Could you tell me if he’s dead?”
“Asking a favor from a god, bold of you.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Relax. You mortals can never take a joke.” He winked.
Stryga didn’t know what to say. What was one supposed to say to a small child who could quite literally wipe out her entire village with a wave of his hand?
“…He’s alive,” Stjerne said.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Happy to help. I find myself in a good mood this morning.”
“Oh? Did something happen?” Stryga felt as if she were in one of those elegant dinners with a bunch of nobles, making polite small talk so as to ensure she didn’t offend any powerful noble house.
“As I said, I came here to check on my gamble, you. And there you were, asleep in bed with that white mage. It seems you’ve finally taken my directive to heart. Good.”
“Wait, you were in my house?”
“I’d hardly call it a house. It has a single room.”
“You can’t just walk into someone’s home when they’re asleep.” She glared at him.
He gave her a withering look that cowed her anger into fear. “Careful how you speak to me. I am in a good mood, but that does not mean I will tolerate your disrespect.”
“I’m sorry,” she bowed her head. “I meant no offense. I was just surprised.” She stayed there, head bowed, until he finally relented and walked on ahead.
“I didn’t walk into your house. I don’t need to physically enter your house to sense your whereabouts.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” It didn’t. But little did when it came to gods.
They walked in silence for a while, until Stjerne broke the silence. “You have something on your mind. What is it?”
“I’m never going to see my family or friends again? Am I?”
“No. But they will live, thanks to your sacrifice. If it had not been for the deal you struck, Holo’s Shade would have been obliterated. You can take some comfort in that.”
“I need a drink,” Stryga muttered. “Gods, I miss bloodwine.” She winced, “I mean— I meant no disrespect when I said gods…”
“None taken. Though if I were you, I’d avoid bloodwine or any spirits for that matter for the next nine months or so.”
Stryga stumbled to a halt. “What did you say?”
“I told you I was in a good mood. You’re keeping your end of the bargain.”
A scream echoed in the distance. Stryga turned to see several goblins helping a wounded Nalindor into the village. She glanced back, but Stjerne was gone. Pushing back the thoughts of her own pregnancy, Stryga ran towards the goblins.
Stryga reached Nalindor; his skin was pale and his breathing was ragged. “Someone get Sevryn, hurry!” she ordered.
A goblin ran off with a nod.
“…Nelli…” Nalindor whispered.
“Who did this to you, Captain? What happened?” Stryga asked.
“There was an ambush,” said a goblin Stryga recognized as one of the soldiers who had accompanied Nalindor.
“One of the villages betrayed us?” Stryga asked.
“No. They were others, some other village we didn’t know. They attacked us all when we gathered. They had a mage.” The man teared up but tried his best to keep his voice steady. “Nalindor protected us. The mage conjured spears from the ground. Nalindor pushed me out of the way and he…”
Stryga carefully lifted Nalindor’s red-stained shirt. A long gash ran down his back and side. There was so much blood. “Hold on, Captain. Sev is coming.”
“The white mage won’t make it,” noted Stjerne.
Stryga almost jumped at his voice. The god was standing along with the others as if he were just a goblin like any other. No one seemed to be paying attention to him.
“What do you mean he won’t make it?” Stryga asked.
“He’s lost too much blood. The wound is too deep. If they had brought your captain to the healer as soon as he was injured, then perhaps, but it’s too late now,” Stjerne said.
“Can you save him?” Stryga asked.
“Yes.”
“Please, save him,” Stryga pleaded.
“No.”
“Why not!?”
“Death is a natural part of this world. It is simply his time,” Stjerne replied, his demeanour calm.
“It doesn’t have to be. You can save him!”
“Nelli…” Nalindor muttered. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Stjerne. “You’re it, aren’t you?”
Stjerne kneeled next to him. “Yes,” he said in a soft voice.
“You’ve come to take me?” Nalindor asked weakly.
“People walk into the Chasm alone. They need no help from me.”
“My daughter…” Nalindor swallowed his own blood. “Is she… Is she in Evenfall?”
“Nelli is with her mother in the Chasm. She has been for five years.”
Nalindor closed his eyes tightly. A single tear slipped down his cheek. Then he exhaled and the strength seeped out of him, his body going lax. “I see…”
Stjerne reached out and held his hand. “I will guide you to her.”
Nalindor gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“Where is Sev!?” Stryga looked around, hoping against the inevitable.
“Protect them, Stryga. Keep our people safe,” Nalindor whispered.
“Our people?” Stryga asked in surprise.
The light in Nalindor’s yellow eyes faded and his body went slack. Stjerne picked Nalindor up in his arms and the crowd parted, their eyes glazed over in a daze. A pair of silver wings sprouted from his back and he wrapped himself and Nalindor in their embraces. Pale light shivered through the wings in a ripple, before the feathers flared brightly, and then they were gone.
The goblins looked around as if waking up from a stupor. Stryga fell to her knees. “No,” she whispered in a broken voice.
“Stryga!” Sevryn called out as he ran through the snow. “Where is Nalindor?” he asked when he reached her.
“…He’s gone.”
“ryg… Stryg… STRYG!!!”
~~~
Stryg snapped his eyes open and sat up in bed. He was back in the cabin of the Dragon’s Hoard. Tauri was at his side, slapping his cheek lightly. “Oh, thank the gods, he’s awake.”
“Get him up!” Gale said.
“What’s going on?” he asked blearily. He felt disoriented as if dropping into another of his ancestor’s memories.
Gale drew her sword. “We’ve got a problem.”
