Leaves of Terranthir - Chapter 17 Fight or Flight (Patreon)

Chapter 17 Fight or Flight

Adrian watched as the old warrior went to grab a wooden cart from the side of the plaza. To transport the corpses they had left behind.

He went to join the man but Yrenor grunted.

He pointed at Adrian and then towards the city, made a stabbing motion with his spear and then pointed to the remains of the pyre.

“Alone?” Adrian asked, gesturing a few times to understand the man.

Yrenor then pointed to another cart.

Get to work, I see. So he just wanted to see if I could fight some of the undead without his protection? Or he wanted to know if I would help him with the corpses.

Adrian gave the man a thumbs up and checked his spear. No crossbow. Oh well, got my shield and daggers. As long as I don’t engage any magic users, I’m good to go.

He didn’t worry about time either, knowing that Yrenor expected him to bring the corpses to the pyre. A more timely job than actually killing the creatures but Adrian would do so anyway. He could fight undead whenever he wanted to but having a weapons and language instructor was something he had to prioritize.

If it took a slower collection of Essence, so be it. He walked off in the direction Yrenor had pointed to, expecting it to be random anyway. Adrian allowed himself a smile. He had found someone else and he had survived a night in the stranger’s home. He could work on learning the language and getting better with the spear. And in a way he had found a purpose.

The pyre had obviously not been the first one Yrenor had built and by now Adrian was sure the large area had been cleared of undead by his newfound companion. If Yrenor would instruct him for his help, Adrian would dedicate his time to the same purpose.

“Cleaning up the town, hmm?” he wondered, walking through the empty alleys before he chose a random set of stairs leading up. All he could really do was speculate. Why was Yrenor doing it? Why was he alone? Why would he help a random person stumbling upon his pyre? He stopped suddenly, his eyes opening wide.

Was there a reason Yrenor burned the bodies? Would that be the only way to assure some kind of spirit or ghost wouldn’t haunt them? Had he already fucked that up by throwing corpses off his terrace? By letting them rot in the alleys near his royal chamber? He entertained the possibility that the ghost like creatures he had seen at night were specifically there to haunt him, to get revenge for what he had done.

Then again, he assumed the undead were just that. Undead. No glimmer of life or sapience remained in their glazed over eyes and rotten bodies, of that he was reasonably sure. And yet it creeped him out a little. Just the idea of it all. I should go back when I have time, build a pyre and burn the bodies. Ah fuck, it’s going to be a pain finding them all. Why would I just throw them off?

Adrian continued onward, the first civilians showing up after another ten minutes of exploration. He kept to the alleyways, killing individual monsters with precise thrusts, the largest group he encountered being three.

He left the corpses behind when he found an open double door in the alley, light coming out from within.

Adrian glanced back and decided to get the bodies back first, lest he kill too many to get them all back in time. Should’ve taken the cart with me already. Ah well.

He shouldered one of the undead, finding the weight relatively easy to carry. He smiled at the ridiculous sight he must’ve made. Like some kind of trained fire fighter. Adrian could certainly not carry a person on his shoulder but here, the gear he wore allowed for some ridiculous things.

The next twenty minutes he spent carrying the six bodies to the last staircase leading down, not about to try and haul the cart up the stone steps. The wooden contraption hadn’t looked particularly sturdy after all.

He returned with the cart a little later, stacking the bodies with some care, both to make sure he could easily wheel them back but also because he didn’t know if Yrenor would get offended if he treated them like the dead sacks of meat they were.

When he came back to the pyre again, he found the old man murmuring his prayers in front of a new body he had brought. His cart had another four bodies on it.

Each one gets a prayer. Oh well. I do wonder how long you’ve been at this, old man.

Adrian stopped his cart and put his spear away, grabbing the first body and placing it in the pyre area. He sat down and closed his eyes. “Oh uncaring void of death, welcome this worthless sack of meat into the cycle of energy until the heat death of the universe consumes us all.” He waited for a moment before he sighed, placing down the next body.

“Gods of death, take this soul and try not to torture it for too long, it was really just an unfortunate undead. Didn’t even see me coming,” he murmured in a respectful voice.

When he was done with all of them, he got up and found Yrenor looking at him with crossed arms.

He speaks English, doesn’t he?

But the man just gave him an appreciative nod before he turned to his cart again.

