Rynth: Four Beats

| 7th of Teryusin — Year 362 of the Cycle of Synthesis, Grand Cycle ??? |

“Here we are.”

Avil flourished a wave of his hand over the damp, dark sea of greenery ahead of them. A single carved dirt path tracked into the recesses past the waiting maws of the Jek-Alturi Forest. The faint scent of sterile air and ozone drifted into their noses, bouncing off the bark and mossy stone a few paces pervading every little bit of immediate vicinity. Vision was obscured past twenty or so steps, the path forward dim save for the few bits of radiant sunlight that pierced the forest roof. They served as guiding lights, and the Batan made sure to prioritize being in areas not totally masked.

They were led forward confidently by Cali, who was just about the most familiar with the surroundings. Each step she took was measured, head craned toward just about every angle that echoed the unsolicited crack of branch torn under heel or distant vocalization of a far-off beast that frequently prowled and treated Jek-Alturi as its hunting ground. Her vision was not all-encompassing, however, and as such Raoul took the primary reins as scout beside her and kept a keen watch on the spots she wasn’t paying attention to.

Silence was just about the dominant force in their walk. Tough reaches of grown foliage frequently blocked their path; all cut down with a few hacks of Cali’s dagger. No such direct waypoint was laid out for them. They had long forsaken the beaten path and were instead following the barely-audible crashing of current on calm lake water—not entirely difficult again, given the lack of sound save for their four-sequence footsteps.

Their map served some use, too. Avil kept much of his attention harking the screen of his phone, making sure they were traveling in the general direction of the waterfall on the map and steering his friends back on track if they veered off even slightly.

“You know, there’s supposedly a mutant bear that stalks these lands,” he spoke up, his voice especially hushed but reeking of a lack of propriety for the bombshell. “Old folk story from the people in the village over. It’s said to wake up at midday and go hunting, killing and feeding on any that get in its way.”

Raoul shuddered at the thought, sending a small scoff equal parts fearful and annoyed in his direction. “Way to go. You just jinxed us. I was hoping for a quiet walk, but now that you’ve brought that up, it’s going to come for us any second.”

“Ooh, a bear?” Idri, meanwhile, was entirely entranced by the idea. She leaned into the conversation, a smile lightening up on her face. “Is it, like, a super-powered bear that consumes the spirits of those it's killed and gets stronger after each one?”

“No way.”

Avil shot her a disturbed look. “What, you already knew? That’s exactly it. Part of a famous children’s story used to frighten them from wandering into the woods at night. The ‘Mauler-Bear’ is what they call it. It consumes not only the life but also the strength of its prey.”

“What’s the story?” asked Idri. “And how do you know this, Avil?”

“Cali can tell you why.” he patted his maid on the back, snapping her out of the vigil she was focused on, much to her concealed displeasure.

“Master Avil, I really don’t think this is the time.”

“Don’t be a killjoy. Go ahead, tell them.”

A restrained sigh left her lips. It was an order, and so she had to fulfill it. She sheepishly bit at her bottom lip, attempting to figure out a way to make her next words sound less than embarrassing to her own ears. And less cringey.

“I frequently make trips to the nearby village to procure for Master Avil a special jar of honey only produced by the bees in this forest every three months. Maltari—it is Yurhanic for ‘essence’. The essence of the blue-spotted bees that make it. There is a special effect granted to those that consume the jar in its entirety. It… Well, it makes one especially aroused, in addition to the boost in one’s critical thinking skills. Along with his coffee, Master Avil prefers to down it all in one setting for when he is wracked with heavy paperwork.”

She continued. “I have come to know the villagers. They tell me many stories, but namely the Mauler-Bear is present in most of them. It has become quite the boogeyman for not only the children, but also the adults who have to visit Jek-Alturi to cut wood or hunt small animals for food.”

“There you go,” Avil ended. “Anyway, the story is that a vengeful spirit from Pesdavil—the Land of Spirits—managed to escape the continent’s Spirit Seal and flew all the way to Manlifax through the help of solar rays on the Sunset Veil. It then drifted into Urdha, into the forest we’re in right now, and possessed a frail bear in its last weeks. It revitalized the bear’s body and gave it extraordinary strength, at the cause of it fully taking over its soul through metempsychosis.”

“The spirit belonged to a nameless ronin that always sought a battle even to his own detriment, and that habit carr—”

Raoul had already since tuned his friends out halfway through the explanation. The continuation of Avil’s next few statements was a blur to his ears, numbing and replaced instead by the distinct growl from the bushes. A deep and guttural growl. He snapped into position, following the noise’s direction past the deep undergrowth, thick lumber, and hefty stone. There, behind a barely-sizable entanglement of green and just outside of the encroaching sound of water in the background, he made direct eye contact with the beady orange of a hulking mass of four-legged fur. A slight smirk seemed to come about on its snouted, wide face. A smirk of joy at having found its next victims.

“I knew it…” he bit down, already weaving the signs for Ice Shard with his right hand. “You jinxed us, Avil. Up ahead, guys.”

Cali dropped down, retrieving both her daggers into her hands. “I see it. Stay back, Master Avil. It is much larger than I was led to believe.”

The rest of the Batan followed suit. Idri hawked over, the whiff of blood and rugged fur entering her nostrils. She didn’t panic, instead drawing Kranstor with a nonchalant expression.

“Aww… I was looking forward to hearing more of the story.”

“Maybe later.” Avil huffed. He kept back as Cali suggested, stepping into the protective trunk of tree closest to him. He prepared his own casting of Jati Missile, preparing to launch it the moment the bear revealed itself fully.

And reveal itself it did. It raged a resounding growl that tore through the trees, creating shockwaves that pierced the very air. The first paw trudged out, creating miniature rumbles that thundered across the ground with that step. The second followed, carrying its colossal form of muscle and brown, scarred coat of fur fully outside of the grass. It reared back on its hind legs, standing back fully in a display of intimidation. Curved claws each as sharp and long as the blades on Cali’s daggers ran along the bark it scratched them on, leaving deep gashes.

The smile on its face did not disappear. In fact, it only seemed to widen, baring equally pointed canines, some dented and some polished a silvery sheen. Drying blood still reeked from each breath it took, smelling utterly horrid to the Batan. They all focused as it came falling back down on its fours. Its initial step carried it past a thick root, and the next moment it roared again, now charging them with malicious intent.

I guess we’re doing this.

“Same formation, guys!” he mouthed out. “Cali and Idri, hold it off while Avil and I disrupt it with spells. Go for the kill if you can.”