Chapter 12: 10 : A Destructive Feast

[Hello, Evra here. When I did this chapter, I tried to do something interesting, but what I had in mind and the results possible weren't compatible. The ending of this chapter is a bit jarring, this is the reason I'm writing this. If I ever manage to figure out a way that isn't as jarring, I'll edit the chapter. For now, my intent with the ending of this chapter will be explained in a comment below.]

 

Yassil was stuck in stasis for so long that he had forgotten the passage of time. Rage, anger, sadness, and regret were his jailers for a prison that a cruel witch had tricked him into. She had told him the key to resolving all his misery but bound his lips with her nightmarish spell. He could hear and see the outside from his shell, the witch planted a flower that would make sure of it with its long roots. He saw the slow downfall of the forest he was king of as his subjects were killed and eaten one by one. His house degrading slowly. The forest being invaded. The tomb of his wife getting robbed…

For some unknown reason, the roots stopped showing him the slow death of his forest and instead focused on a young girl traveling in this dangerous forest. It wasn’t the first time the root showed him a kid traveling in his forest and every time, they would meet a horrible death. They all made him think of how his daughter might have died somewhere unknown. When he saw the girl run to help the cursed wolf, he believed that it was the end for her. But in the end, one of the beasts his wife took care of saved the girl. There were many times she should have died, and he was doubting whether she was sane with everything she did. But somehow, she came to his crumbling abode…

Her voice broke the curse, and he realized that the witch had left a gift for him. The witch’s words resounded in his mind with a cruel question. A deal he couldn’t refuse… “Fight, brave hero. Your swords will shine under my spells. Your standard-bearer will carry my colors. Your field musicians will recite my legend. Your messenger will whisper my words. I shall yield your shield until I am satisfied. I will allow you to fight even the god in exchange…”

❀

 

Yassil screamed with his new power flowing in his body and something warm and nostalgic in his stomach responded by pushing a strong dome of wind which eradicated the coming horde. A feeling that he could always feel standing by his side during his darkest days. Now blooming warm and close to his heart.

Tsuki looked at the monstrous undead bear in front of her at a loss for words. It stepped forward and made her leg buckle down under the trembling ground. She held her breath as the thing leaned forward and gushed a warm wind with the smell of calming essence. Insects moved between the creature’s bones and a lone moth rested atop a crude skull fitted around the beast’s neck as a necklace. She remembered seeing it and managed to whisper a name from her trembling lips.

The cursed pair looked at one another. Wrought round their neck a burden danced from the ethereal wind. Him, his past and remorse; hers, her future and hope…

Unbeknown to the girl, the demi-god had chosen her as his apostle. He knew how to find the weapon that could slay his greatest foes. He simply needed someone to find it and wield it… The path to such a weapon was written in the letter in the girl’s possession. She simply needed a way to read it and her being pushed as his apostle would allow it. He wasn’t worried whether she would follow his ideologies, she would simply be his standing-bearer who carries the vile witch emblem…

Yassil made vines move inside his large body and out they came with a long blue ribbon. It fluttered down controlled by the wind and tied itself in the girl’s hair. “Tell me thy name warrior,” said the demi-god.

The girl muttered something indistinguishable under her breath. She was questioning herself as to how she should respond to this question. Not that she didn’t know her name, but truthfully, who was she really? “Tsuki,” she said. In the end, she concluded that what made Alice Alice wasn’t her sick body, but her mind. And right now, the one that was stuck in this sick and useless body was Tsuki.

“Tsuki!” said the giant bear, his voice low but resonating high because of his size. “I will open a path for you, take it until you reach a stream which you will have to follow downward. Find protection from this point and head to the east where a fortified town rests. There, you will arm yourself and vanguard forth in the mountain. A temple sleeps in a cavern. Find it! I shall give you my blessing until you reach it. Then, if you slay the beast that rests at the apex, I shall make one of your wishes come true! NOW GO!”

