The next few days had been unbearably dull, each one bleeding into the next with a monotonous grey sameness. The camp, usually a chaotic combination of rough banter, clattering weapons, and the heavy tread of Krag boots, now felt eerily quiet and abandoned. From what Varga had told him, Arieus had taken the bulk of the warriors on another raid into the Evil Forest, leaving only a skeleton crew behind to maintain.
The absence of so many people made the camp feel... hollow.
Yet, Femi found a small measure of relief in their absence. The quiet, however unnerving, at least gave him time to think without interruption. Varga's words about him possibly having Kuros had been gnawing at the edges of his mind. But the more he turned it over, examining it from every angle, the less likely it seemed.
From current information gotten, kuros was a gift for those born of this world, and Femi knew with absolute, unshakable certainty that he wasn't. He still held his memories of his old life, so he was sure there was no lineage tying him to such strange, wild magic. Frustrated, he mentally shelved the thought for now.
With little else to occupy his time, Femi busied himself with mundane chores. He collected the scrawny, rabbits from his snares, spent hours meticulously sharpening his one remaining knife and painstakingly mended his clothing with his still clumsy unskilled stitches.While doing all this he was reminded of were he was by the cold, which biting presence, seeped through his furs to eat at his fingers as he worked.
Varga had told him, during one of their exchanges, that this bitter cold was merely a prelude; it would last until the true cold season arrived, basically winter as if the current, soul-crushing freezing temperatures weren't already unbearable enough. Femi shivered violently as he worked, the thought of it getting even colder a terrifying prospect.
She had also mentioned, that once the winter passed, this particular part of the White Wild, 'a name that made far too much sense to him now' would undergo a dramatic transformation. Because of its closeness to the warmer south, the land would eventually thaw and lush, vibrant greenery would burst forth, turning the frozen wasteland into something almost unrecognizable.
Femi found it hard to imagine this damned place ever being warm, let alone green. Right now, it felt like the cold had seeped into his bones and decided to take up permanent residence.
With a sigh, Femi returned his focus to sharpening his knife, the rhythmic, grating scrape-scrape-scrape of blade against stone filling the quiet. The sound wasn't exactly pleasant but a man must find time to sharpen his knife.
As he worked, his mind couldn't help but wander to thoughts of his lost axe, and a fresh wave of frustration bubbled up all over again.
Why did it have to be the axe? Of all things to lose to that beast. He scowled at the memory.
"That lousy, good-for-nothing bear," he grumbled to the empty forest. He cursed the bear's ancestors, and its unborn generations.
He still hadn't gotten a new axe, despite the large pile of spares he'd seen lying near the make shift armory. Varga kept insisting with infuriating vagueness that he wait, which made absolutely no sense to him.
Why wait? There were plenty of smaller, serviceable axes available, and he desperately needed one. It made no sense. If he had his axe now, maybe he'd feel less like a potential victim and more like someone who could actually defend himself.
But he had still listened, sighing once more as he muttered under his breath, "I wonder what truly goes on in that coconut head of hers. What grand plan requires me to be unarmed?"
His round ears twitched in irritation as he dragged the knife across the whetstone one last time, testing the newly honed edge carefully with his thumb.
"Yippp... yipp!"
The sudden, noise snapped Femi out of his thoughts leading him to almost cut off his fingers. Victim, the small, furry menace he'd reluctantly took in was yipping at him with exaggerated desperation, its wide, pleading eyes locked onto the rabbit carcass lying at Femi's side.
"My friend, behave yourself," Femi chided, shaking his head in exasperation. "Have I not already fed you this morning?"
"Mmmyyu!" Victim whined, tilting its head and putting on the most pitiful, expression imaginable, like a starving, homeless, injured orphan left to perish in the cruel snow.
Femi scoffed, utterly unmoved by the performance. "Look at you. Someone should give you an award for best actor. With your mouth as wide as whale! Get out of here before I decide to kick you!" He lifted his foot in a half-hearted, but Victim ducked under it effortlessly, its movement causing Femi to lose his balance. His arms flailed as he toppled backward, landing with a soft thump on the snow-covered ground, the rabbit slipping from his grip.
