Cling, CLANG, cling, CLANG. Why'd the kid have to go and make him steel boots, hm? Little good that did. Wandros rounded the corner and fell to his knees. Couldn't keep running much longer. The blue-stone hall and its black-torch flame stretched on forever in front of him. He could still hear screams from the lake.
He wrestled a waterskin out of his sack and looked inside, the very last sip staring back at him. Tipping the skin over, water trickled onto his face, rushing down his tongue and onto his beard. Wandros laughed, a hearty laugh like an old fat man might, throwing his voice way down the hall and back.
You know, you expect things to make a sound. Real big, scary thing like bears or dragons. Bears growl so you'll get outta there, and dragons roar so you'll stay right where you are. It's near proper manners, really. But then there's fish. Fish! Back at home everyone worried about those goblin thieves, but fish are the real silent killers. You'll just be standing around watching your line and SWOOP, you're a body in the water.
The shoes flew off his feet and hit the wall. Why'd the kid have to go and die, hm? Little good that did either. But no, the kid didn't wanna be saved. Wandros was the "leader," of course. He'd be better off alive, of course. Cling-CLANG. The old Dwarf's fist hit the ground, rattling the chain of fortress politics.
Maybe in a different life, he coulda been something else. A treasure hunter. Maybe a farmer. He hated farmers and their farm parties, but maybe a farmer.
Wandros lifted his hand up and winced. He didn't even look down to see all the places he was opened up. The doctor was dead, too, but that wasn't this thing. That was a different thing. There was always a thing.
For just a moment, he was going to die there in that blue-stone hall with its black-torch flame. But he was standing up before he could ask why, and the hall was dark. The black-torch flame was still burning. Hair stood on his back, pointing to the form behind him. The soundless, Jellyfish form.
The shadow shifted left to right, changing shape each second. Tentacles, many of them. How many? It didn't matter, of course: they each crackled with death. Wandros felt for his axe-shaft and turned back about three degree a second. He was going to face this thing honorably.
"BE SURE."
What was this? Did the thing speak? No, it had no mouth. He heard it in his mind.
"BE SURE YOU PUT YOUR FEET IN THE RIGHT PLACE, THEN STAND FIRM."
Wandros' cloak blew back as he swung around to face Abe. A sparking tentacle flew toward his face, but he sliced straight and dived right. The floating beast raised two more above his head, but Wandros closed his eyes. "Martial Trance," they called it. He could hear the faint sparks from Abe's stingers. One twirled down, but he jumped in seconds. Another came from behind, but he ducked right in time.
"YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE RESPONSIBILITY OF TOMORROW," heard Wandros in his mind. "BY EVADING IT TODAY."
The beast was right. This couldn't go on forever. Eyes still shut, the old Dwarf dived into a somersault toward his fishy foe as the sounds of electricity sparked around him. He was near under Abe now, and hefted his axe for a good, solid throw.
Then Wandros made a mistake. He opened his eyes and saw the large, spiteful beast, embittered with the world and its "laws." He saw that beast migrating far underground, trying to escape, lashing out at every disturbance. He saw himself and wondered why that kid took a stinger for him. Maybe the boy had something Wandros didn't. Maybe he shoulda been the leader instead.
In those final moments, though, Wandros knew how that boy felt. It was a mixture of respect, awe and raw fear. He feared Abe, and he was awed by the Jellyfish god's majesty. For that reason, when Wandros fell forward clutching his stinger-filled wound, he respected the beast as an equal.
Cling. CLANG.
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Topic: Jellyfish god named Abe (Read 7504 times)