Chapter 144 - Return Of The Great Spirit (Patreon)

Jiran looked over his shoulder to make sure the woman had been singing at him. Niya warily watched the thousand or so gathered people prostrating themselves. The woman who had sung dropped to her knees, joining the rest in a deep hum that shook the ground and water from so many voices all working in tandem. Not one of the gathered people met their eyes, even the children seemed to sense the gravity of the situation and stared at the ground or their parents.

Mana Omnis gave him a fresh perspective on the strange race as he scanned the crowd. He felt less threatened by the moment as he failed to find anyone who’s mana was even close to as concentrated as his. Their auras were weak—not fully formed—similar to the children he had seen in Lordstone. Their sap-like blood moved through their bodies in a coordinated, rhythmic pattern; each and every one of them pulsing with mana together in perfect harmony. Seeing so many gathered and all of their mana moving in exactly the same way at the same time, Jiran was momentarily stunned by the beauty of it.

He had learned from healing one of them last time that their bodies were formed in layers of bark-like flesh, each one acting as a separate organ. Now, he also saw that their manapools were similar to his—spread through their entire body rather than concentrated in a single area. Jiran firmed his aura, blocking out the intrusive humming to give them some privacy. Niya spoke before he could say anything, still on high alert, “Jiran, what are they doing? Are they going to attack?” She hissed, her hands were up and she was crouched defensively.

“It doesn't look like it. They’re praying, I think?”

“What did that woman say?” Mayalyn stood with her head tilted curiously, not the least bit on guard. “They feel calm, grateful, and hopeful. I do not believe they mean to harm us.”

“Well, that’s something,” Niya relaxed slightly, her mana and aura no longer roaring to be released. “What tier are they? And yeah, I want to know what that lady said too, or sing, or whatever?”

“They’re all tier three, every single one of them. Even the kids,” Jiran trailed off as he examined the smallest child he could see. The little boy clutched his mother, who was still head down with her arms raised like everyone else. The boy’s eyes were drawn to Jiran, his face lit up with an expression of innocent curiosity.

[Vacant Timberling: Tier 3 - Sapient - Indifferent (120/120) A failed species incapable of complete integration. Subjugation recommended.]

Same description as last time. Tier three, just like all the others. How can such a small child be tier three? Wouldn’t he have grown more when he ascended?

“Stop spacing out and tell me what she said!” Niya grumped, “I can already tell you being the only one who can understand them is going to be a massive pain in my ass.”

Despite the tense situation, Jiran cracked a smile, “She said something about a prophecy and taking their hands to free them from the hives. Honestly, none of it made any sense.”

“You’re hiding something, what were her exact words,” Mayalyn turned to him with squinted eyes.

“Ugh, fine,” Jiran shuddered but swallowed his embarrassment and repeated the woman’s insane rambling.

“Enslave them? Take their lives? Ask her what she meant by that,” Niya nudged him from behind.

Jiran dropped his aura and spoke loudly enough that the woman could hear from the edge of the pond, “Could you explain what you meant? What are the hives, and why would I want your li-err-hands?”

No way I’m going to start rhyming, too.

The woman wore a joyous smile as she lifted her head, the movement gently swaying the leaves and branches protruding from her head. Her hair was stark white, as were all the women Jiran could see. Only the young men in the crowd had other colors of hair. Her skin was covered with meandering cracks and was so pale that it shone in the moonlight. Thick, armored bark covered her body. She sang, once more her voice activating a skill, “Oh Great Spirit! I hear you and I serve you. The hives take, their thirst we have failed to break. When their hunters descend, we cannot contend. So, we offer our hands, as the prophecy demands.”

Jiran sighed, making sure to keep the frustration at her non-answers from his voice, “You’re not making sense with all the rhyming. Can you talk plainly? What exactly does this prophecy say? And what kind of beasts are these hunters?”

Why am I even entertaining this madness? She sounds just like Mother when she talked about the Voice. Is that why I’m so put off by these people? First hives, and now hunters. Do they have a beast problem they need help with? Who am I kidding, no matter how far that portal took us, this is still Madra, everyone has a beast problem. Hopefully, they’re tier sevens.

“The hunters are most fearsome, never once have we felled one. Our fate is to hide and obscure. The prophecy is a secret, but I would have you hear it. Please, I beg of you to give me time. I must clear out these people of mine.”

Finally getting somewhere. Wait, if they haven’t ever killed one, how are they still alive?

“It’s fine, let them stay. They can’t hear you anymore.” Jiran’s aura wrapped around the woman, blocking sound. She immediately grew terrified when the humming around her ceased. Confused and wide eyed, she turned to her sides to see the people kneeling next to her. “Trust me, they can’t hear anything we’re saying. Go ahead, tell me this prophecy.”

