Chapter 24: Truth

The goo of the slime buries my surroundings as the other slimes roll at me. A glow of blue-green emanates from a crevice further down the cave spiking my curiosity, so I resolve these creatures destruction for further venture.

I need to think less and do more. By giving my actions direction, I enable more options and opportunity in my future, and my own ambitions remain unclear. The lack of prioritization leaves me vulnerable and unfocused as I scramble without purpose.

So I shall become a bastion of fortitude. The vast majority of my problems arise from my own lack of discipline, and I set my own trials and tribulations upon myself. With a simple change in my own thoughts, I empower my own progress.

I clang my fists together oppressing the air with a dull smack echoing through the caves corridors. As I use my echolocation to sense the changes the sound makes, several slimes appear before me.

Dashing towards a straggler among the back, I slam my feet into the rock pivoting the momentum through my upper body into my right arm with my claws outstretched. As my talons reach the goop's exterior, my hand faces surprising resistance despite the sharpness of my weapons.

I rip through a portion of the monsters thick, flexible outer membrane spewing the gunk lying within like a sick person sneezing. The mucus sprays on me as the glob maintains its previous attack.

The dense body slams into me forcing my body through the air as if I slammed into a concrete wall. I lose all sense of direction as my body flails around in the air. As I land, my face crashes into the stone underneath me injecting pain and disorientation that radiates from the point of impact on my skull.

I roll over standing on my feet as I lift myself. My chest constricts as my heart rate rises. I underestimated these creatures heavily. As the creatures bodies shift, they create a shuffling sound I use for my echolocation, but I only generalize their locations as the sense only provides general estimates on moving targets.

During their approach, I retract my claws while I grit my teeth in pain as the blades pierce into my flesh. I then grow a sword of enamel from the bones in my hand. Deluge assists me while I do so, yet the blade ends at only three feet long.

After I ground my stance, a slime rolls with growing momentum from my right side. Right before he lands, I jump backwards then rapidly torque through my feet twisting my waist then launching my left fist against the slime's side.

My fist penetrates the tough outer membrane easily, but the creatures continues moving forward dragging my body behind it. The sharp ground scrapes and stabs my body before I pull myself upwards towards the slime. After I leave the grating ground, I launch my sword down from my right hand with all my might.

Yet the sword barely enters the slime penetrating a meager five inches. I jostle the blade driving the object into the creature as it slows. Once the sword enters a workable distance, I yank with controlled movements tearing the creatures outer lining while reducing the pressure within the creature that crushes my arm.

My limb loses blood flow as I do so. The compression becomes painful as I rip the calloused film on the outside of the creature.

The pressure dissipates rapidly as the contents of the slime squirt like an eruption of mucus. The scent of alcohol and sulfur explodes as the sack like being expels its innards. I tear my arm from the dying creature flying backwards as I dodge the brunt of the next creatures attack.

The slime still hits my right arm with such weight that the impact dislocates my shoulder while breaking several bones, and I whip around spinning my body and confusing me in the darkness. As I land on the ground, the momentum further mangles my arm sending pain like crackling lightning into my brain.

I roar with unhinging agony. The pain leaves me contorting on the ground while driving my face into the cool stone. No thoughts of survival enter my skull; pain is all that exists.

While I endure the torment, Deluge shoves my body from the conscious giving me momentary respite. He howls at his own sudden torture, and after several moments of recovery, I grit my teeth preparing myself for trails.

I shove his conscious from our body as the familiar suffering rends my psyche, yet before the earth shattering pain consumes me, I grasp my arm then jerk the limb into socket.

Deluge rapidly repairs the tendons as I writhe and squirm. For several endless moments, my right arm rends my very soul with torment. Deluge heals the breaks in my bone over this period abating the pain until I manage to compose myself.

I pound my feet against the stone running from the cavern. Thoughts of escape fill my head as genuine terror assails my mind. The horrors that dwell in this cave impose fear and pain immeasurably greater than even the reality of my parents death.

The smashing of my feet offers enough sound for my echolocation as my mind expands rapidly to utilize the new sense. The clanging of the creature grows behind me as I push my body with greater and greater will.

As I run and leap over ledges and crawl through the cavern, I gash my body against the hard stone, yet I feel no pain. My legs move themselves as only my echolocation offers me any sense of orientation, but the abhorrence shuffling behind me gives me an absolute and perfect understanding of where not to run.

The sound evolves into a squelching that sounds like flesh ripping. The panic of facing death overwhelms me. Foam grows from the edges of my mouth while I heave my chest for breath. The monstrosity clips a chunk of flesh from my shoulder before I push beyond my limits to escape.

