3.46. The Long Dark I (Patreon)

Early in our relationship, Ikfael had once told me the gods give gifts with ten hands, meaning that they always had more than one purpose for everything they did. Diriktot had brought me to this world after I’d died to show his gratitude for introducing him to cell phones. What else he’d intended—the other nine hands—had remained a mystery, at least until this clue.

I thought about the Deer God, and wondered if him tagging along was an accident. Or maybe Diriktot had been angling for a two-for-one special: a human being and an earth god, both free of darklight.

All of creation was supposed to be one big elaborate mechanism for filtering the stuff on behalf of the Imperfect God. And somehow I had a role in that? If so, I wasn’t clear on it. Diriktot’s only instruction, as near I could tell from the glimpses I’d gotten of him, was to enjoy my new life.

No quests presented themselves. No callings either, except for the ones I’d brought with me. The only expectations were my own and my community’s. Maybe that would change as I moved along the Path to Perfection, but for now, it seemed I was off the hook for... well, I wasn’t sure what the gods would even want from me.

Hello, anyone out there? I asked.

Just us, Yuki responded.

And yeah, I didn’t hear anyone else—not even the Deer God. It was only Yuki and me in my head, and the phone too, I supposed, which made me quietly chuckle. By my old world’s standards, that was already crowded enough.

I checked the phone for more surprises, and found a new widget on the home screen: a weather report. Apparenlty, the next day would bring a high of seventy-six degrees faranheit and a low of forty-three. Winds of approximately ten to twelve miles per hour were expected from the northeast, with a minimal chance of showers in the early morning.

I laughed then, helplessly—silently to keep from disturbing my family—at the ridiculousness of everything. In five days, my home was going to be attacked, and my new path gave me a weather report in preparation for it.

Biillisha turned over to look at me. “Eight, are you all right?”

The others stopped pretending to sleep, their own worries rising to mar their beautiful spirits. Even so, they followed suit to check on me and make sure I was well. Which I was, truly. The soul mark didn’t mean anything. It would have no impact—not on the Long Dark and not on what I did from day to day.

I was blessed with talents beyond all good sense, as well as with dear friends and family. Really, the life that Diriktot had gifted me, it was... well, it was a life, wasn’t it? Full of joy and hardships both. And I was meeting both full-heartedly as they arose.

“We’ll be okay,” I said, and meant every word.

###

The next day, the land soldiers arrived. The two teams each featured a dawn dog and rider pair, supported by four soldiers on foot. Their spirits were sharp and attentive, their gear in good order, and their talents solidly solid. Overall, they smelled of competence.

Knight Ithia didn’t do us dirty. She’d more than kept her side of the agreement. The village was already blessed to have a dog rider, and now there’d be three for the Long Dark? Everyone was thrilled.

And man, it was really something to see the dogs introduced to each other through tumbling play. The air vibrated with their yips and growls, like standing next to the speakers at a club. You felt the sounds in your heart. Pretty soon, though, they were put to work, practicing their integration with the village’s hunter and militia teams.

The last couple of days, people focused on fortifying their longhouses. The windows were boarded up, and the already sturdy doors reinforced. The rooftops sprouted spikes to keep aerial invaders at bay. Boards were laid down along the evacuation routes in case it rained, but there was no chance of that according to the weather report. People did it anyway, sticking to their traditions with religious fervor.

This close to the Long Dark, it was too dangerous to send out scouts, but Kesa had kept the hunters remaining in Voorhei busy and documented the most likely threats. The King of the Forest’s death had left a power vacuum in the area, and the nearby elk and musk ox herds had been clashing on and off for months.

There was also a chance that one of the big snakes living under the escarpment would come up looking for easy prey. We didn’t have actual intelligence on those, though. The information on them was drawn from the lodge’s records. Apparently, the deep caves under the escarpment were incredibly dangerous.

And then there were the wild cards—individual creatures who’d gained enough power or weird talents to become threats. There was no way to prepare for every variable, but we had contingency plans, including a full retreat into the village’s pyramid. There was enough space, food, and water down there to support the whole village for seven days. It’d likely mean having to rebuild the village afterward, but better that than a massacre.

The last day before the Long Dark, we spread pitch across the berms, applied poison to the stakes, and cleared the leg-breakers from any stray rubble. Arrows were put into buckets along the wall-walk, as well as extra spears. At regular intervals there were also stacks of firewood, bandages, food, and drink.

