Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Travel

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“Dhanur? Dhanur,” Janurana called.

Dhanur woke suddenly. She hopped off Dekha and drew her utility knife. But nothing was attacking so her excitement faded as quickly as it started.

“Huh, yeah. What?” She sheathed her weapon, rubbed her eyes, and strolled forward. “Y-you stayed on this road, right? No turns or—”

Before she could finish her thought her collar was snagged tight around her neck. When Dhanur jerked forward, as if she was caught on a branch, she realized it was Janurana holding her with white knuckles.

 “Oh, dark!” At the same time Dhanur noticed her right foot hadn’t made contact with the ground. “What the…”

“No turns,” Janurana said.

As Dhanur’s eyes adjusted, she groggily realized that there was nothing in front of her. Nothing blocking the road, because the road was gone. The stone bridge that should have been spanning the gorge before them was nowhere to be seen. Janurana pulled on Dhanur’s collar, causing her to stumble back into the dirt.

“Ur—!” She was about to erupt, then remembered she was in the Outside and pouted, settling for a more contained, “wonderful. Stupid, ugh, northerners. Blocking even the side roads now.”

“Aren’t you from the north?” Janurana asked.

“No? I’m just northern. Doesn’t mean I live there.”

As Dhanur rubbed her head, messing up her hair and hood, Janurana sauntered forward and bent stiffly at the hip to peer straight down into the canyon. She could have sworn she saw a few broken support posts from the bridge, but the thought they may have only been rocks.

“Is this the only way?” she asked.

“The only way I thought’d be open.” Dhanur flopped back into the dirt, dejected. “The other Light lost roads up north have been cut off too, thought a little one like this might’ve been left alone. Probably shouldn’t, ugh, put up camp and wait now with your mother around.”

“True,” Janurana relented, peeking down the canyon. She wrung her hands on her parasol, knowing she could make the jump but not Dhanur. She could carry her companion, but decided it wasn’t the best time to be honest. “Can we not find a way down and across?”

“Search for a gentle slope down a cliff?” Dhanur scoffed. “Outside, at night, having to put Dekha away, maybe just free clim—”

“Uh huh.” Janurana rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, gimme a minute to think.” Dhanur hauled herself from the ground and hobbled to Dekha, fumbling to retrieve her bow and quiver as her head and stomach continued to hurt. “Not as many imps and stuff as I thought.”

“They usually stay quiet or flee when my mother approaches.” 

Dhanur fiddled with her bow’s grip. Having rearmed herself, she plopped back down to think.

Janurana still didn’t have an answer herself. Taking Dhanur’s lead, she made for Dekha as well, looking to take up her ax. As she put the parasol into the bags, she paused and looked over the familiar notches on its handle. It didn’t have a single patch or crack, unlike her sari. If anything, it just looked used, a bit faded in one spot and a bit worn at another, but that gave it character. Even the lack of adornments on the tips, which Janurana had broken off the night she fled home to keep quiet, looked like it had been built that way after so long. After all the years in the wilderness, so many she had lost count, it had been spared the tarnish and radiated so much noble comfort. 

Janurana snatched it back up, squeezed, then slid it into her waist and tightened the wraps. With a deep breath she picked up the ax, spun it, appreciating its substance and smiled at the sound it made flying through the air. Chuckling, she clutched it tight. It was also a worrisome feeling, that she might need it sooner than she thought, but the power was indeed intoxicating.

Dhanur peeked over Dekha, slightly shaking her head and mouthing “what”. Janurana responded by snapping the ax behind her with a secretive chuckle. 

Janurana’s back seized.

She spun around, but the canyon was behind her. Janurana didn’t see the pale blue of her mother on the opposite side and knew that even she wouldn’t have had time to make it across by then. 

Again, her back seized.

She turned and only saw Dekha standing still. 

Janurana pulled the ax from behind her and her back calmed. She stared at her weapon, lost in thought, trying to piece together any memory she might have associated with anything like it. But her mind was still blank. There was no possible half remembered moment of a spearman she had met or a woodworker with a larger custom ax whom she had to eat or starve. She tapped her head, padding her wild hair, but still no memory came.