Yassil plunged his large claws into the ground and caused a long line of trees to sprout in an instant and impaled whatever monsters were in the way. The trees then split in the middle like carnivorous flowers and collapsed on either side to devour the monsters. The halved trees wiped and flailed anything that might have gotten too close.

A blood bath was created with the trees which looked more like bloodied vines. An ocean of flesh divided by simple trees, the ground underneath getting drowned in rising blood; the girl looked at the road ahead, was it really the path she had to walk…

The girl looked down at her feet and began to walk forward with her ears covered. Her steps were light as the silk ribbon slowly glided in the air and let out its enchantment. She ran faster than what her small body should have ever allowed her to and quickly could see the tide become less oppressive.

The girl made her choice: to walk a path of pain and suffering to save her dear Alice instead of simply resting her eyes and having a painless death…

❀

 

Yassil saw the girl leave, her long black hair bouncing with an old silken ribbon tied to it… He let out a strong roar, louder than any before, but with a conviction as solid as steel. But as his scream was ending, he could feel a disgusting ball of air being forcefully pushed out of his throat. He tried to keep it inside, but a magical power wound itself around his bony snout as dark vines sprouted and tried to control his mouth. It was the witch, her power overcoming the demi-god, and she cast her spell with his body. She produced a sound with her magic that the ears could not hear but traversed far and wide such that those with strong magical capability would come to fear that day: the call of war of a witch who had once destroyed a world… Two beings who heard the call responded by moving toward the source.

“Dear mister bear,” Whispered a voice that overlapped many others “I gave you some help but understand that it comes with a cost. Fufufu. Try to survive until they come.”

Yassil was distraught at this. He knew he was now stuck in another web the cursed witch had put him into but at the same time, he accepted it. He had made a deal with the devil and didn’t deserve to make any complaint. For now, he had to deal with two kinds of foes. The sky falling on him and the ever-growing horde of monsters. There was also the girl which required some protection…

“I’ll deal with her. Go have fun my champion. Don’t you dare die here. I won’t allow it.”

Yassil could feel something heavy lifted from his shoulder. He had to focus on the issues at hand: the horde. They didn’t seem to care for their own safety; they kept walking into the dome of wind, and although it was stronger than before, there was a limit it could handle. But this limit wasn’t something he was worried about. Instead, the monsters which looked to be trying to consume the magic in the dome worried him.

Unbeknown to Yassil, a large maw formed from the sand-like dirt below him and bit down his leg. The strange teeth passed through like butter and Yassil, the tall and mighty, was brought down to the ground where more of those maws were forming. They bit down. Crushing and cracking then nothing. His body was consumed. His dome crumbled.

“Ho my. That was fast,” The witch said, resounding in Yassil’s soul. “I’ll take your memory of what vanilla smells like. Now, wake up and fight…”

Out of nothingness, a surge of roots and bones manifested and formed back into the gigantic bear as it howled its rage. It lunged forward into the first monstrosity, a deer with a head bloated into a ball of a meter in radius, digging its large claws into its side with a strong slap. It was sent flying into a wall of broken arms that was closing in and exploded as the deer’s head burst into a cloud of red powder.

Yassil’s neck was then pierced by a creature whose sole existence was to be used like a cannon by feeding it organic matter. It didn’t do much damage and even though the thing which had pierced him was trying to spread, it was instantly destroyed as a surge of rotting power moved from Yassil’s stomach, or what could be understood as an organ, to his powerful mouth. He let out a dark and twisting breath of power, not unlike a dragon breathing fire, towards the thing that had just attacked him. The dark power forcefully split the atom of what it touched to reconnect them temporarily to small magical particles. It caused whatever it touched to somewhat turn to gas while leaving partial piles of matter that couldn’t be easily ‘diluted’ with the magic.