“V-very well, Great Spirit. The prophecy is as such,” Her song took on a haunting melody as she swayed back and forth. “One will come, at first alone. He will heal the heartwood, as none other should. He will return, no longer alone, as he flees the throne. His voice will hold the power to unite, to uplift, and to guide you from the night. He will bear gifts, though fear his fury, as it will widen the rifts. He seeks that which you cannot give, so give him your hands and heed his commands. Be destroyed, or be saved. Choose wisely, and you will be enslaved.”

Jiran translated word for word as she sang. By the end, Mayalyn and Jiran were completely flabbergasted. Niya recovered first, “This, this is—”

“Completely ridiculous,” Jiran interrupted her with a shake of his head.

“No! I was going to say: This is amazing! It’s going to be so easy to get their help if they think you’re some kind of savior. Don’t leave her waiting! Say something cool so she thinks you're this prophecy guy.”

“No way. Absolutely not.” Jiran’s refusal caused tears to run down the woman’s cheeks. She threw herself to her knees and slammed her face into the mud while humming in the same tone as the people outside his bubble of aura. It could have been the solitude of her voice, or Jiran’s harsh refusal, which caused fresh sobs to wrack her body.

Mayalyn pulled on his sleeve and spoke quietly into his ear, “I do not understand your aversion. Have you not consistently used divination to guide your steps? Why now, when it comes from another, do you shy away?”

Jiran held her gaze for several seconds before sighing in defeat, “Because it’s preachy. It reminds me of my Mother.” Both girls gave him thoughtful looks before nodding.

Mayalyn’s tone turned soft as she held his hand, “She raised you with the doctrines from the Church of the Voice, only to betray you by trying to kill you. I can understand why you would have doubts about any religion after that. But these people are not your mother and she has spoken honestly and from the core. She does not wish us harm at the very least.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help them.” Jiran poked Niya in the shoulder just hard enough that she would feel it even with her tier five durability, “I meant that I’m not going to manipulate them by pretending to be someone I’m not.”

When he turned back to the crying woman, she had pulled herself together and was staring up at him with hopeful reverence. Once again, he did his best to keep the exasperation from his voice as he motioned for her to stand up, “I think we should start over. I’m Jiran. This is my partner, Mayalyn, and my cousin, Niya. What’s your name?”

“Partner?” Niya mouthed to Mayalyn behind his back and she nodded with a happy smile.

“To know the Great Spirit’s name, to hear it is my blessing, and my shame! This one is called Fariacialaropana Mashahamara.” She sang her name with a lilting cadence that was wholly different from her regular speech. The longer it went, the further Jiran’s brows rose. She continued in her regular song, “I guide the Sect of Belief. We have awaited your coming, your visage our greatest relief.” She halted her song long enough for Jiran to translate.

I guess the last one I met wasn't the only one with a ridiculously long name. Why is a tier three one of their leaders? Or maybe 'guide' means something else, but I get the feeling she meant she was the leader of the entire sect. Maybe sects aren’t that big.

Niya dragged him from his thoughts, “How is she rhyming to us in the first place? What are the chances that the words of her language, also rhyme along with our language?”

“That’s an interesting point, I have no idea how the translator really works, we’ve never taken the time to experiment with it. At least the girl that was here before stopped rhyming after I asked her to, or did she?” Curious, Jiran spoke to the woman, “What happened to the girl I met last time?”

“We punished her for you. She was a fool to lie before the Great Spirit, and so her name, we did smear it.”

The moment she said punished, foresight began to softly thrum through his neck. The warning was different than usual, it carried a hint of choice, of the gravitas attached to a single moment in time that could alter destiny forever. Jiran moved toward her, his feet hovering just above the water as his voice turned menacing. “What do you mean, you punished her for me? And what did she lie about? We barely even spoke.”

Fariacialaropana froze upon seeing Jiran’s building anger. She swallowed nervously and sang in a rushing nervous tempo, “She claimed the healers had refused to sing to her birther. She was misspoken, none may heal the heartwood when broken. Her voice was used to manipulate the Great Spirit himself. Her vows stipulate, the punishment meted immediate.” Jiran’s jaws clenched and her rambling grew frantic,” It is my disgrace that she still breathes. I will end her myself, send her to the leaves,” Foresight’s warning redoubled as Fariacialaropana rose to her feet.

Trusting in his instincts and his unique ability, Jiran shook his head, “Like hell you will. Take me to her, now.”

