Never Live In Bayden

 

Rasdar and Abran had been traveling for nearly a month, headed north towards Valdur. It was long and strenuous, but they had to make it. Something urged them on. They weren’t sure if it was knowledge or curiosity, but it was strong. They did not know what awaited them and though the adventurers in them pushed them forward, their minds fought with their feet, urging them to turn back. No one had ever set foot on Valdur and came back to tell of his findings, of course, the two had shrugged it off as myth. However, as they came closer and closer to their goal, it was more denial than anything else that pushed the stories from their minds.

 Their camp was set on the coast of Almead Island just south of Valdur and their hopes were set on a full nights rest before they swam across the shallow waters, leading their horses would be difficult as they would be frightened easily by the large fish brushing against their legs. The sun had set more than an hour ago and with it, it had taken every source of light. No stars shined, even the moon was black. Rasdar had set up their camp on the grass that outlined the beach, the tide came in high and they didn’t want to take any chances of losing their gear or, worse, the two of them being dragged out to sea.

“Well, if we leave tomorrow mid-morning, we should reach the heart of Valdur by sundown.” Abran’s voice sounded dry. He had left his better years behind him and now. Nearing his fiftieth birthday, he was set on having his last adventure fulfilled. It was his goal in life to map every corner of Drachmere. He had seen all of Ironhollow, the Byden Islands. Hell, he’d seen most of Morden, which was more than most men could attest for. Abran was not a weak man, his body was still thick with muscles that he had earned from his service to the King and had maintained throughout his travels. The only indicator of his age was his long silver hair, that he kept pulled back, and a beard that matched.

Rasdar looked out across the water, he couldn’t even see the outline of Valdur. He gave a low grunt as response to Abran’s statement and stoked the fire with driftwood he had found earlier. He wouldn’t have normally joined Abran on his adventures, he thought the man was insane. But he couldn’t refuse his mothers pleas to follow his uncle. Rasdar was sure his mother wanted to toughen him up more than keep an eye on the old man, but there was no point in protesting; she would have won in the end like always. Rasdar had lived his entire life in Aldenhurst, never venturing further than the outlying plains to hunt Caripon to sell at his stall. He did not have the same adventuring spirit his Uncle had and it was not in his nature to gripe. He knew his uncle would just dismiss him anyways.

“You never know what you’re missing till ya go see it for yourself.” Abran would tell Rasdar. Oddly enough, Rasdar had become excited about Valdur as they came closer to it, though he would never admit it. Something inside him had started to surface as Uncle Abran told him more and more about Valdur.

Abran put up the rumpled map he had been studying and put it back into its roll. “Best get to sleep.” He covered himself with a scratchy blanket and rolled over, facing away from the fire. “And snuff that fire. There are things out here that might find it a meal invitation.” Rasdar grabbed a bucket of sand he had scooped from the beach and poured it over the fire, annoyed that he had just wasted his time gathering all that wood for nothing.

_____

 

                Rasdar was startled awake by a rustling sound coming from the trees behind their camp. He surveyed the area, squinting to see through the thick black to no avail. He looked over to where his uncle had fallen asleep and watched for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. He sat upright and stilled his body, listening closely. Another rustle came. He saw a movement behind a bush on the far corner of the open area. He uncovered himself and crawled toward his uncle.

“Uncle Abran, wake up!” He had tried to whisper, shaking his uncle vigorously. Abran woke with a snort.

“What is it boy?” groggily, Abran turned toward Rasdar. Normally it would have angered Rasdar to be called a boy, he was twenty! But right now, he was more afraid than anything else. He was ashamed of himself, getting scared over a rustling bush. But he remembered what his uncle had told him numerous times.

 “If you ever see a creature this far north, run. Don’t look back because it will get you. Don’t scream because it will chase faster.” His face was deadly serious when he said these words. “There are no good things that can come from this area. The people who live in Bayden must be daft to live up here.”

“There’s something in the woods.” This time he succeeded in his whisper. He could see Abran’s eyes widen as he sprang up, grabbing his sword he kept at his side. He unsheathed it, “Rasdar, grab your blade.” Without hesitation, Rasdar obeyed and before he could register it, he was at his bag grabbing it.

The two men stood, motionless, facing the direction of the noises. Yet another rustle sounded, this time a shadow darted between trees. It was so fast, they couldn’t make out a shape they could recognize. The only thing they were sure of was that it wasn’t human in the least. Abran tried to step back but his feet betrayed him and he found himself headed towards the shadow’s hiding place. Rasdar followed, reluctantly.