As evening fell, the air became thinner, like I’d gone up in elevation. People snapped at each other, but somehow continued working. Me too, although all I could think about was how good a steak would taste. My mouth kept salivating, even after I stuffed it with jerky.

Those expected to fight tried to sleep, and some did despite the itchies. I was too amped up and too hungry. At midnight, the Long Dark would begin. We didn’t expect an attack right away—it’d take time for the truly dangerous creatures to sense the village and make their way here—but we’d be on the walls anyway, just in case. There was always a just in case.

Midnight came, and I felt my world turn upside down. Like falling too, the pit of my stomach rising, and then flipping so that it dropped. My mana bubbled as if it were boiling, and my qi rumbled, although not quite as hard. My muscles ached, and I felt hot, starting to perspire heavily.

All around was a discordant symphony of alarmed brays, grunts, cries, and screeches—both from within and outside the village. The spirits of the trees grew anxious, and all the birds lifted into the air in one panicked movement. It was like a giant had pounded the ground, the impact lifting the debris. Once in the air though, a portion took off for parts unknown, while the rest dove back down into hiding.

Not every creature would fall into madness; the majority would hide hoping to outlast the Long Dark. But the more light they’d absorbed, especially darklight, then the higher the chances of them losing themselves to the hunger.

Yuki seemed fine, for example. The easiest year ever. Which was no doubt connected to our symbiotic relationship, and maybe even my Spontaneous Formation soul mark, but this wasn’t the time and place for philosophical meanderings.

We merged to check on Snow, but she and her kittens were safely hidden away in my cave behind the waterfall. The silver wolves were there too, and all of them seemed to have weathered the shift in light okay. Ikfael and Leiluminwei weren’t nearby, but Snow indicated that she’d seen the otter disappear into the water. All the construction workers for the shrine had returned to Albei about a week ago.

We pulled our attention back to Voorhei and separated when a clamor arose as an ox smashed into a longhouse wall below. It was supposed to have been hobbled and blindfolded like all the other domesticated animals, but it had gotten free of its ties. The family that owned it cursed as they struggled against their own discomfort to capture it again.

Nearby, the dog riders whispered in their mounts’ ears, but the dog’s spirits were stoic. None of them were pups; they were veterans and knew in their bones what to expect.

The Long Dark had begun.

Eventually, the raucousness diminished as the creatures nearby got used to the discomfort, only to be replaced by a series of soft chimes from the eastern side of the village. It was the alarm system at work—running on the mana contributed by villagers throughout the year—and it signified that a handful of low-levels had crossed the boundary there. Then a louder chime came, this one more urgent, as something bigger and/or more dangerous approached.

Kesa’s team was stationed out that way. It was also technically the more civilized side with Albei and the other villages farther to the east. The threats shouldn’t be as significant as the western gate where my team was stationed.

I strained my ears anyway, and it was quiet for a couple of long minutes until I heard the tell-tale crack of a single Spiral Pierce. Then, when that didn’t appear to be enough: the flash of a Spark, another Spiral Pierce, and silence. Word came later, passed along by runners, that it’d been a chliapp lion chasing after smaller prey.

The air above us chimed, and I spotted a kettle of vultures winging toward the east. Their dark feathers would’ve made them invisible against the night sky if not for my spirit eyes. They appeared to be just traveling over us, which I relayed to the others around me. Haol saw them too and confirmed my assessment.

Individual pings sounded from the north and south, but nothing apparently warranted spell use. The southern approach surprised me, since a river bounded the village wall there, but it was possible the creature ford across or maybe even came from the water.

A hand at my elbow surprised me, but it was just Mumu.

“Breathe,” she said. “You’ll tire yourself holding so much tension. Be alert, focus on our side of the wall, but let the others focus on theirs.”

I took a long breath, and intentionally relaxed my shoulders, the grip on my bow, and the scowl that’d formed on my face.

“Better,” she said, and turned her own attention back to gazing out across the fields below the west gate.

###

At 2:00 am, a cete of fire badgers triggered a dong from the alarm system in the area northwest of the gate. The only reason I recognized the beasts at that distance was because the one in front was the size of a midsize sedan. The big boy should’ve been picked up by the lodge’s patrols, but we’d been short-staffed for a month, and creatures tended to get restless in the run up to the Long Dark.