My feet incomprehensibly scramble faster. The light of the cave’s entrance graces my eyes filling me with hope, but as soon as I approach within five feet of the entrance a tentacle wraps around my leg slamming my body's inertia into the rock floor.

The impact breaks several of my teeth and my nose, yet the sensation from my leg unnerves me greater than any pain.

A numbness radiates from my my feet. I turn backwards as the flailing body that approaches reveals itself under the light of the entrance.

Two tentacles with sharpened spikes at their ends pierce my legs injecting an unknown fluid into my body. My legs swell as the creatures bumpy membrane exposes an eight limbed creature with spines growing from each appendage.

The behemoth has thousands of hairs growing from its body that fidget every few seconds creating the image of a chaotic beast driven only by its senses. The sickly green color through its membrane shifts as though snot blends in a clear container.

The frontal tentacle of the creature opens revealing slimy tentacles that thrash in every direction. The head reaches my feet as each tentacle then touches my skin leaving a thick, congealing goop.

The tentacles penetrate my skin one at a time injecting more gunk under my skin until my legs burst revealing thousands of squirming, smooth worms smothered in blood.

Deluge says, “We have met our end.”

I boom, “NO. I WILL NOT DIE HERE. NOT LIKE THIS.”

As I say so, I lift the enamel sword then slice my left leg through the bone with immense strength that stems from my disgust.

An excruciating, torturous pain reaches up my leg, yet I meddle my might. I find the strength of my purpose. Life does not end here alone in this dark cavern eaten by this horror. I shall die surrounded by a family and friends who weep at my passing.

So I tear through the meat and bone of my leg gasping at the agony until the limb finally detaches. As the hacked leg enters the creature's mouth, I cleave at my other leg desperately tearing through my flesh and tendons for even one inch of distance between me and this creature.

Even though the anguish bludgeons my skull, I remain unbowed. Despite the inevitability of my death, I relentlessly cleave and slice hoping for my future. As I swing as if murdering the thunder that killed my parents, I saw off the appendage as the amputated leg enters the beast’s maw. The limb begins jerking as though endless pain permeates the appendage.

I shove my body backwards scraping skin from my hands as I do so. The creature's head then looks directly towards me with my amputated leg convulsing sporadically. The nightmare approaches me, so I scream as though deafening a banshee.

The intensity of the howl pauses the monster’s approach for a mere moment, and I turn around grating my hands against the rough stone tearing my fingernails from my hands while deforming my fingers, yet no pain no longer exists. Only fear.

I reach out of the cave turning as a single tentacle from the beast exits the entrance searching for my body. I lift my enamel sword cleaving the tentacle one swing at a time while using my remaining arm to clamp onto the creature.

The powerful movements of the monster jostle my body as though I were a doll of its machinations, but I continue my endless carving while gripping with untethered strength.

After several minutes, I tear the creatures tentacle from its body.

A gurgle mixes with the sound of breaking stone as the creature retreats into the depths of its abyss.

The tension saturating my body finally snaps as I throw up the contents of my stomach. The pungent stench of my own vomit clears my nostrils of the sent of blood and sulfur easing my disgust. I weep at my weakness while gagging over the visions the abomination gave me.

I pound my fist against the forest floor shouting at my own ineptness. I fidget at the overwhelming defeat. How can a being of such strength even exist? How can such entities roam this world?

After I have my self pity session, Deluge and I lay in silence as the birds of the forest continue their songs despite our experience. Several hours pass as Deluge regenerates my legs while I drift in a self degrading haze. My feet finally heal then I say,

“I’m sorry Deluge. I am a fool.”

“...”

“I don’t deserve to live if I throw my life away so easily.”

“...”

I say, “I have failed us with my own suggestions. I know nothing of this world, yet I speak of other people's cowardice.”

Deluge replies, “I gave in Jack. The creature did not kill you. Only me.”

“What do you mean? I suggested this idiocy earlier. You may not carry the brunt of that burden. It is mine alone”

“And you lived through it. I died. You lived.”

The hollow ringing in his voice silences me for a moment.

I say, “I Hacked our legs off. How does that justify my actions?”

“BECAUSE YOU WOULD HAVE SURVIVED.”

As he speaks, I cringe under the anger of his voice. I cringe at the anger of my friend. Each word I spout impales his conscious, so I quieten my own concerns then lift myself while saying,

“Well then let us go on living rather than wallowing in the regrets of our past.”

Deluge enhances my limbs wordlessly allowing for for freedom of movement. When I try contacting him, he hides himself deeper in his shame, so I give in to his silence and leave him alone.

