In that forsaken place, the Forest itself sought to reclaim him—
but the devil clung fast, gnawing at the master’s soul.
The winds cried out.
The beasts rose to his defense.
But to no avail—the devil had entwined him fully,
feeding upon his blood, his myth, his being.
Yet before the last dregs of Gru’s spirit could be devoured,
there came two saints:
Gloria, of beauty.
Joya, of strength.
Together they battered the devil away,
and in their arms Gru was carried into the shade of the Forest once more.
There, he drank of its nectar.
There, he mended.
And together, they began the long walk to reclaim his kingdom.
The ship flew over the area at a fair height out of sight, honing in on the signal that Kildra had detected. Radiating power signals that she was somehow familiar with narrowed down their search considerably.
"What is this place Kildra?"
"My lab. From the time before Chen. Nothing to worry about but there is something there that I would like to retrieve."
"It's been hundreds of years. It's probably been salvaged by now."
"Oh I highly doubt it, and if it was I will simply track it down and kill whoever stole it"
Chen let out a sigh, thinking about yet another situation just waiting for him to de-escalate.
The ship landed at the edge of the Forest of Gru. Its landing pads deployed with one leg under each of the wings and the third underneath the bulbous head of the ship's cabin as it hovered for a few seconds smoothly descending on top of its desired landing area. The ship was a thing of beauty as its curved silver body contrasted with the plain grass-covered knoll they had landed on.
They exited the middle of the ship through the hatch door—opening up and out from the middle of the body. Kildra had already turned into her mist form and snuck into Chen’s mouth and nose with a small sigh of content only-she-could-hear. Chen had insisted in not allowing her to do that. He said he liked owning his own body.
Of course as she always did it when she could, she would just wait until Chen started to say something to move in—like clockwork resulting in a cough, gag and swatting fit. For her it was a small, familiar, contentment. He was her Charge—called Heralds now—and as such her right to co-occupy his body.
Chen swore in the Tekniak language. Kildra still didn't understand where he knew it from, assuming it was from his past life before she raised him. A ramp could be extended, but he simply jumped off the stoop landing with a small bounce from the meter high fall.
With a word or two and a click on his arm's small data-pad, he placed the ship in standby mode. When they moved past a certain clearance distance the autopilot would kick in bringing the ship up into the atmosphere. The ship would then fly into the stratosphere, breaking the sound barrier a few times over, eventually climbing into the exosphere, and moving into a stationary position above the forest to wait for the return signal—a new satellite for an old world.
“This place seems so familiar to me. Like from a dream,” Chen said as he looked around the knoll they were climbing.
“Yes. Look,” Kildra said, signaling him toward a direction of her choosing. “The actual terrain has changed. So much more moisture than I last recorded. The pH levels are so high now too. I bet those natives have a really bad case of athlete’s foot right now,” she chattered into his ear.
He was about to ask again about the last time they were here when they crested the knoll—and saw they were not alone.
A wood and brick structure covered in vines that surrounded the entire large looking facility. The side of the one floor edifice it ran about 100 foot in each direction from the middle placed entry. The entry itself was blocked off except for a small passage, as if the forest itself allowed someone entry.
The Forest of Gru had seemingly leaned over to encage the facility. It looked like the Forest was protecting a small child the way the vines leaned over into the structure from the forest itself.
Inside the facility they saw two people working at a popup table, looking over documents. The first a small blonde Tekniak, or Space-elf, reading a book while messing around with what looked like a belt of some sort.
An unmistakably painful belt, if the jagged hooks that popped up from the inside, were any indicator. He could see this sharply as the belt was laid out on its back revealing its inner workings as she prodded and poked.
Behind her, looking ever the bored husband, was a broad, if short by Chen's height, man. Maybe standing five foot eight inches tall, his shoulder span nearly dwarfed his companion. He could easily lift her up and around his shoulders and still have room for a bag or two. An obvious brawler.
The brawler, while looking bored, was anything but inattentive, immediately spotting Chen entering the dwelling and rising to attention.