The gas formed into a cloud of locusts that ravaged the rank of monsters. They aimed for the legs, taking chunk by chunk until the monsters they aimed for became unable to move anymore. It gave Yassil some breathing room, but his throat tied up as his shocked eyes noticed the other monsters consuming their allies to grow in size.

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The fight would be long, and he had no choice but to charge deeper into the sea of monsters to stop them from consuming one another. He struck wildly with strong claws until blood and gore covered him from head to toe. There was nothing much he could do since he didn’t even know what this new body could do.

At one point, the strength he was so proud of was toppled by a creature that was twice his size. It easily lifted him above its head where he was impaled by many of the similar cannons that had pierced him not too long ago. He had no choice but to produce another dark breath attack on the monster that was holding him. It instantly turned the monster into a cloud of locusts that aimed for the canons.

But the ground he landed on collapsed, a gigantic mouth was hiding beneath and bit down at his hips, cutting him in half after producing a loud crunching sound. He looked above for a coming attack, a mistake as he felt his mind being consumed by just seeing the abomination in the sky, but it was mostly covered as a whale-like creature was vomited and fell on him.

“How about I take your memories of having a beating heart this time? Might be cruel, but oh well. Goooood luck!” Whispered the witch again as Yassil was revived once more.

He kept fighting and dying in this chaotic environment and every time he was revived, the witch would take something from him. She never took things that mattered to Yassil but as he kept losing part of himself, he realized there was something he himself didn’t have. Something that was stopping him from displaying his true strength. Or was it something that the witch had stolen from him?

“I’ll be nice and take the memories when you hit your little toes.”, “Do you know what fish tastes like? Not anymore!”, “How about you give me the smell of your favorite flower? Next time show me what your favorite fruit tastes like!”, “Did you ever almost drown? Never?! Lucky you.”, “Ok this one is a freebie, if you have a song stuck in your head, call me.” …

He wondered what she might have stolen that made him who he is, but he realized she hadn’t done so. She even gave him a hint by stealing the one thing that wasn’t worthless to him. His beating heart. Being stuck in rage and sadness for so long had made him forget what used to make his heart beat. And now he was remembering with the void in his heart. When he first met his wife, it was as if time had stopped. He knew his heart would have beat like a raging volcano, but he couldn’t remember it. What about the times when he was warm and bubbly after saving someone or when his parents died in front of him, and his heart should have frozen cold? What was it that made his heart move…

He didn’t need to know that. He was after all who he was. But in truth, he doubted this. After all, who he is now is far from the person he was in the past. And more so that the man he thought he was in the past, a hardworking man who works night and day to heroically rid the world of a curse that had plagued it for so long was in truth a depressed drunkard who forgot what really mattered in life…

In the end, he had always just been a vessel created to help others. It was only when he turned to his own misery that he lost sight of his own life. He himself was simply a tool: that now fearsome body its blade. He was Yassil who had dedicated his life to curing people and supporting them with their illnesses.

The instant he was reformed by the witch after being consumed once more, Yassil plunged his arms deep into the ground and forced a garden of fruity trees and blooming flowers around him. After they had grown as much as they could, Yassil lifted back his arms while commending a wave of magic that disrobed the greenery from his creation and captured the leaves and petals into a raging storm. He didn’t have any allies whom he could support thus he only needed to create his own.

The storm of petals and leaves divided itself into a multitude of green birds that joined the rank of the many clouds of locusts. As for the trees, their naked branches twisted and entwined together to create large wooden golems. Even though the monsters they had to face were able to plunge their bloody teeth into their bark and easily break them apart, this proved to have been Yassil’s plan. The monsters who would consume the golems would all have trees and mushrooms grow out of them.

The confrontation between the eldritch god and Yassil became one of pure consumption of one another. Neither dead nor alive, simply a constant exchange of matter: life devoid of its vain colors.

One side of flesh and bone and another of leaves and barks. But the biggest difference was that one side was controlled by a powerful god who had lived the destruction of many worlds while its opponent was someone who could barely be considered a demi-god. But there was something helping Yassil. Every time he would run out of power to cast his spells or to fend off the abominations, he would forcefully kill himself to be reborn anew and full of strength.

