The Power of Ten: Book One: Sama Rantha, and Book Two: The Far Future

The Future, Real Life...

The real world definitely wasn’t the dreamscape. I had to wander a bit to find things trying to kill me. It was a new and amusing situation after everything had been seeking me relentlessly to kill me for so long. Now I actually had to go find the things to kill!

It was, huh, inconvenient. I was mentally of the opinion that stuff should be delivering itself to me, and having to hunt for them was kind of offensive. How did real people Level this way?

Most of the Fey seemed to have gotten the news that I wasn’t going to kill them unless I had to… or they were Unseelie and deserved it. The two quicklings that thought they were too fast for me were among the latter bunch. Sure, they were fast, living in 4x normal time and what-all, but that just meant I had to use good timing, and being two feet tall and 3 Hit Dice, they weren’t exactly all that tough, especially against a Superior Armed Strike.

Trying to stab me with those ridiculous little daggers, really...

There were giant spiders, beetles, ants, and scorpions; ambulatory vines, a mobile and hungry black willow, a clearing of very poisonous flowers, a circle of dangerous mushrooms; some overly aggressive baboons that nobody would miss, some bloodstags that thought I was a good charge target, a giant toad that thought I looked like a snack, and two giant dragonflies longer than I was tall that I danced with for ten minutes before I took off their wings and got to skin their glittery hides.

A group of tiny Fey mounted on giant crickets made a run at me, and I had cricket for lunch (mmm, tasted like huge shrimp!), and wicked little Fey fed the fire.

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“I’m aware you think you’re pretty quiet out there. But seeing as you weigh that much, every hoof you set on the ground thrums through the stones. Since I know you’re there, trying to watch me in secret is just going to make me laugh at you, and if you spring an ambush, I already know where you are.

“You should have stayed at least fifty paces away from me. Since you didn’t, and I didn’t sneak up and gut you, you should be able to work out that I don’t have it in for you. There’s room by the fire.”

There was silence from the surrounding forest, falling quiet with a suddenness born of ties to it.

I heard the deliberate snapping of twigs and brushing of leaves, and the centaur suddenly loomed out of the forest remarkably close to me.

Standard chestnut, with dark fetlocks, tail, mane, and hair. He was wearing gear woven of leather and plant fibers, forming partial armor over his upper and lower halves.

The division of his body was more at the ribs than the waist, which made more sense, as there was no need to double up on the areas with digestive organs, use the room for larger lungs. His nostrils were wider than a human’s, as he had to inhale a larger volume of air, and had the thicker neck to show for it.

He was as brawny as a strongly-built man, his horse half larger than a pony, smaller than a good riding horse, and moving more gracefully and controlled than a horse, at any rate. He had a spear in his hand, a bow and arrows stashed on his horse-back on something very like a saddle, with a wooden shield slung back there, too. No helm, pointed animalistic ears, and hard, dark eyes watching me carefully. Ornamentation was fringes, embroidery, and some feathers tucked here and there about him.

He looked respectably wild, savage, and competent.

He’d been watching me back there for at least twelve hours, so he’d seen me chop off a giant scorpion’s pincers, crack its carapace with my bare hands, and sample its poison with interest, among other things. He knew how dangerous I was, and only my lack of a ranged weapon had given him the confidence to stay with me.

I could tell he was unsettled, nervous, and wary. A masterful forest dweller who could move through the trees like a ghost being caught at it by a human girl clearly wasn’t something he was ready to accept.

“I’m Sama. Who are you?” I asked, barely glancing at him as I turned the scorpion tail and claws over the flames. Its poison was already safely tucked away. Not as good as boiling the bug, but needs must.

He replied after a long moment, watching me move with precision and a total lack of fear of him.

“Brownleaf,” he finally replied, his voice naturally quite deep, and clearly uncomfortable.

“You are welcome at my fire, Master Brownleaf,” I invited him cordially. “I’m not sure if you eat meat, and the water is over there.” I waved my fingers at the river nearby, although I noted he had a skin.

“By your leave,” he agreed gruffly, stepping in further, and then slowly settling himself down across from me. His dark eyes never left me, save to glance at the Sword at hand next to me.