I lift the tentacle I lopped from the beast hoping for its value in the future as the keepsake was hard fought.While I shake the atmosphere from myself, I run back to my dorm. While trekking through the forest, several varieties of food present themselves to me, so I consume as much sustenance as I find. My hunger grows in proportion to my injury, so strength fills me with each meal until I eventually return to my previous frame.

When I reach Mareovosa hours later, my clothes garner looks of apprehension and curiosity. They glare with open surprise. The sanctum of my dorm frees me from their stares.

As I reach my room, I close the door looking around the empty beds. With a releasing motion, I flop on my mattress immediately falling asleep.

----------------------------------

The sun greets me with its rays as I rise at the break of dawn. Stretching out the stiffness of my shoulders, I roll out of bed with my hands overhead yawning as I do so. I crick my neck while breathing deeply then look in the mirror to survey the damage.

My clothes tatter across my shoulders while dirt deeply embeds itself in the fibers of my outfit. The vest hangs loosely connecting to me by only one strap while my pants have become shorts.

My appearance may show strongly, but my smell radiates far more harshly. The odor of my clothes reeks of rotten eggs and blood. The red liquid grafts in large swipes throughout my outfit, yet I still have no blemish or imperfection on my skin.

The mass of my body also dramatically improved since my stay at Geralt’s mansion while my height is now at least 5’8.

As I move my arms, rippling muscles shift across my frame with some of them being noticeably abnormal. I liken my appearance to that of an 17 year old with oddly symmetrical deformities that make my bodies leverages better.

While Joan’s claims no longer seem unreasonable, the rapid shift in my body does worry me. The expectations placed on a man only grow as he ages, so those around me will no doubt do the same.

As I formulate my plan for the day, I call out for Deluge in my mind, but he sulks amid his own sadness ignorant of my calls. I walk out after donning clothes of gray and white making sure that each article is not only tough, but cheap as well since I don’t know when my next adventure may occur.

Focusing my thoughts, I approach the same gemchaining building hearing the familiar grunts and clangs of practice. While guilt and shame manifest within my chest, my self preservation instincts flare far greater spurring me onward.

I walk into the building were Petra instructs Joan with harsh criticisms at each of her mistakes. Joan sweats profusely as she rapidly reproduces a series of slashes at each vital point of the targeting dummy.

Her strikes wack with dull thuds rather than the sharp cracks of the past, so Petra shouts, “What the hell is wrong with you Joan? You’ve been fuckin everything up all day.”

Joan shakes her head glaring at the doll fiercely, “I am sorry Petra. I can do this.”

Petra says, “Then Fucking do it.”

Before she continues, Joan torques her feet and hips generating thunderous strikes with petrifying power like she wishes to kill the doll.

Petra says, “Now that’s more like it! Bring more of that and less of the shit you offered earlier.”

Joan replies stoically, “Yes mam.”

Sneaking through the room, I reach behind them both then say, “Hello there Petra. Do you know what animal this belongs to?”

As I brandish the tentacle, Petra jumps at my sudden appearance while Joan swings her dull wooden sword at me. I lift the appendage blocking her sword while Petra stiffens her shoulders saying, “How did you get that?”

I say, “I met one in a cave about two dozen miles from campus.”

Joan reddens as she looks at me, but I continue my gaze at Petra. I must prioritize my actions. I need to understand this foe.

Petra replies, “That is a piece of a tarantula slime boy. A beast no mere arrogant fuck could hope to survive against. Explain. Now.”

I say, “I saw one in a cave I explored. As I escaped, the creature tried grabbing me from outside the cavern, so I hacked the demonic brute’s limb off.”

Petra’s eyes widen as I explain while Joan drops her wooden sword. The ambiance completely changes as I ask, “What’s the problem?”

Petra says,”Y-y-you lived versus a tarantula slime alone?”

I say, “Yes. I just explained that.”

Petra says, “How did you escape?”

I say, “I ran.”

Petra replies, “What kind of idiot do you take me for? I have slain a tarantula slime before with a specialized team hired by the king. Every single elite soldier was slain besides me, and I only barely slew the beast using a intricate diamond gemchain I channeled for thirty minutes through runes.”

I say, “I only managed to collect one of its arms. I doubt such a feat is so surprising.”

Joan says, “Petra is the only person known to the kingdom to have ever slain a tarantula slime. You taking a limb is more than anyone else can say.”

I say, “Surely one of the golems Alastair constructs or an alchemist’s poison may deal with the beast?”

Petra says, “Only if they worked together to make a plan then executed it with a highly trained strike team.”

