CHAPTER 4
Within the beast’s lair
She will now bear witness to
The awakening
“By what measure do we define this thing called ‘sentience’? The most straightforward answer is the most direct one: a sentient is a being that can think for itself, is capable of acting upon its own decisions, and is distinguished from the lesser animals by its interactions with Sankami’s civilization and society as a whole. By that definition, the eight species, the jackals, and N’Ktane’s race, whatever it was, are all examples of sentient life.
But what of Stalker? One could say that the being we knew by that name was not truly ‘alive’ as we understand it. One could also argue that a creature so driven by lust and insanity, so totally unwilling to act according to the laws and morals of our land, was no more fit to be called ‘sentient’ than a bird or pigboar or goat. (That is, if the birds, pigboars, and goats are truly non-sentient animals. I know of a certain rather deranged rabbit who fervently insists that the goats are carefully hiding their intelligence, in order to lull us all into a false sense of security. His theories are never given much attention, as most of the populace thinks it unwise to encourage him, but I digress.)
So, in that case, what can we make of the being that Stalker created? How do we apply our concepts of sentience to a creature that is unnatural in every way? Is it merely an animal, controlled by stimulus and primitive instinct? Or is it something more…?
[From Ashpaw's personal journal]
Nadeshiko awoke to a curious mix of sounds: the gentle pattering of falling rain on the temple roof, muted crying at her side, and a fierce argument taking place at the foot of the bed.
“I’m going,” said the first voice, hard as iron.
“Takaichi, listen to reason,” replied the second, aged and tired but with conviction in his words. “That creature defeated half the Order singlehandedly. I hardly think that one wounded squirrel would be a match for him.”
“I don’t care, I’m going.”
“Look at yourself! It’s a miracle you aren’t injured worse! Five minutes ago you could barely stand!”
“The Healers patched me up. I’m going.”
“Takaichi…”
“He has my sister, Drake! I’m going to hunt the bastard down, and this time I’m taking more than his eye…”
“Listen, for Orion’s sake! Stalker’s body is fueled by magic you cannot understand! I already killed him once, and he came back-”
“So that would mean that this is your fault, wouldn’t it?”
There was a pause, and then the second voice spoke again, sounding strained. “I admit, I may well be at fault. I assure you I intended none of this to happen.”
“I know you’re not telling me something, Drake. For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve let you keep your secrets. But so help me, if you’re keeping something that could help me save Naole…”
The second voice sounded hollow, damaged by old sorrows. “I cannot help. Fifty years ago, perhaps I could have. Not now. Never again.”
“So it’s up to me. I’m going.”
“Takaichi, I beg of you. For your sake, don’t face him alone. Gather the others… Ashpaw, the vixen, and… and…”
“Hanami. Her name is Hanami.”
“Hanami, yes. You’ll need all of them. And I hope that you have some idea of where you’re going or what he’s up to.”
“I do. I know.” Nadeshiko coughed and made an effort to sit up. Her shoulder burned in protest as she did so. Bandages and healing magic had closed her wound, but the pain was still present, and would be for some time. Her motion caused Lily to look up from her position at the bedside. The elder skunk’s cheeks were wet to the skin with tears.
“Nadeshiko! Oh, thank Goddess, you’re awake!” Lily threw her arms around her daughter, making Nadeshiko grimace.
“Mother, please. That hurts…”
Lily drew back as if she had been stung, shamefaced. “Oh, Little One, I’m sorry! I didn’t-”
“Don’t call me ‘Little One’. Now, Takaichi and… Drake, was it?” The squirrel and the white wolf leaned closer to her. “That thing, Stalker… when he attacked me, he…” Nadeshiko shuddered and drew the blanket tighter around herself. “He entered my mind. He tried to turn my memories against me.”
Zero nodded grimly. “I know the feeling.”
“What he didn’t realize was that I had limited access to his mind as well. I wasn’t able to glean much, but I saw what he’s trying to accomplish.”
Drake’s bright russet eyes gleamed. “And that is?”
