Chapter 2-12

We had very little warning. Encamped for evening training, I held class while the goats wandered to forage. Myta’s servants, the former slaves of Cathel, served our company. I hadn’t gotten to know them well yet, but they had apparently decided to serve as camp followers. Cooking, cleaning, caring for the goats, and maintaining our equipment.

Myta and Hati insisted that our fighters not get lazy, but the extra time was welcome. Teaching a number of career soldiers about the intricacies of mana, anima, and sorcery was difficult. Many lacked real aptitude for the learning, but they were dedicated. In my experience persistence would trump talent nine times out of ten.

The evening was calm and pleasant. The night birds and insects were just beginning to sing, when an abrupt hush swept across our surroundings. I I failed to mark it at first, wrapped up as I was in my lecture. Denu’s restlessness was what disturbed my flow. Our young ranger was normally one of my most attentive students, so her distraction brought me up short.

In the absence of my voice, the silence of the forest was obvious, and oppressive.

Then the goats began screaming. First just two of them, then a handful, and then the entire herd was crying out. The bolted into the trees while I cast my spiritual senses out. Trying, and failing, to find the source of their distress. The company pulled out of their shock, forming up around the civilians. Myta grabbed me by the arm, pulling me into the ring of warriors, when I finally caught the whisper.

It was a blur, a smear or shimmer in the mana around us. I could just barely taste the coppery tang of blood from it, the rank scent of fear, and the gnawing pain of hunger. I’d seen effects like this before, generated by the distorting edge of a ward, or the powers of a spirit.

The enemy circled around us, and I had no doubt it was an enemy. It tried to pace about and take us unawares as the company faced in the direction the goats had avoided. But Myta shared my awareness, and as the thing circled, she directed her warriors to adjust. Tension rose as none of us, myself included, had any idea what kind of foe we were facing.

The air grew thick with the smell of rotting blood, and it conjured forth our memories of fighting demons in the dim ruins beneath Bani. Sati and the servants, who had not been party to that claustrophobic horror, stifled whimpers between them. But for most of us the memory was oddly fortifying. We had already faced down demons, and emerged triumphant.

Our stalker grew impatient as they realized we could detect them, however vaguely. I began to see glimpses of something moving in the trees. Something large, and incredibly fast. The company reacted well. Our warriors maintained their calm and divided their attention to all sides of their protective ring. The squad leaders understood that most of them couldn’t possibly compete with that level of speed.

I dropped into a light meditation between one breath and the next, feeding my mana into the group. I gave Sati a gentle pull, requesting her aid as well. After a long moment of indecision, she lent her strength to the effort as well.

Her mana was like nothing else I’d ever felt before. No, that was a lie. It was similar in many ways to that of her father, King Ramana. But far different to anything I’d wielded before. That didn’t matter, however. I wasn’t trying to use her mana, just gently redirect it to empower our fighters. They weren’t sorcerers yet, but now they all had fully awakened spirits. Just having the mana to fuel their efforts would elevate them far beyond mortal warriors.

Our enemy roared. The strangely human-sounding roar of a great jungle cat. It flashed into our line, a blur of russet and black fur. I had the impression of flashing teeth and claws, and then blood sprayed. Just as fast as it had struck, it had withdrawn, leaving a screaming warrior in its wake. Her arm was torn off at the shoulder, and her presence had been entirely stripped away within the span of a single strike.

Jito was there in an instant, pulling the wounded soldier to me. I was still in my light meditation, so it only took me a moment to staunch her bleeding and put her into a healing sleep.

“We couldn’t touch it! Our blades passed right through!” One of the men cried, the edge of panic in his voice was plain. My mind raced as I tried to sort through the possibilities, even as I felt our foe drinking in the mana of blood and fear their attack had produced.

*Myta,* I spoke in her mind for the sake of speed and clarity. *You must channel your flames through the company’s weapons, while I condense their presence. This is a spirit, or something like a spirit.*

I reached through my connections, taking control of my vasras’ presences. It was a strain on my focus, but the fact that they were all flush with my mana helped. Each of their spirits exuded a thin layer of mist, and I took that mist and drew it about their bodies, thickening it as much as I could manage.

My efforts came none too soon, as the creature struck again, flashing out of the darkness once more in a blur of blood and fear. Guiding the presence of the company, I was able to sense the attack far better, and I shoved my own presence at it as well, trying to entangle and slow its movements.

