Control Comes from Within

We’d been on the path for a few days, my traveling companions and I.

At first, I was paranoid that they would just rob and kill me at any time, but then I remembered Khime telling me about vorander behavior, and how they were effectively deterrents against crime and sin. I let my guard down a bit after that, hoping the men would be moral enough, or at least, afraid of the voranders enough, that they would be decent people.

The boredom and silence eventually overcame their discipline, and they started to loosen up on the second day, telling me a bit about themselves. They were guards protecting this batch of trade goods meant for Khobadaar, a tier 3 city. Their loud-during-combat leader, named Elius, had signed a contract or something to guard the convoy while it made its way through various settlements. The merchants themselves were sitting in the wagons with their goods, not really interacting with me beyond a simple nod or wave of recognition.

Usually, all the guards had to do was fend off any wild animals or the extremely rare bandit attack. Again, plenty of questions gnawed at me, like why were bandit attacks so rare or why they had to burn the bodies of the dead rats, but I kept them to myself, not wanting to rock the boat and all that.

There must have been something about me that made people pity me here. I kept getting sympathetic looks from the men when I took out what was left of my remaining water. They eventually shared their travel rations with me, some hard bread and jerky along with enough water to fill my waterskin, just as I was about to run out. They even lent me one of their spare weapons, a shortsword that was the length of my entire arm, for the duration of the journey, and even showed me some basic stances and combinations with it.

Now, I was never the most athletic guy. But I never really thought about my health or fitness that much since I got here, until I realized I wasn’t getting too out of breath even after a couple back-to-back practice spars with the guards.

Then I thought a bit more about what I had physically been doing recently: walking for hours almost nonstop from that beach to the dirt path, walking over half a day and not panting for breath every five minutes, somehow getting by on sips of water for a whole day and not collapsing from hunger, enduring rather physically demanding combat practice with the guards. I had even lost some belly flab.

The feeling of ravenous hunger that was so pervasive and overwhelming only a few days ago had withered, almost to the point of being able to ignore it.

The most likely culprit for my transformation? Essence. I couldn’t think of another logical alternative for why I had changed so noticeably, and so swiftly.

That would also explain why the guards seemed so physically superior to me as well. Maybe growing up in an essence-rich environment improved their bodies somehow? I didn’t know. Yet another question I couldn’t ask anyone, for fear of being outed as an alien and killed.

The lack of knowledge felt…almost crippling. I was basically an overgrown toddler.

Wait, is that why the people seem like they’re pitying me? They think I’m…shit. Shit, shit, shit! This is why I need to hurry up and find an academy. The academy…. Fuck! I know what I mean! If only this convoy would move faster!

Wait, hold on. I stopped my train of thought abruptly as I remembered something that could be relevant: the time difference. Apparently, this planet has 640 days in a year as opposed to my 365, so lifespans are…cut in half? So the average person dies at forty while looking like they’re in their eighties? Or do they…Khime did say there were biological differences…I guess it’s something else I need to look into.

“Contact, north! One bull type, non-aggressive! Seems like it’s just an animal!” One of the men on watch announced. A solitary animal was rather rare, or so I had been told. Something must have drawn it or pushed it here for it to wander the border area.

But I recognized the opportune moment when it stumbled into me.

Before it got too close to where we were making camp to stop for the night, I called out to the guard not to stop it yet, then to Ghosh, the earth mage. “Wait a second, don’t kill it yet! Hey, Ghosh, do you think you can restrain that bull?”

Ghosh was the complete epitome of sloth. According to what he had once told the other guards, he had ‘surrendered to his own laziness’, only acting when necessary or called upon or sometimes both, a stark contrast to the other, more disciplined men under Elius. I honestly respected him, as he somehow managed to get by doing what looked to be the bare minimum. He laid on his bedroll in the wagon, and wouldn’t even respond to tell me no, his silence an answer in itself.

So… I sweetened the deal. “I’ll give you a stone.”

“Haaa, payment first,” he spoke succinctly, yawning as he gestured towards me with his hand. I pulled out one of the blue stones from my coin pouch within my rucksack and held it between my thumb and index finger, perfectly visible for him to see, then threw it towards his position, where his fist rose up to catch it. That got him up and moving.

Khime wasn’t too specific as to the value of an essence stone, but even if I was getting ripped off on this deal, I would still count it as a profit if I could manage to successfully tame a beast.