“He has two goals. Stalker is stealing souls in order to guide his mother back from the Beneath. In addition, he has been collecting samples of the blood of each sentient race, for a ritual…”
“Mad,” muttered Drake, shaking his head. “He’s completely mad. Even with souls to offer, bringing someone back from the Beneath is impossible.”
“Wait… a ritual?” Zero wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What kind of ritual?”
Slowly, Naole began to emerge from the fog that blanketed her being. The squirrel’s thoughts were sluggish and muted; she had trouble recalling where and when she had gone to sleep. Strange, she thought to herself. It was hard to tell whether her eyes were open or closed, it was too dark… Whatever it was she was looking at, it certainly wasn’t her bedroom ceiling. I wonder if Zero-
Her brother’s name helped to drag her back to reality. A dull, throbbing ache spread outward from a small point on her neck, rather like an insect bite. Naole’s instinct was to scratch at it, but her arms appeared to be stuck to her sides, her legs pinned together. More of her vision cleared, and she saw that most of her body was wrapped in sheets of sticky silk… A small noise of disgust escaped her lips.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The oily, smug voice of her captor dispelled her last vestiges of sleep. Stalker was standing above her, his voice echoing weirdly in the enclosed space… She was able to make out hanging spikes of rock looming above her. A cave, illuminated by a soft glow coming from a source nearby.
Naole tried to speak; her lips and tongue were still numb. “Wha-”
A clawed hand brushed aside a few strands of her hair, making her shiver. “I was almost afraid I had injected you with too much venom.”
“Venom?” She tried to squirm away from his fingertips. “You… you poisoned me…”
“Of course. You fought me,” he said, as if that justified it.
She finally managed to look up at him, and moaned in horror at the sight. The wolf’s right eye socket was a swollen, mangled mass of angry red flesh and dried blood. Fighting the urge to be sick, Naole shimmied backward in her cocoon, but his hand grasped her chin and forced her to look upon his disfigured visage.
“Your brother did this to me,” he whispered. “He was the first to cause me pain since my rebirth… I will make him suffer for it.”
Naole swallowed. “Are you going to kill me?”
He chuckled, a sound devoid of mirth. “If I wanted that, I would have killed you back at the temple, or slit your throat in your sleep… No, I brought you here because you have something that I need.”
The squirrel gasped as the wolf tightened his grip and his claws nicked her cheek. A few beads of blood seeped upward through her fur. He brushed them away and stood, walking to where the light was-
Naole’s hazel eyes widened in astonishment. There was a shallow recess in the center of the cave, where the stalactites and stalagmites curved forward around a pool of churning red liquid. That pool faintly reflected the light from a hazy, cloud-like glow hovering far above it, nearly touching the cavern ceiling… More than a dozen smaller lights circled lazily around the larger one, almost like fireflies. The beacon shone with eerie blue-white light, hurting Naole’s eyes when she tried to look at it two closely.
“Mother’s revenge will be twofold, my dear.” Stalker said as he gazed into the roiling pool, holding his hand above it. Blood dripped from the claws that had pierced her flesh, falling in to join the contents. “By sacrificing enough souls, I shall be able to call her back from the world beyond, and give her a new body, a stronger one… And from this blood, blood from every sentient race in Sankami, including my own, I shall bring forth the first of a new race of her children. A hybrid of every species, a perfect predator!” His voice rose madly as the pool of blood writhed and sloshed at its borders, bubbles forming on its surface. “My Legion! It and its brethren shall fight by my side, cleansing this world of the filth that is unworthy to bask in Mother’s presence…”
“You’re insane,” whispered Naole, horrified but unable to tear her gaze away.
“So they say!” The wolf giggled with demented joy, his remaining eye gleaming in the light of the beacon as he gazed lovingly up at it. “Watch, Mother! Watch, as the first of the Legion emerges!”
No, thought Naole, struggling uselessly in her cocoon. Oh, Shogun and Terra, no! This is wrong, this is sick! Please, let it fail…
The blood pool stopped its churning, becoming eerily still. A dreadful pall of silence settled over the cavern. Naole’s mind screamed, her voice seemed to have withered away in sheer terror. Let it fail, Gods, please…!
