7: The Four-Armed Giant (Patreon)

Vir’s reply caught in his throat. Worse, tears started to roll down his face. “I didn’t know,” he managed.

He was named  after Rudvik’s stillborn child. Had Rudvik pinned the same hopes on him  as he had his stillborn son? What kind of torture had Rudvik been  through following the death of his wife and child?

“Ye, well, not ta kind of story that oughta be told. That oughta ever be told,” he added.

Father and son  spent several moments in silence until Maiya returned to report that  the tent was up, then ducked back into the tent. She had likely finished  some time back. Vir wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d heard  everything.

“Thank you, father. For everything.”

“Ya don’t hate me, Vir?” Rudvik asked, looking like a sinner confessing his crimes.

“For what? For giving me a home? For not hating me like the other villagers do? Yes, father. Shame on you…”

“Not like dat. I mean, I ne’er told ya. I hid it all from ya. Like a coward.”

“I mean, it’d have been nice if you’d told me. But I understand. And now I know. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Rudvik  chuckled. “Ya got no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell ya all this.  Feels like I jus’ felled a mighty Godhollow, lemme tell ya.”

The lumberjack kneeled before Vir, grasped his shoulders, and looked him in the eye. “Your father—your real father—is gonna come after ya one day, Vir.”

Vir wondered about that. Was this giant really his  father? Vir was of a smallish, lean build. He had two arms, like any  normal person. Sure, his skin was a bit ashen, but that just made him  resemble this mythical giant even less. Who was that giant? Would he ever find out?

Thoughts raged  in his head like a maelstrom, and a knot formed in the pit of his  stomach. He feared it wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

“A bein’ like  that gets what he wants, Vir, mark my words,” Rudvik whispered. “Be  ready, son. Be vigilant. I’m no warrior, but I do have this ax. I’ll do  everythin’ I can to protect ya, that I can promise. Still, I felt you  oughta be warned.”

Vir’s eyes narrowed. “Warned? Of what?”

“I could tell he cares deeply for ya, Vir. But there was a madness to  his devotion. The way he looked at ya when he handed you over to me…  Well, I’d seen that look before. Reminded me o’ a zealot worshiping his  god.”

Vir’s mind went blank. Worship… me!? The thought was so absurd that he wanted to laugh. Forget worship. No one had even treated him well, apart from Rudvik and Maiya’s family. He’d  ridiculed, spat at, and ignored. They’d even thrown rocks at him.

Rudvik’s revelation filled him with a cold fury. He didn’t know why.

“I need some time to think about all this,” he said. “Doesn’t really feel real, y’know?”

Rudvik clapped  his shoulder. “I’ll bet. Tell ya what? Why don’t you ‘n Maiya take  first watch for the night? I’ll cover the rest.”

Realizing that  they had finished their conversation, Maiya stepped out of the tent.  “You sure, uncle Rudvik? Vir and I could take two shifts.”

The lumberjack wasn’t having any of it. “Chala’s Knees, girl!  Yer just babes. What kinda parent would I be if I let ya take two  shifts? I’d bring shame to all de fathers out there! Outta the  question.”

Maiya quickly  realized that there was no convincing the stubborn lumberjack. Maiya  took a seat beside Vir and watched as Rudvik eased the hot rocks under  the tent for the night.

“Well then. Holler if ya hear anything, alright?” he said before closing the tent flap.

Silence  descended upon the camp. The fire had burned down to embers by now, its  glowing red coals barely emitting enough heat to keep them warm. Maiya  sidled up to Vir, shivering despite the Magic Heat utility orb she clutched against her chest.

Vir didn’t  even have the benefit of magical heat, but he’d always been able to  tough out the elements better than the other villagers.

“So…” Maiya said, desperate to break the oppressive silence.

“So…” Her friend echoed. “I suppose you heard everything?”

“I’m sorry, Vir! I finished with the tent and the forest’s just so quiet, I couldn’t help but overhear you two.”

“It’s  alright,” he said, smiling. He’d probably have told her at some point,  anyway. There weren’t many secrets between them. It had been that way  ever since he could remember.

Maiya cleared her throat. “So, do you think what he said was—wait!” she said, startled. “W-What was that!?”

Vir looked out  into the darkness. Even with his superior nightvision, he couldn’t make  anything out. The forest was truly pitch black without an ounce of  starlight.

“I don’t see anything. Probably nothing. Anything we need to worry about would make a bigger thumping sound.”

“You sure?” Maiya said, unconvinced.

