Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Progress Through Pancakes

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Day: 91 / Time: 10:00am–12:00pm

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Heaving his arms up, Artie jubilated and fell rearward onto the floor of their tent.

"That's enough for the day," he celebrated, articulating in the recently learned language that took two months to comprehend.

"Great, let's go train!" Sebastian exclaimed, casually flinging a book to the side and bouncing to his feet.

Nodding, Artie rose, pulled a warm coat from a hanger, and stepped out of the tent. Together, they strolled through the village, past tents, huts, and buildings, greeting and receiving smiles from the residents. Along the way, he recollected the past days, if only to remind himself it was real.

"Two months have passed in no time."

"It sucks that I haven't found dad yet. But I'm grateful Laria has been helping me ask around."

"Mayumi is as battle-hardened as always, spending hours each day hunting with the people of this town."

"Me and this weirdo have been together a lot since we're learning new weapons. Fighting with a glaive is demanding, but having a teacher has made all the difference."

"Com'on!" Encouraged Sebastian, flying ahead toward a flat, grassy domain inhabited by forty or more hunters.

"Alright," returned Artie, smiling and speeding along the man's trail.

"It's wild to think that all these people were human once. Seems as soon as they arrived here, their bodies mutated. As far as they could tell, they were speaking English while we were the ones talking nonsense. It's possible we're all just speaking entirely new languages, and English is gone."

"Cal!" Sebastian hollered, dashing toward, then high-fiving the excitable man he'd met the day they arrived.

Cal's side-parted hair rustled when he slapped the man's hand full force. On his back was the bow that Sebastian gave him and even taught him to use. All the while, the goofy man learned to throw and use knives from the town's very best.

"Let's begin the lesson," announced a woman with petite spiraling horns, light gray skin, and long, black, twin braided hair.

"Miss Night," Artie gaped, eyeing the woman that'd drawn a crowd to her.

"All black attire, a coat that rises past the nose, and a hood that covers all but the eyes when raised. To top it off, she has a deathly silent presence that even I can't detect. An honest to goodness assassin, just like in video games."

Artie's heart always had a soft spot for medieval-style assassins and Japanese ninjas. The class wasn't flashy enough for the game characters he created, but he secretly admired them on MMOs.

What made him hail the woman named "Night" more was that she was one of a kind. No one else had managed to reach the knife "class advancement."

Artie learned that the mountain people used more game-like terminology than the forest town. They created titles for people that'd exceeded a certain skill level. Knife users advance to assassins, Axe users become warriors, etc.

Sebastian, who'd strived to become an assassin, waved goodbye and then proceeded with his instructor. Soon after, the glaive teacher called for their students, and Artie commenced his own training. He never adequately learned spear, so it felt like a fresh start. The significant difference was that while a spear had a straight, pointed tip used for throwing and thrusting, a glaive had a curved blade primarily used to slash.

Neither they nor the forest town had developed the means to mine and smelt metal, but the blades of their weapons were forged from an armored creature's shell and gave off a shiny gray look. Trainees didn't use real weapons during training, and wooden versions were available instead.

Training mainly consisted of 1v1 sparring, but since Artie had been a fresh recruit, he continually swung the polearm around in the air, rehearsing the teacher's form and weapon skills.

The course lasted three hours, and after Artie exited the area and discovered Laria in wait. When addressed, she notified him that someone reportedly knew his father, John Ernest. Anxious to learn of his father's whereabouts, he departed with Laria.

Half an hour down the mountain range, there was another town. It was the first time Artie had left their initial location, so he'd forgotten what it was like to have dissecting eyes gazing at him. He'd become accustomed to the appearance of the ram-folk, but sometimes he forgot that he was neither ram-like nor human.

Laria led him to a large square hut with a velvety fur carpet, then toward an older man with a scarred neck, short purple hair, and light purple skin. The man was sitting with crossed legs on the soft floor while intensely debating with another person and taking sips from a wooden cup.

"Hello," Artie interrupted, gaining the man's attention.

"I heard you know my father, John?"

The man's head inched back, and he grew wide-eyed while staring at him.

"Artie?" The man said in an uncertain tone.

Awed by the sound of his own name, his ears perked up, and he felt his tail sway underneath his coat. He nodded to the man, then the stranger beamed with joy and patted the floor, indicating he should sit.

"Back on Earth, we worked together. He told me all about his little adult son that started living alone at a young age."

"You look different from the photos, but I suppose we've all changed from the people we used to be."

"Is he here?" Artie asked, turning and scanning the room.

There was a break in the conversation, and the scarred man took a sip from his cup before responding.

"He left a while back in search of your mother."

"I see," Artie replied, tilting his head to the side and sighing.

Seeing his noticeable letdown, the older person had food prepared for Artie. A wooden plate arrived at the table carrying a pink, creamy and round doughy edible.

"He was confident that you'd be fine on your own, said you were a strong kid."

"I'm sure after John located your mom, he planned to find you too."

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After a disingenuous laugh, Artie sniffed the fluffy food before taking a tiny nibble.

"Yea. Sounds like something he'd do. For whatever reason, he always treated her like some helpless damsel in distress. Probably why she up and left."