Whatever the reason, he was here now.

Fire Badger Alpha (Animal, Dawn)
Talents: Smells Like Victory, Tenacious, Clan Leader, Claws Like Knives

There were six other badgers with him, including two who could spit fire. As Haol called out the numbers, I pointed out the dangerous ones. A quick huddle around Mumu determined that we’d try our arrows first. If that didn’t work, we’d sally against them. We also called Sheedi over, just in case.

The issue wasn’t the stone walls, but the wooden portions of the gate. We had to keep the badgers’ fire from damaging them.

Haol was our best shot, and he took out the smaller badgers one by one, infuriating the alpha. Mumu targeted the big boy, but when her regular arrows didn’t penetrate his fur, she turned the responsibility over to me—the person on the team with the deepest qi well and fastest recovery rate.

Two points' worth went into the bow, another into the arrow, and then I ran the qi through me, coalescing it around the arrow. I firmed my core, stabilized shoulders, drew, and sighted the raging badger.

Brief licks of flame appeared within his mouth. Facing the beast, I didn’t have a chance at a heart shot or anything else equally lethal, and I didn’t trust myself to hit an eye at this distance. The Spiral Pierce built and built, spinning faster and faster, sharper and sharper, until it screamed at me for release.

Bang!

The arrow shot from my bow, billowing my hair. I’d missed the jaw and the neck and hit the chest instead. Badgers didn’t have sternums like humans did, but there was a thin layer of bone that protected the sac for their fire oil. It looked like I’d punctured it.

The badger screamed and thrashed, while I got another arrow nocked. Mumu put a hand on my arm to keep me from drawing.

“The poison might be enough.”

I nodded and watched along with the others as the badger hissed and fought against the chishiaxpe venom now in his body. He rolled up against one of the berms, catching on the stakes there. Moments later, Sheedi came riding over on horseback, and climbed to where we stood on the wall.

“Fire badger,” Haol reported, and she nodded in understanding.

“I’m not sure,” I said, “but I might’ve punctured the fire oil sac.”

From the south came a flurry of dings, almost like a school of fish had decided to come visit, which knowing this world might actually have beeen the case. Sheedi looked that way, but there didn’t seem to be any messengers rushing over to get her.

So, frowning, she considered the badger once more. “I can throw fire that far, but I’d rather not light the pitch so early.”

“We could sally,” I suggested, “and put him out of his misery.”

“I’d have to go with you,” Sheedi said.

Nobody around us seemed to like that idea, but if Sheedi stayed mounted, she could just flee if the situation turned on us.

“The badger might also die on his own,” Tegen said.

Haol had never taken his eyes off from the field, and he interrupted: “There’s something in the trees.”

The tension in me that had started to ease, ratcheted again. Whatever it was, the trees blocked its spirit from view, and it apparently had the wherewithal to wait patiently. That was never a good combination in an opponent, and I wasn’t the only one to think so. Frowns spread all around as the others also looked.

“No sally,” Mumu said, “until we know what’s there.”

“And the badger?” I asked.

“We don’t waste anymore arrows or qi on him if we can help it.”

Sheedi walked to the nearest brazier to grab a ball of fire to cup in her hands. “I’ll wait here for the time being.”

Mumu bowed. “Our gratitude, Honored Speaker.”

###

The fire alpha badger lived up to his Tenacious talent. He slowly pulled himself past the stakes and down from the berm, crawling toward the walls. At about fifty yards out, he paused to rest, then resumed crawling, only to pause again after about fifteen feet. His spirit fluttered, and as he came closer, I saw that it synchronized with his rapid panting. The uphill climb to the village slowed him even more.

A greedy lodge would’ve gone out to get him. The alpha was a big bag of money and light, after all, and yet no one seemed to seriously consider it. Even though we could be out there and back in a matter of minutes, the watcher in the woods kept us behind our walls.

“There’s more than one,” Haol said. “The first was joined by two more.”

“A pack or herd of some kind?” Mumu asked.

“I can’t tell.” Haol replied.

“How are you even seeing anything?” I asked, annoyed. I mean, he was Keen-Eyed, but it wasn’t supposed to be that special of a talent, and the boundary on this side of the village was about three quarters of a mile away.