“All sorts of  prana beasts in the Godshollow. Plenty of animals that could put you  out, but they fear us more than we fear them. They’ll be long gone  before you ever realize they were there.”

“Oh. I—I see. Well, that’s good,” Maiya said.

Vir returned  to scanning the darkness, but Maiya was determined not to allow the  silence to prevail. “So, about what your dad said… You believe him?”

“I do, yeah. Why? You think he’d make something like that up?”

He could feel Maiya shaking her head. “No… But still. I’ve never even heard of a four armed anything, not even in the scriptures. It’s kinda hard to imagine.”

Vir chuckled.  “Yeah, and that monster’s supposed to be my father? Or at least someone  close to me? If you told me yesterday that I’m related to a mythical  giant, I’d have laughed in your face.”

Maiya snorted. “Me too. But, hey! I think it’s amazing. Means you’re not like the rest of us.”

“Well, that was obvious,” Vir said.

“Not like that! I mean that you’re someone important, Vir. You’re somebody. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you are. Me? I’m just a village girl. No mythological relatives or anything…”

“You really  want to make a name for yourself, don’t you?” Vir asked. He almost felt  like they’d both be happier if their situations were reversed—with him  being an ordinary villager and her the one with a mysterious relative.

“I do,” Maiya said. “I really, really do. But I dunno how that’s ever gonna happen.”

“You think this is your chance, don’t you? You think that by joining us, you might visit a big city one day…”

Maiya leaned her back against his, and looked up to the sky. “C’mon, Vir. That’s not why I joined you. You know that.”

Vir smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I know. My bad.”

“But… well, yeah. If we do make it to a big city, that would be amazing. But even if we don’t, I’ll be happy if I can protect you.”

Vir tried to imagine Maiya slinging fireballs at vicious animals… He started laughing.

“What’s so funny about that?” she huffed.

“Nothing!  Nothing. Thanks Maiya. I appreciate it.” He really meant it, too.  Everything in his life had become suddenly strange, so it was comforting  to have as many familiar faces as possible.

“You think we’ll make it out alright?” She asked.

“Think so. Especially if your father leads the knights astray like he said. But…”

“But what?” Maiya asked.

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

Maiya turned to face him, though he could barely make out her face in the darkness. “Tell me!”

Vir sighed. “Well, what do you think’s gonna happen to your father if he’s caught helping us?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, those are Hiranyan knights, Maiya. Your father’s playing a very dangerous game, feeding them misinformation. If they ever find out…”

“I have to go back,” she said, panicking.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What could you possibly do if you went back?”

“I—”

“Why do you  think he let you come with us in the first place?” Vir interrupted. He  continued when she didn’t reply. “It’s because he felt you’d be safer  here, with us, than with him.”

Maiya fell silent, and Vir immediately realized his mistake. This wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.

“He’ll be fine,” he said. “Your father’s the only one in the village who can use combat orbs. He’s Balar Ranked, right?”

“Balar Rank Five, but that’s not much, Vir. Those knights are probably Balar Ten or higher.”

“He’s a smart man, Maiya. I’m sure he’ll be alright,” Vir said.

The minutes  turned into hours, but Maiya didn’t speak another word. Vir knew she was  brooding over her family, he just didn’t know how to make her feel any  better. He regretted his words for the rest of the night.

Luckily, their  biggest threat ended up being a large lizard curious enough to venture  into their camp. Maiya startled at the sound, but Vir drove it off  without issues.

The hours  passed quickly for Vir. The forest, while certainly strange, was silent  to him in the way it was for Maiya. Ever since he was a child, he’d  heard its voices. He liked to think it was the voices of the plants and  the animals… but he eventually realized it wasn’t. It felt like the  collective voice of the Forest itself, though he knew such a thing was  impossible. Or at least, he’d thought it impossible, until tonight. If four armed giants really existed, then who was to say that living forests didn’t?

Maiya’s thoughts lingered over her family, but Vir turned to his past.

Who was he?  Would he ever find out? As the time went on, the answer became  increasingly obvious; if he wanted answers, he had to find this giant.  But he had no clue where to even start. Such a being would be famous  across the world, yet he hadn’t heard a single myth, not a single word  of gossip. But perhaps… perhaps if they made it to a big city, maybe he  could ask around there.

Rudvik’s snoring abruptly halted, causing both of them to startle.

“Looks like our shift’s over,” Maiya said with a giant yawn.

“Looks like it,” Vir replied.

Searching for the four-armed demon in a big city was all well and good, but first, he had to make it out of the Godshollow.

Vir’s sleep was fitful and restless that night. He dreamed of tattooed giants and stillborn children.