Ghosh yawned dramatically before saying, “It’ll only last a few minutes, so make it quick, whatever you’re doing.” He started approaching the bull as I followed after him. I hadn’t told anyone I knew a taming spell, so I was sure to shock everyone when, or rather if, I did it.

Some of the men questioned what I was doing, but I just told them I had a plan and to wait. I had some amount of trust due to my young age, apparently. Even so, the bull wasn’t the aggressive type, and the guards closer to it were still on alert in case it decided to attack unexpectedly.

Ghosh lifted his hands, whispered some words I couldn’t hear, then the next thing I knew, the bull was held in place mid-stride, struggling to break the earthen stone locks clamped around its hooves. The bull tried to bash its restraints with its horns, tilting its head to get a better angle, but the horn proved weaker than its bindings.

I rushed in front of it, standing only a few meters away, and closed my eyes, trying to recall the technique Khime injected into my brain. According to it, I had to whisper some nonsensical sounding words and emphasize certain vowels, then push the essence within me to the beast, binding it to my will, focusing on my intent to do so. That whole intent part wasn’t too detailed, but I interpreted it as desire, or will.

So, I whispered the words I was meant to, taking extra care to emphasize the syllables I needed to, and then I felt a…movement, a shift, a tug in my essence. Essence I didn’t even realize I had inside of me.

Until that moment, essence to me was somewhat of an abstract concept. It crystallized into stones, it was apparently denser in certain regions than others, it was the natural energy of this world, capable of great and powerful magic.

But as the last of the syllables left my mouth, that shift in my essence allowed me to connect to it on the most personal level I could imagine. It distracted me greatly, but I somehow managed to push the feeling aside, focusing on my objective.

For the briefest of milliseconds, I felt a connection open. I had a good guess what it was, and I acted on it. I wanted that beast to listen to me, to have it under my control, and do my bidding. I kept my thoughts on that desire coming true.

And just as the connection was about to close, it opened up again into something more permanent, a tunnel, a link, a bond; two entities bound together by something mysterious and ethereal. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that the bull was tamed. I mentally, or maybe magically, told it to calm down, and I could feel it obey me.

Before I could celebrate my first successful magic spell, however, I was assaulted by cheers and whooping, calloused hands slapping my back and ruffling my hair, praising me for a job well done and questioning me why I hadn’t told them before. My eyes took in the sight of the guards surrounding me, shock and jubilation writ on their faces.

Ghosh, true to form, had already started to return to his bedroll after undoing the earthen clamps on my newly tamed bull. I even spotted Elius on the outskirts of those around me, giving me a nod and a smile, before he yelled at me with his combat voice to tell them what I was planning next time I tried a stunt like that.

I finally allowed myself to express my joy, my first real step towards power in this world, as I hollered and howled with everyone else.

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Ghosh laid on his bedroll for a while, trying to move the goods underneath him into a more comfortable position. Before he could feel the sweet embrace of sleep, his thoughts turned to the unfortunately-named boy, Rhaaj. The kid was rather impressive with his taming spell. Already whispering a spell, successfully taming an animal, and on the first try at that?

On average, going from reciting spell chants out loud to whispering chants took a few years. Even he himself took nearly two years to cross that bridge. And as had been noticed, the boy was young. Too young. His affinity for either taming or nature magic had to be immense if he was capable of that. Ghosh tried to remember to keep an eye on the boy going forward, but before the thought could take hold, he was sound asleep, comfortable in his dream.

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After the shock of me doing magic and the novelty of a newly tamed animal died down, the watch was peaceful for the rest of the night. According to the spell Khime gave me, any creature tamed using this spell can sustain themselves using my essence, both passively and actively, in addition to their usual diet.

So, throughout the day I would send some of my essence to my bull via the bond. In return, I received a general feeling of contentment from him. Even when I didn’t send my essence, I could sense him eating somehow. Maybe it was gorging on the environmental essence, or maybe I emitted essence passively, and the bull was taking advantage of it? It was another question I had no answer for, which further annoyed me.

I kept the bull beside me during the journey, somewhat reluctant to attempt riding it. I had heard the guards complain loudly and frequently about the pains of mounted travel and how it was nearly never worth it to sacrifice the future generation in exchange for saving some time.

