Life continued on. Despite my worries, despite my fears for Ishilas safety, the world did not stop for . Night passed into day, and I found myself tired, distracted while I worked. A night of twists and turns had done little for my wellbeing and ntal energy, and now I gazed at my half-finished ho and groaned inside,
So much remained to be done, and I distinctly was not at all willing to continue on. The walls had been lain, ford to be a proper lodge of notched logs atop each other, cut from the largest, longest trees I could find. With a sigh, I shook my head, sniffed at the wet, cloudy morning and got to work. Wether or not I liked it, it had to be done.
Harvest nipped at my heels, and it was necessary for to vacate the old ho and move into her so I could have a place to process the crops before they would be stored in this houses cellar. Having lent my horse to Lerish, any trips to sell plant parts and other goods would have to be made by the strength of my own back.
The huntress had also all but depleted my reserves of milk, and with the coming influx of bodies on the horizon, the prospect of profit demanded more. Once she had returned, I would ask her for the location of this farr these cows were from and wrangle more back myself. The bare minimum done for myself to consider this an acceptable day, I turned and instead directed my attention to the fields.
Past the ripened crops, the birds that circled warily above and mice that crept below. Onto my monstrous plants. They were fattened now, large and above all else, dangerous. I had forbidden Artyom from being close to them, for his own safety. The stalks from which I had harvested biter pods wer thick and engorged, birthing new pods from veiny vines.
I bent to examine these half-grown podlings, and found them aboust as expected. Tiny, only partially developed. Their thirst would erge soon enough.
Every ti I approached the tallic burstbombs warranted more and more caution. For the sake of ensuring relative safety and not random violent demises delivered to anything in theimdiate area, I no longer approached without a full bag of sleep spores. Every slow movent was an agony to as I inched closer to the trembling growths and dusted their surfaces with the powder.
Slowly, quietly, their trembling ceased, and I could harvest several more. Carefully packed into bags filled with spores, they uneasily slept, their raw explosive energy barely contained.
The others needed a much lesser level of caution when handled, but so was still required. Without Ishilas help, the entire process ate through the afternoon, until the final far of freshly-harvested acid was safely tucked away.
Now, my expirents could begin.
Try as I might, I could not summon any excitent. Ishila was not here with her usual lop-sided grin and words of encouragent. I know not if she was even alive. Now, I could do little but wait for the call that this dungeons entrance had been opened and that the search could start.
There remained one particular experint I wanted to perform. The mimicseed I had tested on living persons, inanimate objects, and the like, but there was one venue that I had not yet touched upon.
Various bags of harvested plants in either hand, I nodded farewell to Artyom, told him to keep Gol on the yard and set off for a secluded place. Where, I hoped, the carnage would be minimal. A clearing in the dense forest yielded itself so ti after. With careful touches, I pulled free one of each specin at a ti.
For this, I did not want my essence copied by the mimicseeds, so I brought forth an entire vine. Held by its stalk, it was navigated to hover above a drowsy burstbomb. A gentle brush against the tallic surface was all a lone seed needed to peel open, attach itself, and gain a quivering tallic appearance.
Carefully plucked from the vines, it seed in every way a miniature burstbomb. Size, shape, and even the sa quivering energy. A cautious flick revealed it held none of the originals explosive energy, however.
I had suspected this when it mimicked the cleric-shines energy and radiance, yet offered no healing effect. There remained one other wild possibility I wanted to explore, however.
The first mimicseed lost among the undergrowth, I touched another pale fruit to the slumbering burstbomb, waited for it to absorb its properties and then brought it over to my other specin. The biterpod.
Its fleshy, toothy surface swelled as the mimicseed latched on. As I watched, the tallic features flowed from the seed into the biterpod. It transford before my eyes, becoming enlarged, hardened and shaking. Now for the test.
Breath held in trepidation, I tossed the newly created amalgamation into the air, followed its arc and blinked as it burst through the air and shredded through the nearest tree. A mad flurry of teeth and steel were all I caught as wood flew through the air. It struck the ground, cratered the soil and burst from the ground once more, aid at sothing deeper in the woods. A shrilled scream rose and died off, followed by the sounds of crunched bones and the wet squishes of torn at. All in the space of several heartbeats. More followed, and I found a trail of destruction as I cautiously followed the hybrids frenzy.
Shattered trees, the torn corpse of a mossdear and more awaited as I approached the final crater. They newly borne hybrid lay lifeless, its life spent in an uncontrolled frenzy of decimation and destruction.
More than just the physical characteristics, the mimicseed had fused the burstbombs short, explosive life with the biterpods insatiable hunger to propel it far further than it previously ever could have, I realized. A wince writ upon my face, I gazed back at the sheer destruction wrought by an organism unconcerned with its own life or safety. We had stepped from the realm of mildly dangerous to a true terror in the wrong hands.
Were I wholly an ethical person, I would have given this up buried these experints far from the light of day.