I lost my focus on condensing the company’s presences and I had difficulty following what happened next. The beast crashed into our line once more, but my efforts to slow it were far more effective than I had expected. Instead of applying my own presence, all of the mana I had been condensing focused around our enemy. Their mana blended with mine seamlessly, as though we were not a score of individuals synchronizing our efforts, but instead as if they were simply an extension of me.

Our foe struggled abruptly, as though moving through cold honey, at least compared to their previous speed. Multiple glaives lashed out, their edges burning fitfully, and multiple wounds tore into the hide of the beast. Certainly not enough to kill it, but enough to send it reeling back.

I pitted my will against it, soaking up most of the loose mana the clash created. I had a moment to take stock of our enemy, and what I saw shook me. It wasn’t the mangy fur, or near skeletal appearance. The blood stained coat was expected, as were the outsized teeth and claws, which tore through the creature’s own flesh as it was attacking us.

No, what disturbed me was that the figure looked familiar. A great cat, covered in an intricate spotted pattern, that radiated a fierce pride despite its debased condition. As if Ket, my former spirit-advisor, had swelled to eight times her normal size and transformed into a demon.

I was almost sure it wasn’t her. Almost.

An instant later and the abomination pulled back, regaining their speed as they exited easy reach of the presence I controlled. I saw that another of our fighters had gone down with a shredded thigh, but he was dragged into the center of the ring by the camp followers, and Cata worked to staunch his bleeding. I couldn’t spare any time to assist, as the creature attacked again. Again I slowed it, but this time I wasn’t caught unprepared by the amount of presence that was answering my call.

This… thing was definitely more mana than flesh, and so my efforts were incredibly effective. As though the presence I wielded was wool batting. Soft, and not enough to stop the thing’s movements entirely. But when applied liberally it slowed and restricted every move our foe made. To the point that it moved moved no faster than a mortal human.

This time no fewer than four glaives pierced the flesh of the beast, and Myta’s control felt more certain as the blades surged with her mana. The great cat roared again, its flesh and fur smoldering with the scent of burning garbage. The flesh then burned away with the speed and intensity of dry tinder.

Surprised, the fighters stumbled, unprepared for the sudden release of their weapons. In the confusion another two received heavy blows, but the abomination ignored them in favor of another target. Rather than finishing out downed soldiers, it came charging straight at me. Its brutal claws dug into the ground as it flang itself violently toward me, defying the pressure of the presence I had harnessed.

I was off balance and slow, distracted by my focus on the spiritual side of the fight. I tried to dodge, which saved me from the creature’s jaws, but its paw still caught my shoulder. It drove me to the ground, toes wrapping around my limb with almost the dexterity of human fingers. The paw was so large that the claws hooked around the edges of my shoulder blade, barely missing my spine.

I cried out, pulling every ounce up presence I could grasp as tightly around me as I could. The abomination actually shrank, compressed by the mana, and its claws twisted beneath my skin from the distortion.

The company piled onto the beast as it moved slower still, but their weapons passed through its flesh as if through water. Lacking the empowerment of Myta’s flames.

Sati hurled her sorcery at the creature. Crescents of iridescent mist that appeared to do nothing, other than make it scream and flail. Unfortunately that meant the hooked claws in my back tore brutally through my muscles, and grated against bone. My flesh was tough enough to keep my arm attached for now, but that wouldn’t last long once the abomination righted itself.

I lashed out with my lancet, but it was a surgical instrument, not a sword. The partially spiritual nature of our foe meant that my blade was effective, but only as effective as cutting a tree with a table knife. Such a small blade, no matter how sharp, just couldn’t make a great impact. When I used it in combat, it was for precision strikes to **** nodes or meridians. I couldn’t sense any of those here.

In desperation I used my only other ability that was of any use in combat. A swirling vortex of mana formed in my free hand, and I shoved it against the limb that now pinned me to the ground. Perhaps, if I were immensely lucky, I could drain some of the mana from this monster. Weaken its hold on me.

Instead the beast screamed, as its flesh tore apart. Shredding completely like dry, rotten sackcloth. Beneath the animalistic fur and flesh, I briefly saw a human hand, emerging from the dismembered limb as though it were the arm of a costume.