A clawed hand broke the surface of the pool, spreading its fingers wide. Then a body heaved itself onto the stone floor, a horrible, furless, skinless body. It writhed in obvious agony, but it did not cry out… In fact, it made no sound at all. Naole could see its broad chest rising and falling as it breathed. It was changing even as she watched… patches of skin were quickly growing over the bare, exposed muscles of the creature. Then came fur: a dozen different shades of grey, with a haphazard pattern of black and white stripes upon its back and its huge, bushy tail. Its ears stood up tall from a mass of sleek black hair upon its head… they were elongated like a rabbit’s, but they were broad at the base and pointed at the tips, rather like a fox. Naole was torn between terror and fascination; she could see traits of at least four different species already. The fangs and claws were from a wolf, obviously. Its muscular frame belonged to a badger. The tail was somewhat of a mix between a squirrel and a skunk’s, larger and furrier than those of either species. Markings on its face had no doubt come from a raccoon, and its almond-shaped eyes were like those of a ferret, only yellow in color. Even as she thought its transformation was complete, its entire body gave a violent shudder. She saw several wounds open in its new skin, beginning to bleed…
Stalker’s expression of twisted glee had contorted into a grimace. “Flawed…” he whispered, his eyes following the blood seeping through the hybrid’s fur. “ It’s flawed! This is no perfect predator! It’s unstable… weak!” He aimed a savage kick at his creation, sending it sprawling. A wheezing breath escaped from it as it fell. “Well, hybrid? Give your master a reason not to put you out of your misery!”
The hybrid looked up at Stalker, its eyes wide with pain and confusion. Its mouth opened, another breath emerged… but no sound. It continued mouthing silently, scrambling to try to stand upright for the first time…
Stalker kicked it again, driving it back down to the hard stone. “You can’t even speak. You’re not worthy to be my Legion…” Eyeing the bleeding wounds, he chuckled to himself. “Perhaps Lesion would be a more appropriate title for the likes of you!” Again he raised his foot, ready to bring it down on the misshapen creature’s spine.
“Stop!” cried Naole from somewhere in a corner. She had managed to drag her cocoon away from the birthing pool, propping herself up against a stalagmite. “Stop hurting it!”
Stalker stared; he had almost forgotten she was there. “You wish me to show mercy upon this wretched thing?” He laughed, an ugly sound devoid of amusement. “Mercy for this, the creature that will end your life? Female, you are more foolish than-”
He stopped. Something strange had happened to the girl. Her eyes had glazed slightly, she was breathing hard. Almost as if she were about to faint…
Stalker’s remaining eye narrowed. “Wait. You… you are unwell…” Stomping over to where she lay, he sank his claws into her silk wrappings and hauled her off the floor. “What ails you, Naole?” His tone had turned to ice. “Did you spread this sickness to the Lesion?”
Naole gasped and struggled uselessly in the cocoon. If the claws dug any deeper, they would tear into her flesh. “I-I… I have… thin blood…” she stammered. The wolf dropped her with a snarl. She fell with a shuddering thud back to the hard, unyielding stone, screamed as her shoulder took the impact, moving in a way it was never supposed to. Searing pain like a white-hot brand coursed through her arm.
“Thin blood,” whispered Stalker, stepping over Naole where she writhed on the floor. “Of course. Weak blood begets a weak creature… I shall simply need to find another squirrel and start again.” A slow, sinister smile spread across his face as a memory from before his part-death floated through his mind, this one not from the spider, but from the wolf called Ares. He recalled watching the girl through her window in the dead of night, seeing the lamp light shine off her golden hair, inhaling the aroma of the many flowers that surrounded her home… “I am leaving,” he said simply. He was speaking to Naole, but his eye focused somewhere far away. “And since you seem so eager to defend my mistake of a creation, I shall let the Lesion introduce itself to you however it sees fit.” He grinned at the hybrid, which had finally managed to stand on its own. “There must be some primal instincts within it, after all.”
“Go Beneath,” said Naole from the floor, her eyes filling with angry tears. She wouldn’t even be able to struggle in the cocoon without doing further damage to her shoulder. Insulting her captor was the only recourse left.