I was not.
Curiosity, hunger for knowledge compelled onwards, and I answered the call.
In that mont, I realized a glimpse as to why mad scientists even existed, although I tried to convince myself I would never go that far.
A beautiful lie. But one I would hold onto nonetheless.
I retrieved the amalgamations empty husk, not wanting to leave it out here in case sothing were to happen. No sooner had I tucked it away than my attention turned to another.
The mimicseed was fully capable of transferring one essence to the next. Now, what if I preford the sa process but in reverse?
The biterpod wriggled between pinger fingers as I dipped the stalk of mimicseeds down to et it. One pale fruit touched, and learned the wonders of dental hygiene. I was truly a revolutionary with all the concepts I introduced to this world, to pat myself upon the back. Unlike the now re-sedated pod, the mimicking did not bulge and struggle with hunger, but stayed dormant.
A state that lasted all of several monts as I dipped it towards another fresh burstbomb. A screech of tal ripped through the air as the iron ball suddenly found itself in possession of a gaping, teeth filled visage, coupled by a void of hunger within.
It sprang from my grasp, and All I saw was an approaching iron teor headed right for my skull. Instinct led to duck as it rocketed past overhead.
Right into my horns
Steel teeth latched on to my right horn, gnawing and chewing at the hard, massive growth. And worse, chipping away at it. All thoughts of scientific pursuit abandoned, I bellowed and threw my head around in attempt to dislodge it.
It held fast, grinding away at my horn. Slowly shredding through.
A fast, wild swing connected the horn to a massive tree as I threw my body around. A sharp twinge ran through my skull as the horn ripped through ancient wood, flattening the ball of steel, hate and hunger.
Or so I thought.
It clung still as the horn erged from the tree, flattened, leaking, and battered, determined to never let go.
Another bellow and vicious rear of my head tossed it skyward. With the last of its life, the hybrid defied gravity, reversed itself, and shot back down towards , maw stretched wide open.
And impaled itself right on the horns sharpened tip. Such was the force at which it ca that its body only stopped halfway down the horn, nearly split in twain.
All of this happened in the space of several heartbeats.
This was one combination I would not recreate under any circumstances, I vowed to myself. Grimace on my face, I felt at the jagged grooves in my otherwise untarnished horns where the teeth had shorn through. A reminder for myself, and my future ambitions.
Both variations had been relentless, exerting themselves right up until they violently perished. The burstbombs explosive potential combined with the biterpods relentless hunger should have been a predictable outco.
If I did not know before, I could no longer claim ignorance as an excuse.
Cautious further experints showed my own essence, although copied by the mimicseed on a direct touch, could not be transferred to the plants. And with that concluded, I gathered everything back, heaved up the broken mossdear corpse and trecked back ho.
Thick and dense though the undergrowth was, I had so sense of sll to guide through the otherwise pathless forest. The trees faded away, and I found myself uphill from my farm, gazing out over what was mine. It seed idyl at this mont, a picture of tranquility. But I knew that it was a fragile peace I maintained, one that could be shattered at any mont by the world of dangers upon my doorstep.
Blood leaked and dripped behind as I walked, corpse slung over my shoulder. But it was not for at I was concerned.
The cleric-shines lonely blood grew amidst dried puddles of blood, its plucked leaves rapidly regrowing as it sucked nutrients from the stained soil. It stood alone, as I had been unable to duplicate it. Insofar, I had been unable to find any seeds on the plant itself, but I would keep trying.
For now, I tossed the corpse into the dirt next to the plant to let it bleed out and feed the flower.
After a long day, I was tired, bloody and matted by dirt and sweat. A bath was in order. Fresh clothes grabbed from the house, I stopped and looked at Artyom dejectedly sitting atop Gol. The felinid was staring up the road, his ears drooped and tail lifeless. A small pang went through my body as I observed his sadness. I wasnt the only one who missed Ishila, and burying ourselves in work hadnt paid off for either of us.
Shell be alright. I tried to convince him, but whatever facade of courage I mustered was revealed by the tired tone of my voice.
Thats what I want to believe, yes-yes. He muttered. Annoying orc brat. Free from her tornt. Not here to bother , no-no.
There was little I could do to lighten his dejected tone, but still i tried.
Go get yourself so milk. I suggested. Wth my permission.
No." He simply replied. Bad for . We know this both. Stupid to bury myself in addiction and hope for better tis-tis.
I respected that decision. With a nod, I trudged off, intent on thoroughly cleansing myself. The water proved lukewarm, and was soon filled with dirt, loose hair and blood. All which would soon be washed down to water my crops. A small whisper that no matter what hardship I endured, the world marched ever onwards.
It was soti later that I sat beneath the massive tree and watched the sunset, my mood pensive, a lit lantern bobbing by my side. I did not know fully what that mont signified, but at the ti I was entranced by the image of a small, warm light shining into the darkness, faintly bobbing on the wind.
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