Adrian grabbed his spear and did the same, pushing the thing to the same stairwell he had used before. Back in the same alleyway, he found the open door again. Peaking inside, he saw the inside of what seemed to be a small chapel. Lit candles flickered near the front of the room, a few undead stumbling around between the rows of uncomfortable wooden benches.

Might as well clear this place. Maybe I can find a religious book or something. Might talk about the prophecy of Adrian, the great redeemer. Undying lord of his fucking royal chambers.

Spear in hand, Adrian entered the chapel. The undead didn’t notice his silent approach. He finished the first one with a powerful thrust through the monster’s head, splattering dark blood onto the stone floor. Adrian slowly lowered the body with his spear still stuck in its head before he removed the weapon and moved on to the next.

The undead turned and moaned, the sound dying in its throat when Adrian’s weapon punched through the unprotected flesh. One more creature remained in the room, sitting in the front row.

Adrian slowly walked over with his spear at the ready. He aimed at the monster’s neck and thrust.

The wooden handle vibrated in his hands, the steel tip hitting something hard and glancing to the side. Adrian stepped back to make distance between himself and the undead, slightly dazed from the hit.

The undead stood up quickly, turning towards Adrian with hands going to the side. The man wore a tattered black robe with decorations in silver, faintly shimmering in the candle light. Other than the clothes he looked exactly the same as every other undead.

Something flickered as the creature pushed his hands together and Adrian ran.

He ducked and rushed towards the door, changing directions with every other step, trying to learn from his earlier experience with the crossbow shooters. He got close when something zipped past his form, a bright fist sized ball of flame.

Adrian tried to slow, hiding his face and chest behind his shield when a blast of heat and flame exploded out from the impact. His vision blurred as he was flung back, hitting the ground before he smashed into one of the benches. Something snapped in his back, Adrian gasping for air before he coughed and rolled to the side.

Spear.

He couldn’t see the weapon, instead going for one of his daggers. It nearly slipped from his hand. Too much blood. He used his other hand instead, stumbling once as he got up. Flames roared at the entrance of the chapel, chunks of stone falling from the ceiling as the wooden double doors were devoured by fire.

Adrian turned to the undead in time to see another flaming sphere forming between its outstretched hands. His eyes opened wide before he dove to the right. Another explosion of heat washed over him, flames clinging to his armor and shield as he slid on the stone floor, rolling to get rid of the fire magic.

The door was out of the question. Something was wrong with his back and his right arm hurt, bad. The dagger had slipped away at some point. He tried getting up when a surge of fire washed past over the bench he had dove behind. The heat made his eyes tear up again, blinding him for a moment as he ducked again.

The windows.

He could see the light of the sun pushing through the decorated windows, glad the chapel had another way out. He just hoped the way down wasn’t quite as far as the last time he chose to jump out of a window.

Adrian didn’t wait, rushing up and towards the closest exit. He jumped and felt heat hit his back. Helmet first, he crashed through the window, another blast making him punch through far easier than he could have otherwise.

He was flung out of the chapel and smashed into the wall of the opposite building. All the air was pushed out of his lungs as his vision grew dark. Then he fell.

It turned out the way down wasn’t as high as the last time. It was much farther.

Adrian hit a set of stone stairs, the impact sending pain through his arm and face, the sudden sensation jolting him awake as he screamed in pain. He tried to move but all it did was send another jolt through him. Something bloody stuck out of his right arm, making it hard for him to move the limb. His eyes stung, wet with something. He could barely see.

The problem was that Adrian wasn’t the only one groaning in the dark alley. He had to get away, lest the mage throw another ball of fire down on him. He managed to turn slightly, wiping away at his face with his left hand. It came back wet with blood, shards of glass sticking out from his arm.

His vision a little clearer, he just barely managed to see the dog running at him with barred teeth. Ah fuck.

Adrian grabbed the second dagger, pulling it out of the sheath before he slammed it into the approaching dog’s skull with enough force to nearly rip off its rotten head. He noted that his shield was gone, the straps not slung around his arms anymore.

He rolled over, groaning as he tried to get up. A stinging pain made him touch his face again. He grabbed something solid and pulled on it, a piece of the window coming out with it, the pain barely adding to his misery.

Before he managed to stand, something impacted him, Adrian tumbling down the flight of stairs, coming to a stop with a ringing in his head. The helmet had probably just saved his life. An undead lay next to him, moaning as it tried to get up, one of its legs broken.

Adrian closed his hand around the shard of window glass and jabbed it into the monster’s face. He removed his hand and slammed his palm against the piece sticking out, pushing it into the creature’s skull with a sickening crunch.

