Zensuon: Crystal Age

When Everything is Said and Done, Things can only get Worse

Where our duo recovers from their ordeal and faces a harder one.

The forest was cooler, denser, and harder to see in. Did it help them? Was the giant shadow able to sense the grand baetylus, or was it merely focused on it? Given its size, Mica assumed, it could likely feel it. It was bound to it somehow, the dragonkin would've probably known, but the shadow killed it.

He was on foot now, no more the immediate need to be held by the orc, by neither of them. Mica tried to look through the trees, just the bright light of the morning sun between the tree-tops momentarily dazing him with its shine in his eyes. He decided to stop.

He would start getting more worried when it was darker than it is now. They've been given a second chance, he just wondered about whoever or whatever attacked that giant shadow. Do they know about the grand baetylus? Are they going to come after him and the greenskin?

Mica glanced up at the orc, he was walking ahead, and the purplish-pinkish shine of the magic stones had become lessened. Mica gave a faint smile, hoping somewhere inside of him this means the shadow is farther away, given how brightly these things glowed when it was on them.

However, Mica looked at the orc's still expression and frowned. Nuraka was willing to put them both at risk for these stones. I get why to some extent, but that's still fucked up. I hate orcs. At least this one is somewhat useful some of the time, perhaps he'll make it all of the time soon enough.

They'd scattered far enough into the forest and away from the main road that the sound of the panicked crowd was gone. Hopefully, the shadow's enemy couldn't find them either. While Mica would like the shadow enemy's help, hopefully in exchange for the crystals, if whatever it was taken down the shadow, what chance would he have to fairly trade with them? They would also just take it.

As for the crowd, he would not go as far as to risk having two massive baetylus too long in a panicked crowd that's likely to turn into a mob to avert its anger somewhere. An orc and a halfling carrying some very valuable items would be a perfect target for some people who just lost their homes and all of their possessions.

This means they'll have to rest it out in the forest today and try to sneak in tomorrow toward the next town. He should've gotten a map, but all roads lead somewhere, right? That's the best he had to go on.

Mica sighed, knowing another night not in a bed was awaiting him.

He glanced up at Nuraka. "Why is that thing worth your life?"

Nuraka didn't stop walking but turned half of his head back, and grunted.

Then continued head first. His axe prompted on his shoulder, and the blade by his ear, as if ever certain of where to head next.

Great. Mica disgruntledly realized. He only talks when he wants to, or maybe he's smarter than he looks, and just knows when it's best to grunt?

Mica shook his head, he was overthinking things.

***

Late afternoon came, and a fire was set. The tool sat down in front of him, trying to explain to him what shifts in guarding mean. The tool was unable to understand the grunts and nods were signs of approval. The small tool looked tired, but he took the first shift at the light so that Nuraka would guard in darkness, the tool was no fool- that is why it was a useful one, even if difficult to control.

Words, or as the orc called them- decisions- ran through Nuraka's mind.

The crackling of fire accompanied these decisions. The orc did not have thoughts, not wandering or doubtful- Thoughts were for the fleeting, those who had time. He had to make choices quickly or die. In fact, thoughts were so irrelevant to the orc since decisions simply came to him, precise and direct, which the orc never doubted.