“Meat or no? No plants or grains on me.” His eyes moved to the scorpion tail and claws, and his tongue came out despite himself. “Right then. So, what are you doing out here in the deep, dark forest all by yourself?”

“Tracking you,” he admitted forthrightly.

“Not a difficult task, I trust?”

There was a flicker in his eyes. Given my trail of dead… “No, not particularly.”

“It’ll probably be a couple more days before I reach my goal. I’m in no hurry.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You seek the Hags.” See, dryads really are gossips.

“Yes. I will personally be very happy when I kill them. They’ve been putting me through quite a Hell in Nightmare for the last few years. I think putting them all to the sword and Feeding them to the Land will be a remarkably wonderful thing.”

“Nightmare?” The dreamscape was not an airy thing of wonder to fey-types. Fey came from Dreamtime, so Nightmare was like mentioning a neighboring kingdom. “How came you to Nightmare?”

“Know much about how Annis Hags have children?” I inquired blithely.

He hesitated. “Only that they kill and devour children, and change shape to lure others to their dooms.”

“Mmm.” I glanced up at them. “To be specific, when an Annis wants to conceive, it’s usually to punish someone enjoying a happy marriage. She waits until she knows the woman is pregnant with a girl-child, then lures, rapes, and consumes a man, if possible the woman’s husband.” The centaur’s lips thinned despite himself.

“She controls when she bears her child to within a day or two of the woman. However, her child is a soulless thing, more a product of the Hag Curse than anything. She sets her child upon the newborn babe to consume it, taking the babe’s form, soul, and place.

“Of course, when it comes of age, the Hagborn, completely unknowing of her fate, is twisted by the Curse into a Hag, just like her Hagmother, thus condemning an innocent soul to the fate of Hagdom. Her first action is usually to slaughter the family who raised her, in revenge for not being able to prevent what happened, and then she flees to find a Coven, if her mother does not take her in for a short time to teach her of Hag society.”

He probably came from a hard people, because he didn’t bat an eye, even though his expression was stiff.

“And what has this to do with you?” he asked pointedly.

“I’m the baby that was eaten.” He blinked. “The soul, rather. When the soul is consumed, it is consigned to Nightmare, there to suffer and any sentience it has gets wiped away, to be easily subsumed and later corrupted by the Curse.”

His jaw worked for a time. “That… is impressive,” he admitted cautiously.

“Not really. Either I got my body back, or the Curse would die. I was born Forsaken. The Curse is magical, and had no way to truly cling to or corrupt my body. It was just a matter of time before I drove it away.” I gestured at the side of my face and my shoulder. “This is all that’s left of it. As I get stronger, even this will fade away. Just a matter of time.”

He grunted, plainly wondering if I was telling the truth, yet finding the uncaring accent of my Fey tongue incredibly compelling. I truly didn’t care if he believed me or not, which was pretty convincing all by itself. “You fight very well for… a child.”

“Yes.” I didn’t deny it. “Would you like to know what Nightmare was like for me?”

He grunted deeply, but I didn’t miss the flash of curiosity in his dark eyes.

I flicked my fingers back in the direction of my backtrail. “You know all the fights I had while you were following me?” He nodded slowly. “Now imagine those fights, with one minute between them. Never stopping, new ones coming as you win, until you are worn down and die.”

His mouth opened, revealing rather squarish teeth, then closed with a click.

“It was Nightmare. I couldn’t truly die. So I woke up at Renewal, and went forth to fight again.

“And again, and again.

“It was fight every day, or surrender to the Curse, and be erased forever. Even once, and I would be gone forever.”

I reached out to the first claw, plucking it out of the flames, where its juices were sizzling and boiling out the gaps in it.

My nails crunched as they bit in, and the tough chitin cracked in my grip. I shifted my fingers, clenched them, and a spiderweb ran between the holes as my hands clenched again, cracking loudly.

I tossed the claw to him, and he caught it cautiously, juggling it on his callused hands with their blunt nails. He watched me as I plucked out the other one, cracked it and this time wrenched it open, pulling off the soft meat within to chow down, ignoring the boiling heat entirely.