I only saw the angry-disturbed-chaotic rustling of the trees. Nothing was as usual; all the normal patterns were broken. And then the forest erupted two or three miles to the southwest. The trees went nuts, their spirits rising in wrathful indignation as a pillar of flame rose into the night sky. For a moment, it looked like the flare atop an oil rig before disappearing. It flashed again periodically afterward, but among the trees this time.

Sheedi watched on, the fire in her hands reflected in her eyes. “I’ll be sticking to this side of the wall, I think.”

###

The badger crawled to within twenty yards of the wall before dying. At around four in the morning, the battle in the forest to the southwest came to an end. Shortly after, the forest to the northwest shook with the sound of an explosion, like someone using dynamite.

The village’s alarm rang several times to the east and northeast, but nothing too concerning. Haol reported that the number of hidden watchers west of us had once more gone down to one. Then, that one also faded back into the forest, which might’ve been a trap, so we held our positions for another hour before risking a hurried retrieval of the fire badger alpha. The militia hauled the body back to the lodge once we were back inside the gate.

Dawn brought a measure of peace, long enough for several of us to take turns napping and get a bite to eat. The meal was simple: smoked pork and pickled vegetables over corn porridge. It was a bit salty, but I didn’t mind.

###

At about ten in the morning, a convocation of giant eagles was spotted to the north heading toward the escarpment to the west. They must’ve seen something that changed their mind, though, because part-way they wheeled toward the village instead.

“Five!” Haol yelled.

And I followed with a loud, “Confirmed!”

Drums pounded to warn of an aerial attack. The alarm system would’ve been too late, since flying invaders could potentially pass through the boundary and be within the village in moments.

The eagles winged past the village to the north, but turned to approach, this time from the east with the sun at their backs. My team and I were already sprinting for the stairs, as Dura’s team in the distance came running to take our places on the wall.

The dog riders were already gone, dashing for the village’s center. The militia scrambled to take their positions atop the longhouses. They sat among the spikes and prepared their bows. The kids who’d been working as messengers got under cover. Their faces blank under the influence of Meliune’s Blessing. My family’s children were somewhere out there too. Each had a portion of Yuki within them, so I knew they were safe.

Mumu called back toward me: “Eight! What was in the eagles’ spirits?”

“None are above Level 5. I see sharp minds, beaks, and claws. Nimbleness in the air. Nothing that attacks at range.”

Even while dashing through the village, she calculated the risks posed and resources available. “Your qi well?”

“Is full again,” I said.

“Then go. Tegen too. Call out if the riders aren’t enough.”

We’ll do it, Yuki said, and Dog’s Agility spun through me, propelling me ahead of my team.

Tegen was only a heartbeat behind as the longhouses blurred past, our feet flying along the smooth planks lining the paths. I nearly stumbled, though, when Yuki said, Snow reports an incursion at the Glen, but Moonlight raised an illusion of a wall to hide the cave.

They’re okay?

So far. Leiluminwei has returned, and the wolves are conferring with him.

Tell me if anything changes.

Of course.

The buildings turned from wood to stone. I passed Ghitha’s old house, Dwilla’s place, and the Farmer’s Lodge, then took the steps up the pyramid two at a time. In the meanwhile, the giant eagles had spread so that they weren’t clustered together.

The hunters at the eastern wall shot at one. They bracketed her with their arrows to counter her aerial acrobatics, and I saw several stick. The giant bird spiraled into one of the longhouses with a thud. The militia swarmed her with their spears.

In the village, though, we couldn’t use poison arrows. The risk of friendly fire was already too great when the arrows came back down to earth. Lances and spears, however, were another matter, and the dog riders at the pyramid’s peak used theirs against an eagle trying to get inside.

The eagle batted his wings to knock them away, but a dog got her teeth around one, her neck jerking to break the bones. The other dogs rushed in to savage the other wing and tear the eagle’s throat out.

The riders jumped from their saddles to get free of the melee. All of them were small, light enough to not be a burden to their mounts. That also meant they were tempting targets for flyers.

An eagle swooped in with claws extended just as I arrived. My spear joined the dog riders in keeping her at bay. Magic pulsed from Tegen, and it was as if the whole world suddenly turned their attention toward him. The eagle spun impossibly, the air somehow complicit in the feat, and she dove at Tegen instead. In return, he spent qi like water to receive her with Callaut’s Hide and Iron Heart. Oh, there was a wicked look in his eyes too, sharp as his spear.