"This dog has killed me oo!" Femi groaned, clutching his lower back where a dull ache was already forming. But Victim, utterly unbothered, trotted over and began enthusiastically licking femi furry face, pausing only to take a quick, triumphant bite of the fallen rabbit.
Femi's ears twitched in annoyance, but he soon surrendered to the relentless, slobbery tongue baths with a resigned sigh. "I must be getting truly and profoundly bored if I'm spending my days arguing with this tiny, four-legged thief."
His mind drifted back to when he'd gone to look for Victim after Arieus had left. The small wolf pup had been hiding just outside the camp, near the closest snare line, guiltlessly devouring on a trapped rabbit corpse. When Femi had approached, Victim had yipped excitedly, pawed at his feet, and then leaped into his arms.
"Ah, so that's where you disappeared to, you little thief," Femi had said, as a genuine wave of relief softened his voice as he held the squirming pup. "Good dog. I knew you were too stubborn to die of hunger."
Now, back in the present, Femi pushed himself up from the snow with another sigh, brushing the white powder from his furs. He picked up the half-eaten rabbit, stuffing what remained into his pack for Victim's dinner later. As he trudged back toward the camp, his thoughts turned to the chores that awaited.
When I get back, I have to skin this, then tan the fur. Another thrilling, uninteresting day in paradise.
For once, he was so bored he actually wished for something, anything interesting to happen, like garri falling from the heavens, or a pot of egusi soup appearing out of nowhere, Or his favorite... Wait, what was his favorite food again?
But, before he could recall, a deafening CRACK split the air, shattering the calm.
Femi flinched, every strand of his fur standing on end. The sound of splintering wood echoed violently through the trees, followed immediately by panicked, loud shouts from the Krags inside the camp. His ears swiveled toward the source of the noise, his pulse quickening to a frantic beat in his chest. That doesn't sound good.
This was not what I wanted when I asked for something interesting! Why not garri? Why must it always be violence? This can only be the work of my village people, I swear! Even in this strange world, they can never stop their wicked ways!
Cursing under his breath, Femi abandoned his slow trudge and hurried toward the camp's main entrance, Victim trotting alertly beside him, its ears also perked. His concern deepened into alarm when he realized the chaos wasn't outside the walls, it was coming from inside the camp.
As he neared the gate, he spotted the source of the terrible sound, a massive, hole had been torn into the thick log fence that surrounded the settlement, splinters and shards of wood littering the bloody snow around it.
"O boy, na Hulk burst this fence?" Femi muttered in disbelief, eyeing the violently splintered wood.
"Ahhh"
"Come on you bastards"
Femi listened to the roars of fighting on the other side, while refusing to look through the hole in case he sees something unholy.
No guards stood at their usual posts at the entrance; whatever was happening inside was bad enough to draw them all into the fray. Femi hesitated, his every survival instinct screaming at him to turn back, to take his chances in the forest. He glanced down at Victim, who also seemed suddenly reluctant to enter the chaos, whining softly.
"Agreement reached," Femi muttered, deciding it absolutely wasn't worth it. "We go back to the forest. Safety first."
But just as he was about to turn and disappear into the now far more welcoming and less frightening tree line, Varga's commanding voice cut through the chaotic soundss reaching him clearly from some were In the camp.
"Get into formation! Don't panic!"
Her tone was sharp, decisive. Well it seems she seems to have everything under control. Plus what could I even do to help? I have one knife.
Then, a bone-chilling, alien screech tore through the air.
Femi's fur bristled anew.
A scream followed, cut short abruptly. Then he saw something that would, help was quite sure fuel a new and terrible type of nightmare.
A green arm, severed cleanly at the shoulder, went spinning through the air, landing in the snow near him with a wet, sickening thud. Blood pulsed from the severed limb, instantly staining the white snow crimson.
Femi's breath hitched, as he saw something else, larger, soared overhead, slamming into the trunk of a tree behind him with a sickening crunch.
Against his better judgment, Femi turned to look.