I say, “I just wanted to know what it was and how to escape if I ever see it again.”

Petra gestures towards me while walking towards a table in the center of the room littered with diagrams and blueprints for new weapons. The chairs creak under our weight as we sit, and the table owns enough scratches that the top looks like a flat, rugged rock.

Petra says after she sits down, “I’ll tell you a story about the horrors that dwell in caves. This is goin to take a while, so ready yourself.”

Joan and I settle ourselves in our chair then she begins her lesson.

“Gaia is the cardinal spirit that controls our world. Some say she lives within a cave so deep the ground radiates heat while the air crushes your lungs. I say it's bullshit, but either way.”

She shrugs her shoulders then continues, “Gaia is real. She is how we gemchain, and she controls this very world. She roots herself into every living thing until their very souls are mixed with her essence. It is through her blessing that we can use the souls of beasts for power.”

I say, “What does this have to do with caves?”

Petra says, “Everything. Her blessing grows as you dig deeper under the earth. Her presence grants power and energy into the lifeforms that would otherwise be meek and harmless. These creatures corrupt under her influence until they are colossal demons or leviathans swimming through the ocean.”

She takes a breath then continues, “So when you dig into a cave, the deeper you go, the scarier the monsters will be until you are fighting something so savage no human could hope to fight it.”

I say, “So why would we use and pray the power of such a corrupt being?”

“Because she gives life to all things. She allows our existence, and if you pray to her, she will give a chosen few the ability to use portions of her power that they earn through gems. That slab of tarantula slime could make a mighty fine golem, rune book, or enchantment if you used it well.”

Joan adds, “You could make a sword that can only be used by one person, or even make a book that can only tell the reader what he wants to hear.”

Petra says, “Or you could make a sword that gives the wearer skin like iron with several of them. Either way, you have something valuable here. Don’t take this lightly.”

I say, “Of course. I came here to ask this, but I also wanted to apologize for my rashness earlier. I lack discipline-”

Petra says, “I know all too well you spoiled, shit eating brat. You act like you’ve never even had to listen to anyone. Your parents must be ashamed.”

Joan’s eyes darken while I cringe over clenching my fists and gritting my teeth while Petra continues, “You got a lot of balls walking in here after what you did.”

Joan whispers, “Don’t talk about his parents. Please, Petra.”

Petra glares at her as though staring at an abomination of nature. Before Petra snaps at her further, Joan adds, “I just know that his parents are a tender subject. If you would please do this-”

Petra says, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Joan’s declaration crumbles under Petra’s question. Joan lowers her head staring at the floor avoiding Petra’s gaze. Joan replies, “He’s been through a lot.”

Petra stands up then kicks a stool across the room. The stool shatters then she says, “So that gives him the right to be a little cum-stain to everyone else?”

She looks me in the eyes then continues, “Do you? Do you think you're special because your parents died? Do you think this world will treat you different because of shit like that? NO. No one, and I mean no one, gives a fuck about you, your past, or the ‘suffering,’ you’ve been through.”

She slams the table, “They only care about what you can do. Both of my parents were eaten alive in front of me by a flesh viper. I saw there skin torn from their bodies before it sucked out their organs. I still hear their screams, but guess what?”

My anger fizzles faster than a campfire at the bottom of the ocean before she gestures towards me and continues,

“I persevere. I continue. I don’t expect a Gaiadamn thing from anyone. No angel came to help me. No family members gave me help. I crawled out of that abyss using my own to hands despite my circumstances...So can you too if you could get your head three inches out of your ass.”

The power and weight behind Petra’s story crush me like two walls closing together. I thought I was strong like iron. I know nothing. I’m just a child, yet as Petra speaks she also offers salvation.

I say, “I know I have you failed before.”

Petra smiles, “You won’t again. You aren’t getting the chance.”

I say, “I understand now Petra. I realize what you’ve done. I will change.”

She says, “What did I do?”

“You showed me that I see only a small portion of this world. With every word you paint a precise picture of my own ignorance. As one orphan to another I beg for your help. You offer redemption for my own shortcomings.”

Petra replies, “So now you want my help after getting your ass kicked by a tarantula slime? Is that it?”

I say, “I want you to save me from myself. As one who understands the trials of loneliness, I ask that you be the angel who uplifts me from my own plight. I ask you be the guardian for me that fate failed to grant you.”

She pauses for several seconds before replying with a look bordering revulsion, “I will give you one. More. Chance. If you even so much as question one of my orders, then I shall tear your fingers off. Do you understand?”

I reply, “Completely.”

She smiles cruelly,

“Then prepare yourself for a baptism brat.”