Chapter 10: Ch. 10 – The Sound of Laughter

I grabbed the Baron's paw and was hoisted up. "I heard of a mysterious human I had not bought or transported from Fayport. What's your name, boy?"

"Noah, sir." I looked at the cat. He was the largest Feka I had seen thus far. He was well-built and about a foot taller than even Typh. He had lion features but was spotted like Typh, marking him as a warrior class Feka. The saber hung from a decorated scabbard on his belt with two crossing straps holding various vials, daggers, and utility tools. The straps looked worn but had golden thread and bronze-colored beads adorning the edges.

Baron Gilbert's eyes narrowed, looking me over. "You were about to get mauled by a Mecho, in a cave at night, with our settlement male. Care to explain why, slave?"

Behind him, Typh woke up in a coughing fit. "I can explain, sir." He slowly got up, shaking his head from side to side.

"Well, look who decided to join the party!" The Baron had a mysterious grin now. "Bit off more than you could chew, eh Typhonious?"

"I was...training...the boy..." he said, grimacing in pain as he spoke, now holding his ribs. His light was dimming, so he took out another vile and crushed the contents, returning the cave to a purple glow.

"Training?" Gilbert took two strides toward the leopard, growling his words out. "Typh, tell me what's going on now, or I will take your security status immediately. You're lucky I caught your scent on my way out of town as I headed into Fayport for the high senate meeting. I was curious why a scent of a human and a Feka would be heading this way and investigated. I found you knocked out and the boy about to be pummeled into the cave floor. You put the whole settlement at risk!" He looked furious. “I understand the need to take a slave to haul ingredients back from a kill, but this time of night? In a mecho cave?”

Typh took a deep breath, thinking through his response before speaking again. "I didn’t mean training him to be a better slave. I meant mentoring him. He is a creator. A human creator. I didn't believe it when I first heard it, but it's true. Not only that, his magic and items are like nothing we've seen. The items he makes are exceptionally efficient against canine beasts. He calls it Wynd magic."

The Baron thought on this information, saying nothing for a few moments. Finally, he turned to me. "Let me see your markings, human."

My eyes widened, confused about how he knew of my arm markings. I rolled up my sleeve, displaying my character sheet tattoos. "Curious," he said. He turned to Typh. "He has visual markings of his skill classes." He muttered to himself about creators and thinkers, knowing more than Typh. He may make a valuable knowledge source., I thought. "We must bring him back to the smithy at once. The Monarch will want to see him right away back at Fayport. Boy, you will need to create armor for yourself. Romas can lend you some material that should work for you." I looked in disbelief, doubting Romas would give up any of his precious materials to me. "And you've made a weapon? May I see it?"

I handed him my slingshot, somewhat embarrassed at my weapon choice. He turned it over in his paw, observing every inch of it. "The magic doesn't register with me. Curious. This matches everything I've heard from the Monarch. What ammunition have you created?"

I took out a pellet from my pocket. "I made these from the silver ore in the cave walls here. I can mine it with one of my skills. When I hit the Shadowalkers, lightning shoots out from the wound and stunts their limb for a few seconds."

"Have you made anything with the red ore yet?" He questioned.

"No, should I be?"

"If you could make items out of this ore, you should certainly try with all the ores. Who knows what you could make! What magics you could unlock past your Wynd magic! Typh, you were right to train this boy. The Monarch will need to meet with him immediately. There are things about his race that he must know. He could either become a great ally for us or..." he trailed off, looking at me. "Let's say we will want him in touch with our leader immediately. She will know what to do."

He turned to leave the cave, the conversation completed. Typh watched him go, a look on his face that I couldn't place. He looked back at me and pointed at the giant fur mass on the cave floor. "Pick that up and carry it back to the city. We will want to begin work on my armor immediately. Per our accord before the battle, you are no longer enslaved by the Feka, even if that battle result was...less than stellar. You are not even standing with our kind until your slave release is official." He gave me a look of disdain, turned, and walked out of the cave after the Baron. I may have heard him muttering about my weight and lack of fighting prowess.

I scrambled toward the fur and picked it up before the purple light entirely left with Typh. It weighed around 100 pounds, and I strained to get it on my shoulder. Unsteady, I moved toward the cave entrance.

***

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We walked through the jungle, the sounds of insects filling the air. It was quiet and peaceful, with moonlight filtering in through the canopy. The Feka made no sound as they walked down the path. Their ears constantly swiveled, on high alert for danger. I didn't speak, following along. Watching Typh get mauled by a bear creature had hammered home how out of my league I was on Prixa. If a 6-foot-tall leopard warrior could barely survive this place, how could I hope to? All I did was hide in the corner and shoot pellets. I needed to create bigger, bolder items. I needed traps, utility devices, and armor; the list was long. But if the Shadowalkers were vulnerable to air magic, I would have to find a way to make more weapons. But why couldn't the Feka tell my weapons had magic?

I took a peak at my arm, noticing some new tattoos had formed. I now had a slingshot tattoo next to my class. I also had a wind symbol.

[NOAH]

[LV 3- BLACKSMITH APPRENTICE]

 

[26/32]

[14/21]

I had gained a level during my fight, increased my health and mana, and gotten a small weapon class. All in all, a solid outing. Other than almost dying, of course.

I clomped along loudly through the woods, the 100-pound fur ingredient weighing me down. I was panting and sweating profusely between carrying the fur and trying not to trip on logs. It was a long night, and I only wanted to lie in my cot. I was a free man, although not sure what that entailed. Romas would not be happy to give me up, even though I felt like I didn't do much for him.

The cats were far ahead now, not looking behind as they gracefully walked up the path. Suddenly the insects stopped chirping, and a silent calm claimed the jungle. Typh and the Baron stopped in their tracks, hair suddenly standing upright. I looked around, confused.

In the distance, I heard the sound of laughing hyenas — tons of them. The sound echoed through the night, distant but loud. It was high-pitched and cackling. The laughing seemed to come from everywhere at once. I stopped walking, a chill creeping down my spine. Dogs barked, rough and deep. Then long, eerie howls erupted into the night air, being answered by hundreds of dogs.

Typh turned back to me, shouting, "Run! We must return to the settlement immediately! We are under attack!"

Five or six horns sounded, varying in sound but deep and blaring. I took off, the fur bouncing wildly on my shoulders as I exploded through the trees. My Fekan allies left me in the dust, making it to the gates and running through. I paused for a moment in the clearing near the settlement and assessed the situation. The humans assigned to night farming were screaming and running into the gates. Cresting the hill to the right was an army of Shadowalkers. I took off toward the gates, joining the mass of people streaming through them before they closed.

 

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