A Krag's almost lifeless face stared back at him from where it was embedded in the bark, pure anguish written on it. With a look Femi was sure, the warrior wasn't going to survive, because the lower half of his body was gone.
Not good. Not good at all. Something terrible is inside there and I need to be as far away from it as possible. Femi tried to move, but.. they refused to obey.
They wouldn't budge.
"Don't tell me you've died of fear, you useless legs!" he berated himself. "Don't betray me now! Move!"
A weak, wet groan drew his attention back to the dying Krag. The Krag gasped, blood bubbling thickly at his lips.
"Help," the Krag groaned desperately between gurgling breaths.
Femi was pretty sure this man was a dead man walking, or rather, a dead man not walking. He wasn't a juju priest; he couldn't perform a miracle for him. There was no help to give.
"H-help… the camp… is under attack… the..." The Krag was unable to finish his final words as his eyes glazed over into vacant stillness, his last breath leaving him in a faint mist as he stared toward the camp, as if wanting to will hisself to stand and fight one last time.
Inside, the battle raged on, shouts of fury and pain, the metallic clash, and the occasional screech of those…. Femi's instincts warred with a strange, unwelcome pull toward the camp
Femi could hear several warriors swear or shout in surprise and pain. He couldn't help but shoot a longing glance toward the welcoming forest that seemed to stretch out her dark, safe arms to embrace him, to offer him safety.
Unfortunately, he heard her again.
"I'll hold it off! The rest of you, FORM UP! NOW!"
Femi froze, one foot hovering over the forest's peaceful threshold. What was he going to do? What could he do? But before he could decide, Victim growled, a low, fierce rumble in its small chest, its hackles raised. It started yipping defiantly at the camp, as if ready to charge foolishly into battle.
"So you want to gamble your life and become an actual victim today, eh?" Femi said to the pup. "This stupid, dog."
Yet, even as he said the words, before he could consciously stop himself, Femi was already running toward the entrance, his damned feet finally obeying a command he hadn't given, with Victim running at his side.
"Damnit! This dog is leading me straight to my death, and I'm foolishly following!" Femi cursed his own stupidity as they reached the entrance just in time to witness the full nightmare unfolding inside.
Of course my enemies can not carry last in their hate for me. Femi thoughts could barely comprehend the nonsense in front of him.
"What in the world...?"
His eyes widened in sheer, horror as his gaze finally landed upon the bizarre creature at the center of the chaos. It was a creature straight out of a fever dream, a blasphemous fusion of parts that should never belong together: an overgrown chicken with a pale, eerily feminine human face. It seemed like a demonic aberration, and for a moment, he truly began to question his own sanity.
The creature's vast wingspan stretched wide, beating the air to create gusts of wind. It's demonic stare seemed to be sent involuntary shivers down Femi spine.
The abomination was taller than a man, its body covered in flowing, unnaturally white feathers. Its face was eerily, feminine, with high cheekbones and lips that were pulled back in a snarl to reveal a maw full of sharp, needle-like fangs.
The most terrifying thing about the creature in front of him was the dawning realization...
It wasn't alone.
Twenty two versions of this horrors darted and weaved through the camp, tearing into the disorganized Krags with terrifying speed. The Krags, though they had the number advantage, fought back in scattered, loose defensive circles, trying desperately to keep their backs safe from the blindingly fast attacks, but the creatures were simply too fast. They evaded axe swings with ease, skipped over slashing blades, and lunged for exposed throats, sides, and even.... private parts.
"ARCHERS! FIRE AT WILL! AIM FOR THEIR WINGS!" Varga bellowed.
Femi's gaze snapped towards the direction of her voice, and he saw her. She was isolated, fighting one of the larger creatures on her own. Her blade was a blur, slicing through the air, but each swing met only empty air or was deflected by a hook like claw on the wings tip. Behind her, a small group of krags were surrounded, forcing them to use their spears to keep the three at bay.
A handful of archers fired arrows from a makeshift barricade, and the creatures danced back avoiding the attack.