“I fought. And you might say I’ve grown rather good at it.”

He pulled out his dagger, using it to pry up the chitin more safely, slice the soft meat and impale it to eat carefully after blowing on it. That I didn’t need to do the same was clearly a point of interest.

“And you seek to kill the Hags in their valley…”

“The Curse of the Hags is the single largest, most powerful, and insidious Curse preying upon the human race. Whatever its origins, it now sucks in the innocent and damns them, along with the accursed. Hags are in essence, living Curses. They should be cleansed and put down, and their vile depredations upon the innocent ended forever.

“Spoken from personal experience.

“I’m going to end the ones here, and I’m going to enjoy doing it, just like Hagmom enjoyed having her worm of a Hagborn eat me and delighted in what I was going to end up as.”

He made a sound deep in his throat as he continued eating. I continued stuffing food into my face.

My digestive system was working overtime. I’d already gained back some weight; having a system powered by copious amounts of ki and Essence was certainly having an effect. Moving from reliance on burning calories to continuous soul-power would change anyone’s physiology. Also, having a very acid-resistant body meant my digestive tract was muy dangerouso. I didn’t need all that much space to break stuff down, as the stuff inside me compared favorably to black dragon acid, or aqua regia.

Even my saliva could be pretty dangerous, if I wanted it to be. Easier to just upchuck some vomit as needed, however…

“They have many guards, evil magic.” My look was unimpressed. “And by now, they have probably been told you are coming.”

“I doubt they are impressed. As far as they are concerned, I’m just a Hagborn coming back to the nest, waiting to be converted, if a bit on the young side.” I tossed the empty claw away, and reached out for the tail.

Multiple crackings ensued as I split the tough chitin down the center, and calmly cut the flesh away from the chitin. He was starting to drool as I peeled it away and he saw the long length of clean white meat below.

I cracked the chitin and gave him half of the worm-like length, and he took it with gusto. The place was quiet for a while, save the crackling of the fire and the munching of inordinate amounts of hot bug meat.

“They said you killed two beloved spirits of the forest.”

Munch munch. “Nope. I kill things worth the killing. And I’ve been in the real world for two nights, counting right now. I don’t know how long ago they died, but it wasn’t me. And I certainly don’t make a habit of eating sapients.”

“Others may not see it the same.” He glanced at my Curse scars.

I waved my fingers at them. “It was likely the Hagborn, I won’t deny it. The Curse was going crazy as I was throwing it off, corrupting her with Evil and Sin, and she was probably going out of her mind as it subsumed her without my soul to provide an anchor, eroding away all that she was. This is all that is left of her and it.

“Blaming me for what she did is like me setting a forest fire, throwing you into it, and blaming you for the deed because you were burned by it.”

I lifted my eyes to stare into his. “Let them come. I don’t mind fighting. I’ve done nothing but fight for years and years, it’s as natural as walking to me now. If they’re coming in a righteous huff to kill the wicked evil-doer, and they aren’t too dangerous, I’ll just knock them around and laugh at them.

“But if they’re coming because they think I’m easy prey without any friends, they deserve what’s coming to them.”

“You think you can fight all the forest?” he challenged me.

I just grunted. “I’m weak right now, sure. But you would be amazed at how fast and well I can run, and just how much killing I can do on the way. I’ve fought armies before. I’ve fought Swarms. And what ‘the forest’ would have to pay to kill me, when I’ve nothing but good intentions towards it, is definitely not worth it.

“If the forest wants to expend some undesirables in my direction, hey, more power to it. But if the good folk of the forest want to hunt me down, they’ve got better things to do with their time, and I’ll also be happy to pound that into their skulls once or twice… until I get the impression that they are just fanatics, and then I’ll wipe them.”

He looked a bit disgruntled at my words, but didn’t outright challenge me. He was a savage, used to hunting and stalking his prey. He had his pride.

“You think you can beat me?” I asked calmly, not bothering to hide my amusement.

“You are dangerous,” he replied proudly, glancing at my hands, over at the sword. “But I have killed dangerous prey before.”