Stalker ignored her. He walked away from the edge of the pool toward the wall of the cave… and to Naole’s astonishment, the craggy stone melted, opening into a perfect doorway to a rainy forest. He strode through it without even breaking his stride. The moment he stepped through, the cave wall reformed itself, becoming solid once more.
Naole shivered. She was now completely alone with Stalker’s monster, with no way to defend herself, no way to call for help. There was nothing but this strange, twisted being, the pool of blood now standing stagnant, and the eerie light of the soul beacon. She noticed with a start that the pool was slowly closing, being swallowed up by the rocky floor until only a tiny hole remained, the size of a thimble. One less thing between her and the monster. Her eyes met those of the hybrid, and it slowly took a step toward her, baring its claws…
They would have made for quite an amusing sight: a young buck squirrel striding forward as fast as he could without actually running, and following some distance behind him, the old white wolf wheezing and gasping and shouting curses at the squirrel’s back as he attempted to keep up. No one at the temple felt much like laughing, however; Stalker had cut a swath of devastation through their forces. In every corridor, grim-faced knights gingerly lifted the fallen bodies of their comrades onto stretchers.
Zero was blind to all the chaos around him. His thoughts focused purely on the creature that had abducted his sister. Each step he took was one step closer to finding her and stopping this madness.
“Godsdammit, Takaichi, slow down!” roared Drake from somewhere behind him. The wolf had somehow acquired a walking stick, and it beat a steady pattern against the tiled floor as he shuffled forward with all the speed his withered body could muster.
“You heard Nadeshiko,” said Zero without looking back. “He wants to create some kind of hybrid thing and set it on Naole…”
“Which is why you need to cool your head and sit down to form a plan! Gods, did the Militia teach you nothing?”
That sentence finally forced Zero to stop and turn around. “That’s not-”
Drake’s eyes fixed him with a steely glare. “It’s completely relevant. But fine, if you want to face both Stalker and his pet monster alone, I won’t stop you. I just want to show you something first.”
“Show me what?” Zero frowned. He stumbled forward as the wolf grabbed his wrist with incredible strength and began to drag him back the way they had come. “Drake, this leads back to the infirmary…”
“We’re not going to the infirmary. Come on.” Drake passed right by the door to the room now filled to bursting with injured sentients and frazzled Healers, turned right, and opened a small, nondescript door, pushing Zero inside.
“Just tell me-” His eyes adjusted to the dim light. Zero felt his throat tighten until he was unable to speak. His fur stood on end, and an old, familiar feeling of terror washed over him…
All around the darkened room were low tables, and upon each was a still body covered by a white shroud. The stench of blood and death hung heavily in the air; there had not been enough time since the attack to apply the traditional herbs to the corpses of Stalker’s victims. Not a sound could be heard save for his and Drake’s breathing.
“This is the mortuary,” said Drake unnecessarily, his voice low. He was as impassive as Zero had ever seen him, even standing among so many bodies. As the squirrel watched with mounting dread, Drake went over to one body and lifted the sheet. He frowned and replaced it, then walked to another. He repeated the process four times until he found what he was looking for. “Takaichi, come here.”
Zero was fighting the desire to run away, leave this room behind, back in his nightmares where it belonged… “I… I can’t…”
“You need to see this,” said Drake.
Shivering at the sudden chill that had descended upon him, Zero went to the wolf’s side.
“Look,” said Drake.
Zero looked, and his heart froze. The knight on the table was another squirrel, barely older than himself. He had to have been recruited out of the Militia at age fourteen or fifteen; Zero knew that a select few welcomed the opportunity to trade the hardships of life as a samurai for the relative ease of living with the Silver Order. The dead knight’s eyes were partly open, glassy and clouded like marbles… Stalker’s claws had punctured his armored breastplate cleanly through, as if it had been made of tin. The fur around the fatal wound was matted with dried blood.
“This was a fully-trained knight, and high-ranked at that… an infantry commander.” Drake’s voice was somber. His expression had softened slightly, with a look of pity in his eyes. “You can tell by the designs on the shoulder plates, see?” Welded to the armor’s spaulders were six bronze flower petals, three on each side.