Drawing a short axe, he moved to block Chen from the elf.
A larger, more intimidating axe rested behind him, but it wasn’t a good choice for an indoor fight.
This man was not only strong—but smart.
“Ja! Hol’ thair, stranger!” he shouted, taking a guarded stance with the mid-length axe.
Chen stood, observing him carefully, lifting his left hand slowly in a hold gesture.
In his right he held his polearm.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The roof was about sixteen feet high—he would have no trouble maneuvering here—except for the scattered remnants of furniture and other debris.
Longer weapons weren’t ideal in tight quarters.
But that only mattered if you cared about wrecking the surroundings.
Chen was fairly certain he could—and would—smash through anything if needed.
The elf startled, swiping her belt across her chest and moving further back. Apparently having had these experiences in the past, and knowing the proper routine. She wasn’t an up-close fighter and was probably reaching for a ranged weapon.
The assumption paid off seconds later as he saw her pull out a mechanical hodgepodge of a gun and pointed it at him from almost directly behind the brawler. She wasn't going to get a clear shot, so she was probably just holding it for self defense rather than to assist the brawler. She was a researcher it seemed, not a fighter.
"Hold," Chen said, still holding his hand high. "My companion holds claim of this land from past ownership. We are here to reclaim an item and then we will be on our way."
He could feel Kildra becoming incensed with the idea of parlaying with scavengers in what she perceived as her home, but he ignored her.
Always better for partnerships in his mind than a bloodbath.
He’d already had… so. many. bloodbaths.
They were here to win hearts and minds, and bloodbaths would only be a Pyrrhic victory the diplomats would not welcome.
“Pryor owner?! Bah! Lyor!
This land’s cursed—Forest itself guards it!”
Spittle pushed out from his mouth, his face turning a fierce red.
His muscles seemed to expand, his body thrumming with rage—a berserker, it seemed.
“No soul jus’ walks in an’ claims it!”
He raised his axe out of its first guard position and into an attack stance.
A quiet peep came from the elf in the back, her trembling hand struggling to steady the contraption she held.
“Hold!” Chen said, more steel in his voice this time.
He shifted into a defensive stance—subtle, invisible to the untrained eye—and thumbed the activation switch on his polearm.
The entire area shuddered under the sudden pressure of the emitted field.
Kildra whined inside his skull, “Oh, not that thing again! Just shoot them with your gun and get it over with.”
Her patience was wearing thin, and Chen knew he needed to de-escalate quickly—before she decided to act for him.
Luckily, he also knew she was loath to act unless directly disrespected. And the fact that these people were studying her things? That still counted as a form of reverence, however minor.
He could sell that to her. For now.
The elf’s eyes flew wide at the oppressive pulse of the field. She dropped her pistol—if that’s what it was—scrambling forward to touch the brawler’s shoulder and pull him back.
“Joya, no! Relax!” she hissed in Tekniak. “My love—we cannot win this.” she whispered even lower.
“Me… me, cann’t…” he stammered, fear now plain on his face.
Chen understood immediately. Berserkers needed to fight once roused. The hormonal surge had to burn off—or else it could kill them.
“Haha!” Chen laughed, flashing a “follow me” look as he spoke. “A spar then!? Take your battle axe and join me!”
He gestured outside.
“Umm, ja—much obliged,” Joya said, a “what-the-hell-is-happening” look aimed at his wife as he followed Chen toward the knoll.
His wife trailed after, clutching her strange belt to her chest like a lifeline.
“Fine then! Do your stupid thing you always do, Chen! But—you beat him senseless.”
"Fine. Joya, we will do a true spar. No killing blows, but I warn you I will beat you senseless, as instructed by my companion."
"Who is this companion you keep talking about?" the elf called from behind.
"My Wisp Kildra" Chen said nonchalantly
"By Gru! Ja be one o' them cultists!" Joya snarled, his voice rising.