“And I have killed far more dangerous prey than you. I am faster than you, more skilled than you, stealthier, and more perceptive. I know how to use the terrain, and I am not at all adverse to ambushing you, sneaking around, and I literally have nothing better to do with my time then kill something trying to hunt me. If we fight straight up, I will slaughter you. If we hunt one another, I’ll reach you, and I’ve no fear of someone shooting a wooden stick at me.” I just waved my hand at him. “Don’t start a fight you won’t win. I’ve told you the truth, I’ve shown you hospitality at my fire. I’m not the deranged thing that slaughtered your friends.

“If in the face of this you choose to show hostility to me, I’ll call it attempted murder, I’ll revise my opinion of you from a scout and hunter to a fool and savage, and I’ll put you down and feed the Land, who is not kind to fools.

“Holding me to judgment for the crimes of the thing that murdered me when I was a babe is going to gain no sympathy or understanding from me whatsoever.”

He was silent again. My absolute conviction was weighing on him heavily, as an Intimidate check at +30 should, regardless of it being delivered politely in a calm voice.

I was perfectly ready to fight, and he had seen that I was perfectly capable of fighting.

“There are many who will not believe such tales.”

“I’ve heard that pain and the fear of death are excellent teachers, and death itself tends to trump all beliefs. They are welcome to come.”

My voice had turned from total apathy to veins of eagerness. It was true, I was programmed to fight, so I loved to fight. And I really and truly didn’t have anything better to do with my time. Karma waited for no Sama!

He was silent for a long time, pulling at his scorpion tail dinner and obviously thinking about what to do. Centaurs were noted for their wisdom, but that could just mean stubbornness, to some extent. He would definitely have a hard time taking a human girl-child seriously, in spite of everything he had seen.

What he said next did surprise me. “Do you have an old soul?”

I lifted my remaining eyebrow. “Interesting. What prompted that, Master Brownleaf?”

He let out a long, low sigh. “You do not act like a child. You are not a Hag, but you certainly possess some sort of wisdom…” he trailed off.

“Mmmm. I was probably supposed to be somebody else, but that is done now when I was killed, and my replacement is also gone. I used to be Sama Rantha, The Sage of Swords, Grandmaster of the Sword, called also the Tip of the Spear, and the Sword of the Sea.”

His brow furrowed despite himself as he searched his memory. “I have not heard of that name,” he said warily, as the ringing note of the True Titles could not be faked easily. A child being a Grandmaster of the Sword… that would shake the whole forest! Titles were not things easily given, and that I had four awarded me by Skill or Acclaim… that said a very, very great deal about who I used to be...

“Hardly surprising. I don’t know how long it has been, nor where we are in relation to whence I came. I would be astonished if you did know of me, actually.”

“You… said that your ties with your family… are broken?”

I finished off my scorp tail and tossed it aside casually. He still had half of his to go. Boiling hot and all, you know. “My blood ties to my family were broken when I died. There is no magic that would claim me as a member of it now, for example, nor would the Land acknowledge such a lineage. My body is that of the Hagborn who ate me. It imitated my appearance, but it could not retain a bloodline.

“Removing the Curse effectively removed its lineage, however nebulous, with the magic I’ve lost. So, I don’t even have a true Hag lineage. I’m effectively a Human now, with blood relation to nothing. My Hag blood was stripped with my magic.” My eyes glittered. “Why? Do you know who I was supposed to be?”

The centaur pursed his lips, staring at me thoughtfully. “There were trackers who had followed a cursed child into the forest. It could be assumed they were looking for you. It seems there is a substantial reward for information about you.”

I laughed despite myself, low and knowing. “I doubt they want to learn that their child died as a babe, and they’ve been raising a Hagborn in her place all these years. I also doubt they wish to have a child with no blood tie to their family back.” I steepled my fingers, thoughtful as I looked up at the stars barely visible through the branches overhead. “Don’t tell them that. I may need to make use of that identity one last time, if I can’t find my Hagmother. It would be easy to draw her out if word spread of a Hagborn being identified…”

His dark eyes widened slightly. Yes, I really, really wanted to kill that Hag…