Despite her skill, she was struggling. This things were fast, dodging her powerful swings with, gliding grace, this went on for a moment, as she circled it while staring around. Suddenly she took a step forward swinging her blade. It finally connected, her blade slicing a deep cut across one of the creature's wings. It let out a piercing, pained screech as it hopped back, favoring the injury.
Femi could see her eyes glowing like fierce lanterns in the dark, as she was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. He couldn't understand why she was having so much trouble with this one, given all the incredible feats he had seen her perform before.
Then, in a flash of understanding, Femi saw why.
Another creature, seeing the kin injured, lunged at Varga from her blind side. She sensed it at the last second, twisting her body with incredible reflexes to barely avoid its raking talons, while simultaneously bringing her blade around in a wide, defensive slash that forced it to retreat. The effort of fighting two opponents, of defending the vulnerable group behind her, left her visibly panting, the strain evident on her face.
These things weren't just mindless beasts, This one seemed to be trying to distract her, to tire her out, while the other looked for an opening. Despite her best efforts, she was struggling just to hold them off, unable to land a killing blow.
"Things are not looking good for this camp at all," Femi thought grimly.
As he frantically thought about how he could possibly help her without immediately dying himself, a sudden, cold sense of imminent danger swept over him. His head turned slowly. One of the creatures, smaller than the one Varga was fighting had broken away from the main skirmish and spotted him standing there. Its glowing red eyes locked onto his, and it blinked slowly.
Femi took an involuntary step back. Victim, sensing the threat, growled ferociously, trying to scare the much larger beast off. The abomination ignored the pup completely, its focus entirely on Femi as it began to creep closer. Its horrible mouth opened wide, revealing those rows of needle-sharp teeth, and it cocked its head from side to side.
Femi's heart hammered against his ribs as the creature closed the distance, its unnerving, intelligent eyes fixed unblinkingly on him.
He gripped his only weapon tightly, the knife shaking slightly in his hand "Stay back!" he warned. "I swear I'll cut you down if you come any closer!
The creature continued its slow, deliberate approach, its gaze fixed on him. Femi's instincts screamed at him to turn and run, but he knew that would be a fatal mistake. Instead, he backed away slowly, his eyes locked on the creature.
"I mean it!" Femi warned again, his voice rising in pitch, laced with undisguised fear. "Stay back! Don't tempt me, or I'll...I'll seriously assault you with this knife! You juju chicken! You dirty, unwanted spirit from hell!" Femi's backpedaling slowed as he searched for an escape route or a place to get an advantage. The creature's unnerving, hypocritic gaze seemed to bore into his very soul.
Panic truly set in as Femi realized that he was in trouble; his only ally was a puppy smaller than him. The monstrosity in front of him continued to close in, its eyes fixed on him, its head tilting again. For a split second, its eyes flickered down to the small, pitiful knife in his hand, and in that moment, Femi's thoughts went straight to the axe he had lost.
"Oh my axe, if only you were here now," Femi more than ever lamented over his lost axe.
But things were only getting worse, because at that precise moment, he remembered why the Krags and Varga were truly having so much trouble with these creatures.
He heard the sound of beating wings at the very last moment, a rush of air from above, but thankfully his body, keyed up on pure adrenaline, was already moving to duck and roll. The second creature swooped down from the sky, its sharp talons raking the empty air where his head had been just a heartbeat before.
"Ah, so you can actually fly?!" he yelled up at them in shocked disbelief as he scrambled back to his feet. "But aren't you a chicken?!"
The other identical creature, having missed its surprise attack, landed gracefully and silently on the snow, moving instantly to flank him, positioning itself behind him. Femi's heart sank in his chest as he realized he was completely trapped, caught in a pincer movement between two nightmarish predators.
"No, no, no, no," he muttered, his mind racing with a desperation that bordered on delirium. This was it.
The creatures began their slow, deliberate, circling movements once more, seeming to savor his obvious fear, and Femi knew with chilling certainty that he had to think of something and he had to think of it fast, if he wanted to survive the next few seconds.
"Truly," he thought, a bizarre calm settling over him amidst the terror, "my enemies have set me up."