Zero seemed to have left his voice back in the corridor. He nodded numbly.
“Do you understand why you need to see this, Takaichi?” Without waiting for an answer, Drake went on. “He was an Order Knight, with enough experience, skill, and bravery to rise to the rank of Commander, and Stalker killed him with one strike. And you, a squirrel with… what, six weeks of training at the Militia academy, seven? You want to take this creature and his creation on, alone. Do that, Takaichi, and I guarantee you’ll end up on a slab just like this. That is, if there’s enough left of you afterward. I doubt there will be.”
The squirrel tore his eyes away from the corpse, fighting the urge to be sick. “All right… all right. You’ve made your point. I’ll gather the others… but we won’t even make it back to Tasakeru until morning, we can’t-”
He felt the wolf’s old, withered hand on his shoulder. There was a strange, unreadable expression in those russet eyes. “Have faith in me,” said Drake.
“What do you-” Zero’s voice trailed off. The mortuary was rapidly filling with fog, as if the rainstorm outside had suddenly decided to come in. The squirrel looked down; his boots had left the ground, and were now hovering about an inch above the floor. “Er… Drake?”
The white wolf’s eyes were closed in deep concentration. The fog rose up to envelop the two of them, and the room disappeared from view entirely. Zero’s fur stood on end; there was very old magic being done here, he could feel the sheer power of it in his very bones. Strange, half-formed shapes drifted through the fog like ghosts, and once or twice Zero thought he heard one speaking faintly.
They drifted, perhaps for hours, perhaps for only seconds. Drake’s breathing became slow and labored; whatever spell he was casting was taking its toll. With a shuddering gasp, he opened his eyes, and the fog dissolved…
They were now standing atop Campfire Rock back in Tasakeru, just a few steps from where a cooking fire was burning in a shallow pit. Huddled in front of the fire was Faun, clutching a stick with a blackened fish on it in one hand, and holding a large leaf over her head with the other to protect herself from the rain. She stared at the wolf and squirrel, her deep green eyes wide as saucers. “What… Where did you two come from?!”
Zero shook himself; his flesh was tingling oddly. “The Silver Order temple in Shinboku, last I saw. Drake, how in the Gods’ names did you do that?”
The words were scarcely out of Zero’s mouth when the white wolf collapsed to the wet stone, his body crumpling like a deflating balloon. The squirrel extended a hand to help, only to have Drake weakly push it away. “I’ll be fine,” Drake growled. “Go, get Ashpaw and Hana-”
The squirrel doe’s name jogged Drake’s memory, and he fell flat on his back, his thoughts buzzing. Hanami. On the night that Ares and I battled, he was watching Hanami… He met Zero’s eyes, the horror of realization plain upon his face. “Listen, you must get to Hanami! He’s bound to go after her!”
The squirrel’s eyes narrowed. Pausing only for an instant to give the wolf a silent nod of thanks, he raced off into the gloom. Faun hesitated, torn between following Zero and looking after the old wolf. “Old timer?” she said, wringing her hands together. “You going to be all right here?”
“Just go,” groaned Drake. “Don’t let him near her…”
Faun swallowed hard. For a brief instant, she clasped Drake’s hand and squeezed, then she too slipped away and vanished.
Drake lay there unmoving, staring up at the gray, cloudy sky overhead. The raindrops beat steadily against him, but he couldn’t feel them. His ancient body had gone numb from weakness; such was the price of using the Mistwalker spell in his sorry state. He would not be able to move, let alone get out of the storm, for at least an hour. This didn’t seem to bother him all that much, however. He smiled up at the clouds. A few hot tears trickled down his cheeks, and then became lost amid the falling water as he whispered softly.
“Rain…”
The hybrid was taking cautious steps toward her, sniffing the air, getting a feel for her scent. Those yellow, almond-shaped eyes had not left Naole’s since it had first looked at her. Its strange face was a total blank.
