Argo's knees finally gave out thanks to the shock, fear, and horror he was experiencing, as this was something from a nightmare, and no one told him about these things. He fell backward, palms scraping grass, staring at the carnage. Black blood steamed in the moonlight, pooling around the shredded corpses.
The smell was thick as fog seeped into his lungs. Seconds later, the creepy laughter curled closer, as if their breaths brushed against his ear. ''Run if you like. We'll savor the chase and enjoy ourselves.''
The fear clawed at him as the creature's very existence was an insult against life; they were creepy and set off something primal deep inside him. He fought it, teeth gritted, until the black lion appeared, bringing him back to reality as Athena's voice rang in his mind. 'Get on his back, run! Artemis, shield them; help me hold the Night People at bay!'
Argo shook his head clear, vaulted onto the lion's back. Once there, Aslan exploded forward, a streak of muscle slicing through the forest, getting away from the Night People. Shadows lunged from the trees, creepy humanoids with too many teeth, but the beast twisted, dodged, a living thunderbolt.
Artemis burst from the underbrush, claws raking eyes into one of the creature's bodies, forcing blood to fly everywhere, covering trees and bushes. Athena dove, talons shredding the creature's face. Each strike bought more time, bought them breath. He risked a glance back only to go wide-eyed when seeing the Night People chasing him.
He noticed the forest swallowed the carnage, as Aslan thundered north, paws drumming the earth like war drums, allowing them to escape from the creepy humanoids. Then the Grey Owl's voice cut through the chaos. 'Don't stop until the first settlement. They won't follow that far.'
Following that, the American Lion continued running until Argo spotted a Varna settlement in the distance, fires circling the wooden walls to keep the beasts at bay, as night was dangerous on this world thanks to all his experience over the years. By the time they passed it and reached the banks of a river that would allow them to watch their surroundings.
Minutes later, he tapped the beast's side, speaking. ''Slow down, As. We can stop running now, and I need some sleep.''
When the lion heard his words, he skidded to a stop as Artemis did the same, and Athena landed on the leopard's head, making him laugh as he climbed off Aslan's back and dropped the Ironthorne branch, which was digging into his back. He let out a sigh, turning toward the Owl.
''Those things were something else,'' he said, laughing nervously. ''There were so many, mother never mentioned them.''
'Its not surprising,' Athena answered, glancing around to make sure they're fine. 'They roam the southern shores thanks to Varna Warriors killing them all the time.'
After the owl's explanation, Argo slumped down as the big cats vanished into the Beast Realm to rest from the running and fighting they had done. Once the duo was gone, the owl suggested. 'Get some rest, I'll keep watch, Arg.'
He stretched his arms and glanced around the savannah, only to find a rock outcropping he could climb up. After ten minutes, Argo was relaxing on top of it, in front of a fire he started, as Athena sat on a nearby boulder, scanning the landscape. 'You're safe, the Varna are nearby, so predators won't risk coming around here.'
''Thanks, Athena,'' he replied before pulling a beast hide around his body.
Warmth soon enveloped Argo, pulling him into a deep slumber before the crackling fire, even as the wind howled across the world. The night sky blazed with stars while he rested until dawn. He awoke to a pink sky, the rising sun on the horizon casting long shadows across Arda.
He shook his head and stood up just as a notification popped up, surprising him.
[System Quest: Craft new weapons and gear for yourself - Reward: 10 Beast Points]
'Seems the goddess wants me to arm myself,' he thought, smiling.
Following that, Argo decided to search for obsidian near the cliff; he didn't want to explore the south anymore. By the time he reached the Dead Woods, it was still morning, thanks to riding on Aslan's back most of the way. He stepped into the treeline and noticed life was still flourishing.
Argo followed the trail they had worn to Exile Cliff, what the Varna named it, the Ironthorne branch slung across his back. Athena circled high above, a dark speck against the pale sky, while the great cats ghosted through the underbrush, unseen but never far. No predator would challenge him; he knew every den and lair along this path.
They knew him and he knew them, so the two parties left each other alone. By the time he stepped onto the cliff, the branch had bitten deep into his shoulder. He shrugged it off with a grimace, then drew his carving blade and the small kit. Below, the swamp breathed, black water glinting between cypress trees, pale mists curling up to meet the dawn.
A bird flew off, slow wings beating the fog. He opened his pack, pulling out the materials he harvested in the south, a coil of Skysilk Thread, finer than spider silk and stronger than wood. Then he pulled out a folded sheet of Cave Bat Wing Membrane, which was tough enough to turn a claw. First, the thread.
He looped it double, then triple, braiding it tight with quick twists of his fingers. Each knot locked, the way his mother taught him when he was younger. The sling's pouch would be a pocket of the membrane, cupped to cradle stone or shot. He cut a square of the wing leather using his carving blade; the edge cut through it like wind through reeds.
Four holes at the corners, threaded using silk, drawn snug. The pouch hung light in his palm, dark and glossy, catching the light. From the cliff, the swamp watched back. A ripple crossed the water, maybe a River Tyrant, maybe something older. Argo tested the sling's balance, spinning it once at his side. The cords hummed, making him smile.
After the last knot was cinched tight. He lifted the finished sling: a dark cradle of bat-wing framed by Skysilk cords. He slipped a smooth river stone into the pouch, spun once, and let fly. The stone arced high over the swamp, a black speck against the rose sky, then vanished with a distant splash.
No splash answered; the swamp kept its own counsel. He set the sling aside and turned to the Ironthorne branch. It lay heavy across his knees, bark rough. With the carving blade, he began stripping the outer rind in long, curling ribbons that smelled of resin and storm. Each stroke revealed more of the grain.
He worked in silence, the only sounds the scrape of stone on wood and the slow drip of swamp water far below. Athena wheeled overhead, a silent shadow. The great cats had melted into the scrub; only the faint rustle of leaves marked their vigil. When the branch was smooth, pale as bone, he looked down its length and was happy.
The sun had slipped behind the mountains in the north by the time Argo set the final smoothing cut. The shaft lay across his thighs, straight, pale, lethal in its simplicity. He ran a thumb along the grain and felt the wood answer. A pinkie color bled violet across the swamp, lighting up the world around him.
A chorus of frogs rose from the reeds, steady as heartbeats. His stomach answered in kind. He dug into his pack, drew out a strip of smoked rabbit, and tore into it. Salt and smoke bloomed on his tongue. Between bites, he rose, stretched the stiffness from his shoulders, and strung a line between two wind-twisted junipers.
One by one, he shook out the pelts he'd harvested on the journey south: a Bristlehare, a hog, and a few other creatures hunted along the way home. Each skin slapped softly against the line, glistening in the dying light. He chewed slowly, eyes fixed on the darkening water below, until Athena dropped something at his feet.
Argo glanced down and saw a fist-sized chunk of glowing white stone. ''What's this?'' he asked the Grey Owl.
'I don't know,' she answered. 'I found it just past the swamp, there's a crater with more in it.'
His eyebrows shot up as he thought. 'A meteorite!'
Argo jumped up, exclaiming. ''We'll go find it in the morning! This stone will be my new weapon!'
Athena giggled at this before he stood up, finishing the smoked rabbit and stepping into his quiet hut that was now his. He glanced around it and noticed the two beds on the opposite side, blocked from each other by a Plainswalker pelt. Wooden crates held all their worldly possessions.
''At least it's mine now, and mother can find somewhere else to stay,'' he chuckled to himself.