"No, I don't actually like them to be honest. Bunch of hanger-ons to be honest." Chen said finding a clear area for the spar. Only a few large vines laid about, thrumming with power—some seeming to move aside for him—his imagination for sure.
"Here—before he gets worse," Chen said, disabling his polearm’s aura and twirling it lightly as he shifted into stance.
"You have a Wisp?" the elf asked, incredulous. "They're extinct, a memory for the cult". But no one was listening anymore, as Joya charged Chen with a roar, his mighty axe above his head, clearly going for a killing move."
"I assure you..." Chen said as he parried the giant chop with a lower half swing of his staff, letting the man run with his own momentum into the ground, axe biting deep into the earth. Chen slapped his butt hard—that would bruise badly he knew—but he wanted to let him know and remember how much of a pain in the butt this whole fiasco is to him and it seemed this was a more then ironic way of doing it.
"...I am a Herald of the Wisp" he said deflecting another mighty center swipe from the rapidly exhausting man. The axe went wide pulling its wielder to the left with it. Chen stepped in, leg chopped him from behind tripping him to the ground.
Almost faster than the eye could follow, he hurled the axe far from its owner and leapt onto him, perched just above his chest. The larger man then began to dominate the other punching his solar plexus on his chest—forcing the man to gasp for air.
"Do you yield?" Chen would ask between punches.
"Playing with your food is so beneath you" Kildra sent to him.
"Go freck off wisp lover" Joya rattled off.
"Hardly that," Chen mumbled back
"What!?" Kildra spit back "Don't you love me Chen?" She said like a little kid asking for the love of her parent. A rare gap in her emotional armor.
"Sure" Chen said aloud.
"You feck yer Wisp?!" Joya barked between a punch to the face and another to the sternum."
"No, you idiot. I was talking to her," Chen said hitting slightly harder then meaning to. "Now yield!"
Joya gasped at the last punch, which Chen simply waited for his response. It was apparent he was done. In a real fight, maybe a death-push would give him a few more minutes of adrenaline—at the cost of his life. But this was just a spar.
"Her?" Joya gasped out "Ja do feck'er!"
Chen looked over at the elf. "Really? Is he always like this?"
A blush came to her face as she raised her hand to her eyes. "Yes. This is very much him" she said with a sigh.
"I win." Chen said poking the other man Adam’s apple hard enough for Joya to cough.
"Aye"
Chen got up and helped Joya to his feet. The man stood, exhausted, his posture sagging into a stoop—ready for a good night’s sleep, and maybe even a sleep-in after that.
“I am called Gloria, my husband Joya." she said gesturing to the man next to her.
"So… about this Wisp. Can... can we see her?”
Chen had to act here—both diplomatically and strategically.
Kildra was inside his body and reluctant to come out whenever she managed to get such a perch. He had to tickle her fancy a bit to make it happen.
“My Wisp is named Kildra,” he said. “And you seem to study her lab, so I can see you are a great fan of her and her work—but she is a very sensitive… umm… uh… person.”
He looked at the elf while saying this, giving a subtle “go with it” look—and she, being the smart elf she was, picked it up immediately.
“Oh, of course! Her inventions and the technological remnants in the Betrayer’s Repose are miraculous.
I would love to talk to the actual, uh, person who made them—though surely they are long since dead.”
An air of nanites vomited from Chen’s mouth, forming into a large falcon—talons out, beak screaming.
“Betrayer’s Repose!? Betrayer? Me?!
I wasn’t the one betrayed here!
They betrayed me!
I got even! I’ll kill them! I’ll raise them and kill them again—all over again!
And I’ll start with you—parasite!”
The falcon rose into the air, just as the world blacked out.
But darkness, once loosed, does not flee so easily.
The soul, wounded by unseen fangs, must either mend—or rot.
And so Gru was cast low once again—
Not by sword, nor by flame,
But by the Forest itself, and the hidden poisons of his own forgotten tomb.
Would the Forest’s mercy—and the stubborn hands of strangers—lift him once more?