There was a discussion amongst the guards on what the bull’s name should be. But after receiving and dismissing plenty of suggestions, I just decided to go with the simplest one I could think of: Bully. If he (I double-checked, just to make sure there was no weird magic or biology at work) could get strong enough, the name would be fitting. He also represented my first reliable source of safety in this world.

As we got closer and closer to our destination, the men, myself included, became more relaxed. Khobadaar was only two days away, the forward scouts reported. There were no bandits or animals targeting us, and the weather was as good as it would get for this season. Even the path had slowly changed from a worn-out dirt path to a properly paved road, wide enough for three of the convoy’s wagons to travel side by side.

So of course, life decided to screw with me right as I was getting comfortable.

“VORANDERS! VORANDERS! VORANDERS!” The lead guard screamed at the top of his lungs, bashing his sword and shield together, rousing the camp from the last vestiges of sleep. Everyone was wide awake within moments, hurriedly equipping themselves with arms and armor, trying their damndest to ignore the terror flooding through their minds.

I rushed to stand up from my sleeping position on the ground, clutching my borrowed shortsword, only wearing that flimsy robe that offered no protection whatsoever, Bully by my side. From what I recalled of my conversation with Khime, voranders were basically evil given life. They would do whatever they felt like in the moment.

And at the moment, it seemed like they wanted to kill us. Or eat us. Or kill us and eat us. Maybe eat us, then kill us? Trying to understand a being comprised solely of malevolence and chaos was idiotic to the utmost. The rambling I was going through in my head managed to slightly distract me from the fact that I might die violently and painfully in the very near future.

There was no time for fancy tactics or stratagems. Elius ordered the vanguard to form up behind the wagons, hoping to use them as a crude blockade. Losing the goods might cost them some coins, but everyone, even the merchants, was willing to make that trade if they could live to see tomorrow. The archers, and a pale-faced and sweaty Ghosh, were on top of a hastily constructed earthen pillar, providing them a better vantage point for their projectiles.

I was behind the vanguard but ahead of the pillar, nearly at the end of the vanguard’s left wing, where the enemies seemed to be less concentrated. A mercy from Elius, who just told me to try not to die, said without a single iota of levity in his voice.

The calm before the storm was most definitely not calm. Everyone was shouting something, some people were adjusting the straps on their armor, I could hear Elius’ booming voice shout something but I didn’t register it. The soldiers were chanting something, but I never heard it. All I could register was the wave of voranders sprinting towards us.

Their description as mindless monsters didn’t seem so apt to me when they were approaching us with the rising sun at their back, effectively blinding us. However, they were coming at us in the daytime when the light would get increasingly brighter, eliminating the natural advantage they would have in darkness, as their pitch black skin would offer them greater camouflage. I honestly couldn’t tell if they were intelligent or not, the two points contradicting each other.

They looked similar to goblins portrayed in fantasy stories: pointed ears, short stature, skinny limbs, somewhat humanoid appearance. They held no weapons, but I felt their teeth and nails, and perhaps even their stench, would be enough to triumph. They were snarling and growling, all manner of sounds escaping from them, promising a violent end.

Then after an eternity of waiting, they were upon us.

I had no time to consider an aversion to killing, or the sanctity of life or anything like that. My fight or flight response was triggered, and I committed to fight. Right now, it was kill or be killed. And I sure as shit did not want to be killed for maybe a second time.

I was relatively lucky. I only had to face them one at a time, with Bully guarding my more vulnerable left side. As the first one came at me, I gripped the shortsword in my right hand, and the bone dagger in my left, ready to engage. I let out a scream as I lunged and thrusted the shortsword right into the monster’s eye. Before I could even pull it out, I was beset by the next one, and had to let go of the weapon completely as I rushed to awkwardly fend it off with my offhand dagger. There was no time for me to consider anything else as it jumped at my face, its clawed hands pointed straight at me, and its eyes wide in anticipation. I dodged to the left and swiped with the dagger, leaving a shallow cut on its right shoulder that made it howl in outrage.

I punched it in the nose with my empty right hand, then ran past it to retrieve my shortsword while it was momentarily stunned. A quick stab to its back, and it collapsed. I only had a moment to breathe as the next enemy approached, black saliva dripping from its mouth as it let out unintelligible roars.