She wanted to ask Dhanur about it to see if some detail would jog her memory. Janurana opened her mouth to do so but stopped. The power it gave her still radiated through her arms.

‘Better to hit an imp with an ax than your fists. If it makes me seize up then that keeps me focused. Don’t look too far into it. You blocked it out for a reason,’ Janurana thought.

Dhanur was focused on coming up with a plan as quickly as she could, mulling over the possibility of doubling back, walking up or down the canyon, or maybe seeing if there were vines to climb down.

The forest was still silent.

Janurana left Dhanur to think and strolled to the cliff’s edge to stare into the sky. The moon swirled and clouds were blotching out whatever stars poked out behind it. Her stationary feet grew restless. 

But Janurana also didn’t feel her back seize, and knew Dekha would let her know if anything other than her mother was about to attack. She settled on simply staying alert, watching the surrounding darkness. Her mind raced. All the rationalizations were pointless as she kept absentmindedly taking a step forward to keep moving, and lurching back from the canyon. Her back twitched, and she took her eyes off the trees and brush.

She peeked over the edge of the gorge to watch the rapids below and see the foam spraying into the air. While the intangible outlines of the Outside made it harder to tell what was what for most, Janurana’s more powerful night vision let her see near twenty cart lengths away with general clarity. The spray was white and contrasted well with the black water. There were even vines crawling up the cliff faces. They snaked along between crags for an anchor, but extended tendrils outwards to snatch any light they could.

‘Dekha will let us know,’ Janurana thought to herself, spinning the ax in her hand.

She watched the water splash between the rocks jutting out of the river, definitively seeing one was a pile of stones from the bridge. 

“A fish!” Janurana exclaimed, softly.

Dhanur snapped up, drawing her bow and aiming behind them. She scanned the forest edge before noticing Dekha was still. “What?” She put the arrow back.

“Uh. Mmn. Sorry. I saw a fish.”

“… Alright,” Dhanur groaned. She rolled her eyes. “Great. Lost my idea. Thanks.”

Janurana silently sucked her teeth as Dhanur slunk back to the ground and lost herself in thought again. 

Another fish leapt from the water, glistening just enough to make itself seen. Once Janurana had seen one, the others came to view. Each burst from the river with a cascade of shimmering samite. Their silken bodies wiggled uselessly as if they still swam beneath the surface.

Dekha blared the alarm. His eyes shone into the forest illuminating two ragged men strolling forward.

“See? Told you more people’d take the side roads now!” exclaimed one pointing at the pair with a small wood worker’s ax. His and his comrade’s eyes glowed a bright, unnatural yellow like Dekha’s, the only sign they weren’t human. They were unaffected by his light. 

“Shut up, you promised no ‘I told you’s’,” the other replied, his own ax resting on his shoulder.

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Dhanur had already shot to her feet, an arrow notched, but her head was screaming as Dekha’s alarm continued so aiming was impossible.

“Dekha! Just point them out!” she yelled over him.

His alarm immediately stopped, and his eyes swiveled, locking onto both of them. Dhanur trained her arrow on the man sprinting towards Janurana, who was spinning her ax in preparation. Dhanur loosed the shot. It thunked into his chest, but he only paused. 

“Ugh. Stupid body.” He ripped the arrow out. Blood sprayed from his wound and splattered onto Janurana’s face, making her eyes go wide.

“Oh, great. vetalas. Janu—” Dhanur sighed and she took aim again but Janurana and the vetala had already clashed horns. Janurana’s ax came down in a full overhead swing. Its speed caught her opponent off guard and he instinctively raised his ax. The weight of her strike smashed his weapon from his hand and he bent forward with it. Janurana capitalized, bringing her ax up in a frantic upward swing. Her opponent barely dodged. He held out his hand and his ax flew back to him. The handle caught Janurana in the knee but she only stumbled slightly and was on him instantly as the ax flew back to its master.

Dhanur was dumbfounded at Janurana’s ferocity and was nearly blind–sided by the other vetala. He flung his ax towards Dhanur’s head. She could barely side step in time before hopping back to get more distance and aim.