Oh Gods… Naole fought to keep from trembling. It’s toying with me. It’s savoring the moment, drawing it out… just to torture me. Onii-chan, where are you? She blinked, and then wrinkled her nose at that last thought. No, wait a minute. I may be scared out of my tree, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to die crying for help. Stay calm, Naole. Remember all those warrior stories Zero told you… Face death with your head held high… She steeled her nerves, took a deep breath, and glared back at the hybrid with as much force as she could muster. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said.
Its eyes widened a bit, and its long ears perked up. Pausing in its advance, the hybrid leaned forward… Naole noticed that it had a bit of a hunched back, likely from when Stalker kicked it so soon after its “birth”… “I’m not afraid!” She hoped her voice was resolute enough to enforce that statement. “Go ahead and kill me, I’m not going to the Beneath begging for mercy!”
Was that surprise on its face? She guessed it was probably confused, if it even understood her. The next few steps it took were a bit surer, a bit faster. It closed the distance between them in due time, and soon it was close enough that she could feel the heat from its body. Go ahead, thought Naole, swallowing. Get it over with. Serpent, I accept my death with the hope that you will judge my life in fairness… The hybrid leaned over her, still keeping its eyes locked on hers. Naole held her breath…
A cold, wet nose nuzzled her gently. She heard it sniffing as it examined her dislocated shoulder and the layers of silk that kept her bound. An involuntary shudder passed through her as it pressed one long claw against her neck, slowly tracing it down the length of her body.
The breath left Naole’s lungs in a gasp of surprise as the cocoon fell apart, split down the middle by the claw. A brief glimmer of hope shone within her. “You’re…” The glimmer faded as quickly as it had appeared. “You’re letting me go because I have nowhere to run, aren’t you?” She sighed and closed her eyes, once more preparing herself for the moment when the claws would pierce her flesh.
The creature licked her cheek. Not in a lingering, predatory way, it was just a brief flick of its tongue.
Naole stared at it in astonishment. No. It’s not possible… is it? Acting on a sudden impulse, she tore free of the remains of the cocoon. The movements made the creature scramble backward from her. She stood, gingerly flexing her aching joints, and it began to shiver, cowering from her. “What kind of a monster are you?” She frowned, crossing her arms. “You really must be a failure if you’re scared of a sick little doe like-”
The realization hit her like a blow to the head. “You’re not a monster,” she whispered, looking into its eyes. “You’re not a killer, you’re not a predator, you’re not anything…!”
Its mouth opened, and it tilted its head to the right quizzically.
“The ritual did work, but not how he wanted it to,” continued Naole, still thunderstruck. “You’re sentient, not a mindless brute like he wanted. And…” Naole tilted her head to the right as well, and the thing copied her expression exactly. Acting on a hunch, she tilted to the left, and it mimicked her, looking pleased with itself. “You’re a cub…!” Naole clapped her hands, delighted… and grimaced as pain shot upward through her arm. Sighing, she shut her eyes tight, grabbed hold of her collarbone, and pushed hard, biting her lip to keep from crying out. With a muffled pop, the bone slid back into place. Naole flexed her arm experimentally. It wasn’t an ideal fix, but it would do.
The noise had startled the hybrid, and the fur on its enormous tail was standing up in alarm.
“It’s all right, I won’t hurt you.” Naole kept her voice calm and even, extending her hand. “Do you understand me? My name is Naole. Naole Takaichi.”
Very slowly, the hybrid extended its hand as well.
Naole took it gently, and held it to her heart. Its eyes widened as it felt the pulsing rhythm through her ribs. “See?” she said, smiling. “I’ve got a good heart, just like you do.” She returned his hand, then pressed it to his own chest. The heartbeat there was strong and vibrant.
The hybrid’s mouth curled into what was unmistakably a fanged smile.
“You do understand!” Naole beamed at it… him, she noted with some amusement as she got a closer look. “Can you… I suppose I can’t keep calling you ‘you’, can I?” The squirrel looked away thoughtfully. “What was it that Stalker called you?” Eyeing the dried wounds underneath its fur jogged her memory. “Lesion,” she said. “No, we can’t call you that. Besides, they’re already starting to heal. Legion, that was it!” Once more, she took his hand and put it to her heart. “Naole,” she whispered. “Naole. And you’re Legion.” Naole put his hand against his chest, then released it and bowed to him, watching him carefully.