Tegen ducked and stabbed, catching the eagle in the thigh. I spun a Spiral Pierce spell and was only a beat slower, my spear striking deep into her undefended back. That grounded her, eliciting an awkward, high-pitched call.

Three down, I thought, as the dogs converged on her.

I looked for the remaining eagles. They should’ve been drawn to the pyramid, and if not that, then the Hunter’s Call. I wiped the sweat from my eyes but didn’t see them in the air. A shout came from the southeast, and we took off running. The dog riders caught up quickly, and then bounded ahead.

Above the longhouses, we saw an eagle winging away with a small figure in his claws. The militia nearby shot at him, the air filling with arrows, but the wind carried him higher and faster than expected.

I felt a pit in my stomach, watching the eagle escape. Yuki pushed, and my meridians heated up painfully as they and I demanded speedier-faster-urgent qi. Our Dog’s Agility pulled me ahead of Tegen, and he grunted in his effort to keep up.

More voices shouted, and they drew me. One I recognized clearly: Old Man Wahashtei. His militia team was positioned by the broken well two “blocks” over from my longhouse. I veered in that direction.

The longhouses blew by, and my steps pounded on the wooden planks. I passed through a plaza, along a path, and into another plaza. At the far end, Wahashtei threw himself at a giant eagle, interposing his spear in front of a young boy. Two other militia members were down, one decapitated and the other with her guts in her hands.

What happened? Why was the child outside? And then I saw the wreckage of the longhouse behind them. It’d been sliced open like a squash and the interior exposed. In my peripheral vision, blank-faced children dashed away.

The dog riders didn’t know the village. They’d gone the wrong way.

The giant eagle’s claws cut through Wahashtei and his spear like they were nothing. The young boy ran, but the eagle hopped to catch him. Then, his wings lifted him powerfully into the air.

Why the young boy? Why not Wahashtei who’d been cut in half? He should’ve been just as easy to carry.

The eagle must’ve seen Tegen and I, because he immediately dropped out of view behind the cut-up longhouse. Even with Dog’s Agility, my legs pumping, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with his escape. I had to cut him off somehow. The other had gone southeast. Would this one too?

I tacked to change direction and dropped my spear to pull my bow from its sling. The arrows rustled in their quiver, jostled by the sprint. My breathing came fast and hard, and there was stitch in my side from sprinting and the fighting. The qi from Dog’s Agility offset some but not all of the body’s needs. I couldn’t let that stop me.

More longhouses passed, and I heard shouting from ahead. I ran that way, turned a corner, and spotted the eagle flying low to the ground, veering around a well.

Endless practice nocked an arrow, and I drew, but it took precious seconds to come to a stop, to stabilize my body and lock my breathing so that I could fire with precision. Tegen didn’t have to worry about that. He sprinted past, his bow cracking with the sound of his Spiral Pierce.

The eagle rolled, and his arrow flew past. My own shot was slow. I’d taken too long, and the eagle disappeared up and over another longhouse. My arrow shattered against the wall behind it.

We gave chase again, Tegen and I, but never caught up again. The people at the walls fired on the eagle when he suddenly soared over them, but in the end, he managed to escape.

Gulping in lungfuls of air, I saw him wing away. My Status camera showed that the boy in his claws was already dead. There was nothing more we could do.

As the adrenaline faded and I fought to bring my breathing back under control, my fists clenched around my bow. I couldn’t help myself. It was impossible to make every shot. I knew that—every hunter knew that—but maybe if I’d practiced the lodge’s style of archery more, I could’ve taken the shot while on the run and had more time.

Listen, there were bound to be causalities during the Long Dark. Everyone I’d spoken to had made that clear. No matter how well we’d planned and how well we executed those plans—life in this world was vicious. It surprised you, ambushed you, and would do anything to claw the life and light out of you. It was impossible to escape the Long Dark unscathed.

As the eagle became a dot in the sky, I felt sick to my stomach. The poor families—

Tegen gripped my shoulder. “We do what we can,” he said, his voice soft. “This is a world of striving, and so we do, in spite of everything it sends at us.”

I should’ve felt better at his words, but I didn’t.