On this battlefield of consumption, Yassil was on the losing side. His cost to stay in this fight was the fragmentation of who he was. If he couldn’t end it, he wouldn’t even be able to call himself Yassil: he would no longer be his past self. Maybe he was already someone else but the current him wasn’t ready to forget everyone he once loved…

Yassil had just ripped the heads of a bird-like creature and used its body as a nest for mushrooms that would later create spores and infect more of his foes. He had to fight slowly to expand his resources otherwise he would be left with nothing and consumed.

He thought he had a way out of this confrontation. He thought that he would be able to survive until the help that the witch promised would come. He glanced upward at his nemesis, throwing the many heads he had plucked like flowers toward it, but horror took control of him as the heads only fell powerlessly a few meters away. The many mouths, maws, and jaws, all smirking at this pitiful bear’s attempt to consume him, him a god of gluttony.

It, who had consumed countless worlds.

Yassil noticed the air around him was bein_ drained of oxye_n that some of his creations required. H_ was also f__lin_ a h_avy w_i_ht pr_ss upon his mind which mad_ his r_action muddy and slow.

It, who was the only of his kind to survive the chaos of creation.

Yassil _ad no c_oic_ but to l_t _o of _is clouds of locusts as t__y b_com_ in_ff_ctiv_ aft_r a f_w minut_s. _is mus_rooms w_r_n’t t_at aff_ct_d sinc_ t__ir _rowt_ was pus__d by ma_ic and th_ myc_lium w_ic_ __ truly mad_ us_ off didn’t r_quir_d oxy__n to spr_ad.

__ tri__ to pus_ forwar_ as col_ an_ pow_rful maws ma__ from t__ soli_ifi__ bloo_y vapor in t__ air bit_ at _is _oint, cl_anly r_movin_ t__m. _t caus__ t__ __ant b_ar to fall _own an_ b_ consum__ _ust aft_r mana__n_ to _xp_l h_s last _rop of ma__c _n t__ cr_at_on of more _ol_ms.

The god above, who had once lost a war of gluttony and wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen again, was now fully focused on destroying this miserable insect trying to emulate him. It began to slowly manifest its true body by consuming the fabric of reality. Its malignant tendrils descended upon the earth below as they consumed their own image in the doing, only leaving mind-shattering filaments for those who dare to glance at them.

_ass_l tr___ __s c_anc_ t_ _ama__ t__ b_ast by cr_at_n_ a ball _f ma__c w__c_ was s_ p_w_rful t_at __ n_____ t_ ___ mult_pl_ t_m_s t_ cr_at_ an_ __ s_nt _t _ut t_war_ t__ man_f_st_ng ___.

The manifesting god was pierced by a strong line of highly condensed wind that came from Yassil’s desperate attack. A wound he didn’t care much about, but a wound nonetheless managed to be inflicted by a small insect crawling below. It had decided and wanted to consume anything related to the bear so that it could please its hunger and rage.

Its nightly tendril began to consume the forest, slowly withering as the already yellow leaves started to fall turning everything into a winter scenery without the snow.

Before it could do any more damage, a fire erupted on the manifesting evil. A burning phoenix, part of the help promised by the witch, used this moment to land a devastating attack. It flew from space as if coming to life from the sun itself and used its body like a spear to penetrate the god and burn it from the inside. The surroundings below were turned to dust by the heat produced; the dirt drained from everything was melting as the ground turned red…

As for Yassil, his body was set ablaze with nothing left of it, and his mind was broken from being consumed. The witch didn’t care about him anymore, he was just a distraction she made use of.

“You were kind of useful, my champion, but I won’t help you anymore. If you still have the will to fight, then you must revive yourself. You didn’t even have any spicy memories as well. Boring man in life and death.”

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