He seemed positively delighted. His ears stood straight up, and he grinned wider than ever. Eagerly he repeated the gesture and the bow. She could see his lips moving, trying to form her name.
“Naole. That’s right!” The squirrel felt pride swelling up within her as she stood back up. “It’s okay if you can’t speak, we can find other ways to talk. Thank you for cutting me loose, Legion!” Her newfound enthusiasm dimmed as she looked around the gloomy little cave. “The problem is we don’t have anywhere to go. We’re stuck here until we can figure out how to open the doorway again.”
Legion noticed her face fall, and frowned along with her. Still standing close to her, he began to sniff at their surroundings, his yellow eyes scanning back and forth.
“Looking for where he went?” Naole chuckled. “Smart male! I think it’s some kind of magic door. Over there,” she said, indicating the wall through which Stalker had disappeared.
Legion shuffled to the wall, sniffing with fervor and testing it with his fingertips.
Coming to his side, she looked for any kind of crack or loose spot that could trigger the transformation, with no luck. “I suppose without a spell, we’re… Wait,” she said, thinking back. “The pool shrank out of sight as soon as Stalker left. Maybe it’s not just the door that’s magic!” She indicated the whole of the cave, then faced Legion, her mind racing. “Maybe it’s the whole place! As soon as he needed a door, it appeared, and as soon as he didn’t need the pool, it put itself out of the way… Maybe the cave makes whatever you need?”
The hybrid blinked.
Naole closed her eyes and thought of the doorway, concentrating solely on it. Then she opened them again, but she was still facing a stone wall. “No such luck,” she sighed, resting her hands against the cool rock surface. “I had a feeling that wouldn’t work.”
Legion had watched her carefully the whole time. Naole chuckled as he went through a silent pantomime: closing his eyes, squinting in concentration, then looking at the wall and letting his shoulders slump.
“Hmm.” An idea sparked in Naole’s brain. “Legion, do you understand what we need?” Pressing her fingertip to the rock, she traced it up and down in the general shape of the door. Repeating it several times, she raised her eyebrows at Legion. “The doorway. You saw it, didn’t you? That’s what we need.”
Once again, the hybrid repeated her actions exactly… but this time the wall melted away, revealing the rainy darkness of Tasakeru Forest.
Naole shouted aloud with delight, throwing caution to the winds. She rushed outside, threw her arms wide, and stood grinning ear to ear in the downpour. Free! Her thoughts were giddy; the rain felt like a blessing from Terra herself. I’m free! It’ll be okay… and it’s all thanks to him… Laughing, she watched as Legion followed her out the doorway, staring up at the falling rain with an expression of shock. He got used to it quickly enough, and soon he was standing beside her once more.
The squirrel looked back, expecting to see a cave entrance closing in on itself. She very nearly swallowed her tongue in surprise; they were outside of not a cave, but a massive black stone tower that rose high enough to break through the low-hanging clouds overhead… Stranger still, the entire exterior of the tower was overgrown with what appeared to be black roses.
“It’s only a cave on the inside?” muttered Naole to herself. As she watched, the doorway shrank back into smooth black stone. Thorny vines moved to cover the hole, twisting themselves into a thickly woven blanket of greenery. In mere seconds, buds began to form in even spaces among the morass, and moments later those buds swelled and burst into full bloom.
Naole shrugged and turned back to her new friend. “Whatever, I don’t care how it’s doing that!” She laughed as Legion playfully imitated her shrug. “We need to get out of this storm, find shelter. I know we’re in Tasakeru Forest, so Onii-chan’s home must be somewhere around! Come on!”
Naole Takaichi ran off laughing into the rain, with the bizarre new creature called Legion following close behind. The oppressive black tower continued its silent vigil over the forest, an ominous dark blemish amidst a sea of green.
END OF CHAPTER 4
Author’s Note: I apologize to all my readers for making you wait so long between updates. I’m trying as hard as I can to finish the fifth and final chapter by the end of the year… Thank you for your patience! – BHS
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