There were more of them, rushing towards him with shuffling steps. He crawled away, still screaming from the pain. He soon felt hands grabbing at his legs and back, nails digging into his armor and clothes. He was rolled to the side, nearly passing out when his mangled arm got under him.

Frenzied undead faces stared back at him. He was done for. Another scream escaped him, this time not one of pain and fear, but defiance. He grabbed the closest undead and pushed his head down onto the stone stairs, slamming it hard against the edge.

He felt the rotten skull give, brains and blood spilling out of the cracked head as his pants were getting ripped through by the creatures. He grabbed an arm and pulled, trying to grasp at the undead’s neck but finding his hand too bloody. He slipped a few times when his gaze was pulled towards the window of the chapel.

The mage looked down with a flickering light forming between his hands.

Adrian closed his eyes, pulling the undead closer as it tried to bite his face.

The fireball exploded on the creature’s back, shredding through it as the blast sent the whole group flying through the small alley and down the stairs. Burning limbs flopped to the ground as Adrian came to a stop. He couldn’t see anymore but the pain had stopped mostly. His throat felt dry but his body clung to life. Even now.

He wondered then if Vitality really was the best stat to invest in, questioning if this experience had really been something to add to his memories. A ringing sound in his left ear slowly subsided before he heard a popping. His right one was out entirely.

His left arm still worked, Adrian moving it towards his face then down his chest where he found something hard. He knew it was a piece from the window, sticking in his leather armor. Something in his mind pulled on the glass. He pulled it out of the treated leather with ease, smiling as he felt but didn’t see the shape of the small piece.

Adrian imagined a dagger, the weapons he had so foolishly lost. He felt something new within him, a power that hadn’t been there before, flowing through his veins and at his will. The shape of the shard changed. He tried to laugh, the experience so fascinating that it momentarily overshadowed the state of his body and the situation he had gotten himself into.

Only a rasping sound came from his burnt throat, steps coming from his left. Well by now everything came from his left, his one ear the only thing that still supplied him with anything.

Was it Yrenor, coming to save him? He could imagine the old man cradling him in his arms, bringing him back to the hut and giving him something against the pain. Anything.

A familiar sound came to his ear, that of steel stabbing into armor and piercing the flesh below. His that was. He moved the dagger to where he thought the monster’s arm would be and found purchase, pulling down until he felt the weight of an undead land on him.

Adrian coughed up blood, feeling his body grow numb and slow, his slowing heart beat pounding in his ear. His arm moved weakly, stabbing the rudimentary glass dagger into the moaning undead. He stabbed and stabbed, until he couldn’t lift his arm anymore and all his senses went dark.

The pain was gone a moment later, the horrible burns, his mangled face and arm. All was gone as he shivered, tears flowing from his closed eyes as he curled up on the soft earthen ground. He wasn’t surprised. Why would he be?

It was cold, a breeze flowing over the terrace, the rustling of leaves the only sound in the vicinity. He felt cold. So very cold.

Adrian didn’t know how long he lay there unmoving, silently crying to himself as he tried and failed to process the visceral experience he had just gone through. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he stared at the familiar double door leading into the royal wing of the castle. His royal wing.

He wiped away the tears and stood up, grabbing at his arm that was perfectly healthy. He bit his lip as he slowly made his way inside. He barricaded the door to his room and went to bed. At least here he would be miserable and warm.

Adrian had a hard time piecing himself back together, the only thing that marginally helped was staring at the numbers within. They inherently belonged to him. He could see that they were whole, and so he too must be whole.

Soulbound:

Essence – 98
Level – 6

Vitality – 16
Endurance – 10
Strength – 9
Skill – 8
Intelligence – 12
Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Shaping Glass Magic – level 1

He chuckled to himself. All he lost were one hundred Essence. He even unlocked his soul skill. Not what he had hoped for but he would make it work.

Adrian could die again. He could just repeat it all until he could return. He knew it but felt nothing. And he was so terribly tired. His eyes closed, he focused on the letters and numbers, tracing them slowly until he fell asleep.

Soulbound:

Essence – 98
Level – 6

Vitality – 16
Endurance – 10
Strength – 9
Skill – 8
Intelligence – 12
Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Shaping Glass Magic – level 1

Equipment:

Helmet –
Chest –
Arms –
Hands –
Belt –
Legs –
Boots –
1h Weapon –
Off hand –