“Ain’t dealing with that psycho!” His ax flew to his outstretched hand as well, nearly transparent puppet strings glinting in the moonlight. He leapt over Dekha who backed up to keep his eyes on both targets. Right before he landed, Dhanur loosed an arrow into her attacker’s leg with her eyes focused in a calm gaze.

“Janurana!” Dhanur called with no care to her opponent. “They’re vetalas. You’ll have to do the smashing!”

“Yeah! Bellow your battle plan across the whole plateau!” Guffawed the attacker. He barely noticed his own wound as Dhanur bobbed and weaved to dodge his incoming attacks. She had no trouble fluidly avoiding him, much to his rage. Rather than engage him head to head, she offered occasional strikes with the spikes on either end of her bow to the leg she’d already struck. All the while her breathing was mechanical and controlled, as if even her own actions weren’t affecting her.

But her head and stomach decided then was the perfect time to lodge another complaint. Dhanur stumbled as she hopped back, dizzy, and grabbed her head before she dry heaved. It only cost her a second before she forced herself to focus. Still, it was all her attacker needed. He closed the distance and swung with every ounce of his might at Dhanur’s bow arm. She started to dodge, but the ax glanced off her scaled armor, scraping the bit of leather sticking out from her sleeve, and lodged itself in her left arm.

Dhanur’s scream ripped from her throat, a bloody cry that made even her opponent take a step back.

He laughed, twirled his ax to whip off the blood, and was then sent tumbling as Dekha charged into him with all his might. The decrepit bull placed himself between the vetala and his master, digging his hoof in the dirt and presenting his horns, daring the one who hurt his master to try again. His light was solely focused on Dhanur’s enemy.

“Dhanur??” Janurana yelled. She sent her opponent hopping back after failing to connect a swing.

“Focus!” Dhanur grabbed her arm, shrieked at the pain, and tossed her bow to her draw hand. “Dekha! Just lights! Janurana needs you too!”

Reluctantly, Dekha snorted and stepped back, swiveling one eye back to Janurana.

It illuminated her enemy leaping forward with a massive overhead swing of his own. Janurana blocked it and she focused on her fight. She brought her foot up and slammed it into the vetala’s stomach. As he was pushed back, another spurt of blood came out of his chest, landing on her face. Her pupils dilated further at the smell and she ran at her adversary. The excitement of battle, the smell of blood, they consumed her as much as it would a starving tiger.

She swung her ax at the dodging vetala with nigh animalistic abandon over and over. Each stumbling dodge her opponent made away from the mad woman only brought her more ferocity. With each strike she ground her teeth even more. With each strike her hands tightened around the ax’s leather. With each strike the grunt from behind her teeth grew in pitch, in frustration, in demanding that he “just die already”.

The attacker collapsed under her onslaught. Janurana’s ax fell directly onto his shoulder, cleaving down into his chest, and into the heart. Her opponent fell to the ground, squelching as blood poured from his cloven torso, and its metallic scent struck Janurana like an arrow. She let out a ragged moan. The thrill of the first bite after a stalking hunt was nothing like the blood after a fight. 

The vetala stirred under her ax and the scuffles of Dhanur’s duel reminded her there was a job to finish. She stomped onto his chest to hold the body in place as she ripped the ax from him, then brought it down on his twitching remains again and again until the blade met nothing more than bloody mud and offal. Janurana didn’t even notice the wisp of the puppeteer rising from the pile which used to be a body.

“Come on you stupid piece of flesh!” Dhanur’s opponent screamed at his own shredded calf. Dhanur, focused on her breathing, only needed to place her bow against his chest and gently push so he fell to the ground. She stood over him as Janurana’s ax toting frame came into his view. “No. No, no please, I don’t wanna find another bod-”

Dhanur bounced her arm, sliding her bow onto her shoulder then reached down to retrieve her arrow from the attacker’s leg. She moved her hand like lightning as Janurana had eyes only for her prey. Stepping back, Dhanur whipped off some of the blood before wiping her arrow on a rag from Dekha’s bags which she quickly discarded, and put it back into her quiver. Janurana’s ax came down again and again with loud, squelchy crunches.