“Shouldn’t we run?” Rasdar’s voice was shaky, if he wasn’t completely terrified before, he was now. Abran shushed him and moved closer, regretting it as he heard a twig snap beneath his worn boot. The shadow came out from the tree and stepped towards them. A rattling sound emanated from the shadow and as it came closer, they could see it wasn’t a shadow at all. It was much worse. It was an arachalid.

Its eight black legs narrowed to a point and its white upper body almost appeared human if it weren’t for the lack of features on its imitation of a face. It stood about seven feet tall and did not look at all pleased with the two of them. The rattling sound came again and Rasdar noticed that the sound was coming from the creature’s chest where it was rubbing two thick vibrissae together.

Terror filled the two adventurers. Abran’s feet finally obeyed him and he backed away, falling backwards. He continued to peer up at the creature. Rasdar reached down and grabbed his uncle by the collar and dragged him back slowly. The Arachalid continued to inch towards them blindly, jerking its blank head left and right. It continued to click as if it were trying to find the source of the noise.

Abran was now on his feet but Rasdar still held his top, fearing that if he let go, his uncle would be eaten alive in front of him. They were almost to their horses and there was plenty of space between them and the creature. If they managed to climb the horses quietly enough they would be able to outride the Arachalid. But as Rasdar grabbed the reigns of his horse it looked up, noticing the creature, and was spooked. It whinnied and kicked, freeing itself from his grasp and rode off.

The arachalid heard this and raced toward the horse, catching it almost effortlessly. The front to legs of the creature stabbed into the back of the horse, downing it almost instantly. The sounds of crunching bones filled the air and the smell of blood hit their noses. The other horse was now alerted and tried to rush off but headed onto the beach, trapping itself in the wet sand from where the tide had rose. The arachalid lifted its false head and seemed to look towards the horse stuck in the sand. It walked to the edge of the grass and as it took a step forward, its tapering claw sunk deep into the sand. It stepped back and examined the area with its rattling. The stuck horse neighed and the creature lifted its thorax, facing away from the horse with its back legs braced into the ground. The arachalid began to crush into itself and a fluorescent chemical shot out of its backend. As the fluid hit the horse, it seemed to fold around him like a net. They watched in horror as the chemical began to burn away the horses flesh until there was nothing but a pile of dark bones where it had been.

They were completely terrified and now they were stranded. Their only hope had just destroyed itself and now they were at the mercy of the creature. Abran remembered what he knew about the creature. It was fast, lethal and if you were caught off guard, you were as good as dead. How they had survived this long was beyond him, but he also knew how they could get the upper hand. Sure it could kill them instantly if it heard them, but if they managed to get close enough they could cut through its soft carapace easily. This creature was a predator but it relied solely upon its attack power. Any other creature might topple it easily, but a human? They had to hope the gods were watching their backs.

He couldn’t voice his knowledge to Rasdar and hoped the boy knew about this creature in advance. Abran looked to him and saw him nod slowly. The creature was back at the first horse it killed, stabbing its legs into it again. It made a terrible noise as it stood above it, doing something. Abran knew what it was doing. It was dissolving the insides of the poor horse with a toxin you hoped you were never inflicted with. Once it had finished with its toxin, it removed its leg which Rasdar now took to be less of a leg and more of a vessel. The horse looked as if it were just a bag of liquid, he wondered why the flesh hadn’t dissolved and spilled its contents onto the grass but didn’t think of it for long.

The arachalid’s head, he had once thought as featureless, seemed to split into two and a giant curled proboscis extended from the opening. It flapped around as if it had a life of its own for a moment and then it flopped lazily onto the ground, still attached. The end of it moved along the ground, finding the horse, and sliding itself into the hole left behind by the vessel. It seemed to drink the gelatinized insides of the horse. The horse’s body began to crush into itself as liquid slid up the proboscis and into the creature’s body. Rasdar wanted to gag but couldn’t bring up vomit for fear of making a noise as it splashed on the ground below him.

Abran grabbed Rasdar’s shoulder and squeezed it tight. If they were going to have a chance at killing this thing, it would be now. Rasdar seemed to understand and Abran made signals to him that he had taught him before they left for this very reason. Rasdar nodded and braced himself, gripping the sword in his hands so tightly that they started to hurt. He dared not breathe heavily for fear the thing would hear.

Abran ran at the creature as silently as he could and when he reached it, he slung his sword deep into the back of it. It released a sound that must have been its way of screaming and crunched up, spitting the chemical at Abran’s face. He ducked just in time for it to go over his shoulder and removed his weapon from the arachalid, turning to stab it again in the side. Rasdar saw it as his time to join and ran up onto the creature’s other side.