"Then, you're going after them?" He asked concerningly.

Once the flavor of whatever he ate settled, Artie became elated and took a bigger bite. The taste closely resembled pancakes, but it was remarkably sweet even without syrup or jam.

"I am; someone needs to be there to protect that fool from mom's wrath. What kind of father saves their ex-wife before their 17-year-old son?" Joked Artie, speaking in between bites.

"John said you had a sense of humor," laughed the man.

"Mhm, Thank you for the food, err-" Artie started, rising from the floor.

"It's Hank. And you're welcome."

Informed, Artie and Laria embarked to go home. He spotted a crew of hunters returning as well and assumed Mayumi would also be home shortly. Tired, he headed straight for their tent and entered.

As he pulled the tent's cover back, he saw Mayumi facing the opposite direction without a top. He didn't look long enough to decipher the tattoo on the back of her neck, but he noticed that her slim waist and right shoulder were wrapped with bandages. In addition, she was in the middle of adding more before he interrupted.

"Give me a minute," she voiced, her head rotating around slightly to glance back at Artie.

At first, he became flustered by the woman's clothless back, but he worried more about the Asian woman's condition. He stepped away, but not before he eyed the injuries on her body.

Laria stayed inside to help Mayumi dress her wounds. A voice sounded from inside not long after, signifying he could enter. So he did, sitting at the desk while they awaited the rest of their campaign's return.

"Ah, leader, your hair has much gotten longer," Laria observed, trying to strike up a conversation.

"I guess so," replied Artie, pulling black strands of hair that stretched halfway down his forehead.

Overall, he'd looked considerably better. He developed average muscle tone and gained enough weight that his slim face fleshed out and displayed a defined jawline. In addition, he'd hit an unexpected growth spurt, jumping from 5'9 to 6'1 feet in less than two months.

It took nearly two hours before the gang arrived. Within that time, word of their departure spread across the village. They would be resuming their travels within the next two days, but not before a going away festival was held in their honor.

 

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Time: 7:00pm-9:00pm

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The next day things were lively as supplies were being moved to the extensive training field for the festival. Once the sun began to subside, the festivities commenced.

What astounded Artie was the resourcefulness of the people. They created a concert-like environment with nothing but an empty field covered in silver grass. Large blocky objects were conjoined to make a stage for performers, and long tables were placed on the outside of the plot and loaded with food and drinks. Even without electricity, they managed to light the area in various entertaining colors. He learned that the firefly insects changed hue via their surroundings. So they were introduced to different colors and placed behind a lens to amplify the light.

"Amazing."

"I've never been to a concert or a club, but I imagine this is what it's like.

Surrounded by hundreds of other people with their hands up and bouncing to the rhythm of the music, Artie raised his head and hollered loudly in amusement. His presence was drowned out by the sea of bodies, and his voice was lost among the performers' make-shift instruments. Drums created a fast and low bass beat while a stringed instrument and singer recreated bustling songs, both old and original.

Loud music, night crowds, rave lights, and the smell of appetizing food. He felt irrelevant as he jumped in place, shouting with his hands above his head, fist-pumping uncontrollably. It was a thrill.

Something climbed from within his epicenter. The same reoccurring energized feeling that swelled before bursting into lightning churned again. He wasn't anxious or panicked this time and felt proper control over it.

The black three-inch horns protruding from his head slowly emitted faint sparks of lightning. Perhaps it was the influence of the mood, but Artie carelessly allowed the energy to be steadily released.

"Whoa!"

Nearby bodies turned and observed the flicker of yellow light. It appeared harmless, but Artie still grew nervous. His difference had caused him suffering in the forest town, so he worried if he'd face the same discrimination now that he revealed his unique ability.

"That's lit, man!"

"Since when could you do that!?"

Hands playfully shoved him and patted his back, praising him for what he considered a cruel curse. For the first time, briefly, he did not detest his body's mutation.

"Up the settings on those things; let's light this bitch up!" One man yelled out, followed by the roaring cheering of other partygoers.

Artie didn't look pleased or excited. The situation was so abnormal, so unfathomable, that it took time for him to reconnect. But, when he did, a grin slithered across his face. He took a deep breath and concentrated on releasing more. The sparks intensified on will, brightening his surroundings and not lashing out at others.

The rich, yellow light bounced around with him as he continued to dance to the music, this time not alone. Impressed individuals huddled around and pranced alongside him.

Song after song, the festival continued for hours. There was a brief moment when the music was cut and the chief, Crowley, translated from Yel'worc, stood on stage to state a few kind words for Artie's group. Harvey for expanding their knowledge on the world's plant life, Laria for sharing her sketches and information on monsters, and Rachel for her studies on the hunter's malleable bodies. Mayumi was praised for sharing strategy, then there were words for Artie and Sebastian for simply being enjoyable.

The festivities ran until two in the morning when a call for hunters was announced from the front gate. Everyone foresaw the inevitable invasion of monsters; Artie just expected it to arrive much sooner with all the clangorous racket.

While Mayumi and Sebastian offered aid to the defense, Crowley redirected them to their tent and insisted they rest before their journey. Artie and his group complied and returned to their tent, satisfied with their last night at that mountain village.

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