Janurana relished in the blood's smell and the warmth of her kill, tendrils of steam rising into the cool night. Wet mounds gave way to her blade with no effort at all. Her chest rose and fell with desire for the feast. She used her ax as a utensil, moving shredded organs around, flipping them over, watching them slide against each other as the sound of their wetness grew louder in her ears. Humans that deserved to die were a rare treat for Janurana in the wilderness. She was still sated from her hunt in the city, but the thrill of the fight whet her appetite.

“You, uh, ok?” Dhanur asked warily, putting a hand on Janurana’s shoulder who started with a gasp. “He’s pretty dead.”

“I-I-I know,” Janurana stuttered for an excuse.

Dhanur noticed how Janurana couldn’t keep her eyes off the blood.

“I know you’ve been out here for a bit, but was this your, um, first? Ya know, person?” Dhanur’s mouth quivered and puckered and her hand twitched on Janurana’s shoulder.

“Um.” A few possible responses ran through Janurana’s mind before she replied, “y-yes. Yes.”

“It’s not uncommon for people to get very, ah, passionate on their first kill, vetala or not. You’re not evil. Not a monster. You were only defending yourself.” Dhanur’s hand fluctuated between a reserved rubbing and tepid tapping. Neither felt like the correct or personally comfortable choice. “You’re fine.”

“M-my first time, uh, with the ax,” Janurana chuckled, allowing the truth of her statement to add to the faked comedy. Dhanur withdrew her hand, snickered, then flinched. “Your arm!” Janurana remembered.

Dhanur shooed her off, causing Janurana to scowl at the rudeness. But she was thankful as it meant she could stay away from the wound. Dhanur beckoned Dekha, who trotted over and shined his eyes over her arm as she tapped it. The wound wasn’t as bad as it first felt. She was about to slap it, but mimed the hit instead.

“Light lost body. Get used to pain again.” Dhanur summoned up the courage with one more practice hit before smacking her shoulder and winced, but sucked it up as Janurana recoiled. Dhanur silently thanked the Rays it was vetalas. “Bunch’a corpses. Buried axes. Could've been way worse,” she mumbled to herself. Any weapons they had would have been buried with the corpse they puppeteered, or whatever they found abandoned. 

Dhanur took a bandage from Dekha’s bags and laboriously wrapped her wound with one hand. Even though it was as tight as she could make it, pricks of blood still soaked through. 

“I’ll get this all for you so ya don’t have to dirty your hands,” Dhanur said as she rolled her shoulder, hissing through the pain. It made her dizzy, but she didn’t make that known. “You just… Yeah. Go take a minute.” Dhanur nodded backwards for Janurana to step aside. 

She got another bandage knelt down, scooping up as many intact body parts as she could. She carried them in the bandage to get as little blood on her as possible and pitched them over the cliff. 

Janurana went to Dekha. She hummed loudly to keep from hearing the squelching of the blood. When Dhanur told her to be quiet, she knelt to stare into Dekha’s eyes to keep from looking at or even envisioning the flesh. There was still the faintest reflection on their surface, showing Dhanur recoiling at the organ’s stench. Janurana fiddled with her hair as if she could see it to distract herself from the blood on her ax. 

“Oh, right. It’s in the dirt,” Dhanur growled as she finished, realizing that alone might still attract unwanted attention. She dug her palm into her forehead. “A rompo’s gonna smell this. Great. And the rag. And the bandage. Ugh. Should have just gone into the trees.”

“I can clean it up!” Janurana snapped around and fetched the rag Dhanur had thrown away. “We must find a way to cross. They will come for this first, yes? More blood than on you. You got hurt! Are you okay? Of course you aren’t. Shoo. I’ll handle this, you rest your arm. Is it bad?”

“I’m fine.” Dhanur leaned back. “Don’t want you fighting a corpse feeder alone.”

“Shush shush. They’re scavengers, yes? I can scare them off, like a vulture. You just look for a way down.”

“But—”

“Good good. Shoo shoo.”

“Ugh. Alright. Do your thing.” Dhanur grimaced but left well enough alone.

‘Whatever, it’s her first Human shaped kill,’ she thought.

‘Let’s keep telling ourselves that,’ her inner voice spoke up.

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