Her eyes grew wide as saucers and her body began to tremble causing the leaves and branches adorning her skin to fall away in waves. She looked to her side at several of the gathered timberlands with their noses still in the dirt, humming happily and completely unaware of the conversation. “She has doomed us all, this will be our fall,” The woman whispered as her shoulders slumped. “Very well, Great Spirit Jiran. I will guide you to her again. May your mercy be light during this dark night.”

“What happened?” Niya asked as she floated behind Jiran and Mayalyn. “You met some girl before and they did something to her?”

Jiran blocked off their conversation as he followed behind the woman who looked like she was stumbling toward her own execution. “Remember I said I helped them the last time I was here? This girl’s mother was dying and I healed her. Apparently, they punished her because she said her mother was denied healing, rather than being beyond their ability to heal.”

“They punished her due to semantics? I mean, to each their own. Not sure why you'd get so worked up over that.”

“I just have a really bad feeling about it and foresight started acting up as soon as she mentioned the girl. I don’t think it’s a normal punishment. She even threatened to kill her. No. Something else is going on here.”

Mayalyn nodded, her eyes boring into the woman’s back, “She is hiding something. Her fear is thick as blood.”

The woman took them beyond the ring of lanterns that circled the lake. When she looked over her shoulder to see all three of them floating behind her, she whimpered fearfully before hastening her steps. They were led down a narrow trail through the dark night. It was clearly a well-used path, yet not once did it force the environment to conform to it as it weaved around the massive trees. Glowing vines hung from the tall boughs, shedding a dim light that lent a haunting atmosphere to the woods. Very few birds and critters made an appearance in his aura, leaving them shrouded in an eerie silence.

Eventually, they reached an empty clearing and wound their way around it, following the well-worn path. Multiple splits led to homes dug into the ground directly beneath the largest trees. Each one was carefully positioned so as not to disturb the roots that made up their walls. Not just the homes, but even the larger communal dwellings were all underground.

Foresight continued to ramp up its warning as they made their way around the wide clearing, never once leaving the cover of the trees. Jiran’s aura noticed the girl long before they would have arrived at the slow pace of their guide. He shot past Fariacialaropana, Mayalyn in tow.

He yelled over his shoulder, “Niya, watch her and don’t let her follow!” The woman sang a warning as they exited the cover of the trees but Jiran ignored her, trusting in his aura to protect them from the hive’s hunters if any showed up.

It was difficult to tell if the girl in the shallow pit was the same one he had met before. Her arms and legs had been ripped off; the wounds too jagged and brutal to be from anything other than being pulled apart by brute force. She lay on her back in the mud, her mouth and eyes open as she gazed at the sky in unending torment. When Jiran floated into her sight, her eyes tracked him. The smallest twitch of her face showed recognition. Her dry, cracked lips closed to swallow, failing to gather enough moisture to complete the simple action. When she tried to sing to him, no sound came out.

Mayalyn gasped beside him, her hands covering her mouth. “This is horrible! They did this to one of their own? I take back what I said! They are worse than your Mother.”

Jiran couldn’t have agreed more but he didn’t let his disgust reach his face as he landed next to the girl. His knees dropped into the sticky mud that was soaked with her blood. His fingers brushed across her cheek and she closed her eyes, all the muscles in her body going limp as his mana put her to sleep. He lifted her body, so light and frail, into his arms. Mana Confluence swept through her, healing the damage in her lungs and throat while stopping the blood loss from her missing limbs. The second her life was no longer in danger, Foresight’s alarm eased and vanished.

Each of her limbs was supposed to be composed of a dozen layers. Since they were gone completely, he would have to rebuild them from nothing. Because they were so different from humans, he wasn’t confident in creating them for less than his entire manapool. Unfortunately, his mana was at just below half after transmuting so many tools for The People and using the portal to bring them here. He also wasn’t about to drain his mana to nothing in an unknown land with crazy religious fanatics all around him.

If I can find her limbs and reattach them, it would save a ton of mana. Even if the tissue is completely dead I bet I could fix them with one or two percent. I suppose I could just take all the mana from that woman… She’s only tier three, it would hardly make a difference and might cause an even bigger incident. I should at least try to not disappoint Olive five minutes after coming here.

He carried the girl back to Niya and Fariacialaropana, who was shaking and shedding leaves at an unprecedented rate. She threw herself to the ground before Jiran, her hands outstretched and cupped, “Please, forgive us Great Spirit! We sought her rebirth, to bring her some measure of worth. We did not know you had claimed her, or we would never have unnamed her.”

Jiran’s voice was steel, the venom in his heart barely held at bay, “Her arms and legs, where are they?”

“Given as tribute to the hives, to sate their thirst and save our lives.”

“I didn't ask for an excuse! Which. Fucking. Way?!”