He sliced its side open, spilling its fluorescent innards onto the grass and his foot. He screamed in pain as he noticed his boot melting away like the horse. He kicked it off as fast as he possibly could, but it had already penetrated his skin. He felt the pain seer through his foot and looked to his uncle who had seen it all. Abran dug his sword deeper into the creature’s side and the creature began to buckle under itself. Rasdar rolled away from the collapsing creature as its loud shrieking started to fade off.

Abran removed his sword and kicked the creature in the torso. “Thank the gods! It’s dead.” He almost laughed as he spoke but stopped as he heard Rasdar groan. He ran to the side of the boy and examined his foot. “You’re lucky, you may be able to use this foot again.” The bone had been exposed and the surrounding flesh had been cauterized. Abran removed his tunic and wrapped it around Rasdar’s wound. He went back to the camp and grabbed one of the packs, removing a pouch of Foster leaves. He gave one to Rasdar who shoved it in his mouth and began to chew it.

Realizing that they had defeated the beast, they shared in a laugh. After a moment, Abran helped Rasdar up, handed him the pack, and led him to the beach to soak his leg in the water. As soon as they made it past the second horse, they heard a chilling sound. It was a chorus of rattles. Abran turned to look at the camp and fear struck him.

_____

 

Arachalids were standing on the camp, maybe a dozen or so of them. Abran’s heart weakened, how could he forget that shriek? That shriek! It was a call for help! Arachalids rarely travel far from others in case of something like this. He turned back slowly, facing the water.

They had to try for Valdur. Without the horses it would be easier, but Rasdar was wounded. ‘He’ll be more than wounded if we stay here.’ he thought. How far was it? It couldn’t have been more than a couple miles, they could make it. They had to make it.

He spoke as quietly as his hoarse voice would allow, “We have to go, boy. Now!”

Rasdar didn’t even nod, but began to run as fast as he could with Abran’s help. Abran looked back, they had heard the splashes from their steps and were heading to the water’s edge. He sped up, Rasdar tripped but caught himself before he fell and continued with him. Without looking back, he knew the creatures were testing the sand the same as the first had and they needed to get out of range.

They continued to run, reaching deeper water. Rasdar was afraid, but not so afraid as to go dumb. He had the bag! He looked over his shoulder to see the creatures still testing the sand and tossed the bag to their left as hard as he could. The creatures heard this and turned to aim. ‘It worked!’ He thought. They were swimming now and Abran no longer needed to hold onto Rasdar. Fluorescent liquid rained down to their left and after a pause more shrieks came from behind them. The noises faded as they continued to swim and when they were sure they were out of reach, they stopped to catch their breath.

Bobbing in the water, they turned and watched as the creatures paced the beach line. They were shadows in the distance, moving rigidly as if mechanical. They breathed a sigh of relief and began swimming towards Valdur once again at a steady pace.

They reached the shore of Valdur at dawn. They were exhausted and as they climbed onto the slimy rocks, they were fighting sleep.

“We did it, uncle.” Rasdar spoke, gasping for breath. He looked at Abran who didn’t seem to be as elated as his nephew.

“No, son.” His face went pale. “We lost all our gear, our horses, and we have no food. If we hadn’t had to toss that bag to save our lives, we might have had a chance.” He lifted Rasdar off of the rocks after reaching stable ground. The two of them sat on the packed dirt and looked out over Valdur. The small country was covered in tall grass and scattered trees. Large birds flew over head, they seemed to sing to them. A smile almost crept over their faces, but then they heard a loud roar coming from the horizon. They looked out towards the source and couldn’t see anything, the trees had grown tighter together.

“Uncle,” Rasdar said. “We’re not going to be going home, are we?” His voice was that of a small child. He wouldn’t be offended by being called boy now.

Abran stood and surveyed the area. The image of the serene oasis they were ready to call this land quickly faded. The birds who had flew over head came into view. They had jagged teeth that hung out of their mouths in a disorganized fashion. The trees that dotted the horizon didn’t seem to hold leaves. Abran’s voice was so low, Rasdar could barely hear him. “No, boy. I don’t think we are.”

 

Reviews

[Britt Foster]

This was very exciting! Great job; I really enjoyed reading this. I feel quite bad for Rasdar and Abran though...I can only assume that they end up dead. Sad!

I do believe that you should continue this; you could even make it into a novel if you wanted to. Start from the beginning when they are at home and describe their journey to Valdur more slowly. As it is, it seems like its just a chapter/excerpt from a novel because of the whole arachalid fight being so detailed. This story could make a very promising novel!

Again, very good work here. I loved it. VERY well-written and gripping. :]