And just like that, I was baptized in the fires of combat.

The voranders just kept coming. No matter how injured they became, or how hopeless their prospect of survival, they didn’t stop attacking until they were put down for good. Even if their limbs were hacked off, they crawled forward, snapping their teeth in intimidation. The monsters had no self-preservation instinct, throwing themselves at me with all the abandon of a crude predator, falling onto my weapon if it meant they could get closer to tasting my succulent flesh.

As I became more familiar with their attack patterns, if they could be called that, I slowly realized they weren’t that hard to deal with individually. It was their swarming tactics that were the real problem, as it became increasingly rare to fight them one-on-one. Being swarmed by multiple enemies was when I took wounds.

The first time brought me closer to death than I would have liked. An inadvertent twist was all that separated my neck from being gouged out by a vorander’s teeth. I hadn’t even sensed it until I heard the gnashing of its teeth close to my ear. Usually, the monsters could be counted on to make some type of noise, but this one went off-script and deviated from what I could only assume was its inherent nature in order to land a blow on me. Chaotic did seem an apt descriptor for a creature that strayed from predictions. The wounds themselves didn’t hurt that much, at least initially, but as the fight dragged on, I felt less mobile and incapable of quick decision-making, and my fledgling fighting style became more defensive, as I only took pitiful swings when I was sure the blows would connect.

In the rare moments when I had a breath to relax, I could see nearly everyone else fighting a slew of the monsters. Everyone was either fending off three or four of them at a time, and I didn’t see any human bodies yet. I took that to mean no one had died so far.

I somehow managed to kill twenty voranders just by waving my shortsword around, but there were plenty more on the way, and I could already feel myself flagging. My kills were not without cost, as I had plenty of wounds all over me, draining my already limited stamina, and sending familiar twinges of pain throughout my body.

I could barely see the evil pricks, as rain began pouring down in sheets without any warning, but I blindly swung my blade, knowing I would at least take another one down. One of them did indeed go down, but it took my weapon with it, grabbing the blade while it was still inside its body and somehow corroding it. I lost my grip on the handle, my palms slick with sweat and blood, and the weapon was lost to me.

Yeah, I’m calling it. Time for a tactical retreat. No way I’m throwing hands with these fucking devils. At the very least, I can get behind the pillar and have Ghosh knock out a few of them.

Thunder boomed down around the battlefield, drowning out every other sound for a few seconds. There was no lightning, and the visibility was so poor, I couldn’t even determine where the pillar was.

I was knocked out of my line of thought by the sight of three voranders running towards me, glee visible on their faces as their tongues hung out and their eyes dilated expectantly. Bully impaled one on his horns and trampled another under his hooves, leaving one free to charge at me.

I was terrified and in pain, my heart frantically pounding in my chest, desperate to kill this thing that wanted me dead.

Desperate to just live.

But I had no weapon, no armor, no Bully to protect me. He was too busy trying to keep another fresh group of monsters off of himself, and too far away to reach me in time. I didn’t even have that bone dagger, as it was embedded in a monster’s chest somewhere, lost in the mound of tiny bodies.

I was tired and wounded, the combat finally pushing my body past the point of endurance. I fell to one knee, shakily trying to stand, and failing to rise, my legs dropped to the muddy field soaked in blood and rain and who knows what else.

Just as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, I saw the eyes of the monster only a few inches away from me. They were black, just like everything else about it, but they reminded me of another set of black eyes. A set of black eyes that were looking at me at that very moment, afraid of what they might see.

But I saw a glimmer of hope. A chance of survival.

I was desperate and the outcome was nearly a foregone conclusion, a million to one shot, but when the alternative was death? I would take those odds any day. Yeah, the house might always win, but you never push your luck against someone with nothing to lose. After all, a cornered beast is the most dangerous.

I whispered the words of power that I was gambling on to save my life, no attention given to how I pronounced them. I blasted my essence without any semblance of control at the being in front of me, and my desire to just live was so strong, it overshadowed every other feeling and sensation.

Even the sight of the vorander inexplicably disappearing right in front of me.

Or the cries of the victorious men, overjoyed to find themselves still amongst the living.

And the feeling of raindrops gradually washing away the blood and sweat of the carnage surrounding them.

But not the feeling of a link slowly fading away, dwindling into non-existence, one of its tethers gone forever.