Chapter 110: Lost, Returning

Chapter 110: Lost, Returning

Akkyst exhaled once, chest shaking like a bellows. There was no going back, after this; the next step he would take would bring him to a land he hadn't seen in far too long. The last time he had been here, he had been running, bawling, doing anything to escape the pain of cuts and wounds on his untested body. He hadn't found peace but the biting of spears and fangs and darker things in the mountain, from the War Horde and their patrols to the terminal fear with the Magelords.

Bylk and the Magelords were hidden around the corner, far enough that they couldn't be seen from the entrance; the bladehawk and stalking jaguar were with them, defensive positions for any of the numerous creatures that were summoned to the Growth's power.

But it would be Akkyst going in alone.

And there was no time to second guess, no time to wonder if there was another way out of the mountains; so he growled low in his throat and marched into the yawning maw of the entrance.

There was a second wall before him, a second entrance curving off to the right; threaded spiderwebs coiled overhead, bulbous red-black bodies skittering overtop. There was no light but Akkyst—for reasons he still didn't know—cast his own silvery glow on his surroundings, showing him the algae beneath his paws and the entrance deeper into the cavern to his right.

No time to waste. This had to be their home.

Akkyst reentered the Growth and looked over a place he had only seen in memories.

There was a long moment there, at the top of the sloping hill, where he just looked over it; something soft building in his chest. It wasn't like he remembered it—much larger than before, with twining pathways and stalactites looming low overhead; he saw the same rippling pattern of algae, threaded through with streams of water, but massively expanded over the entire floor. Jewels gleamed in the corner, shadows thick and heavy around, and there was even an odd white bone structure that sprawled before him, an enormous serpent coiling around to rest its dead fangs near the entrance. That certainly hadn't been there before.

But in the back, from the glow his fur gave off and the darkness his eye didn't care about, he could see the dens he had once lived in, the gentle rock pond lapping at the back wall and the tunnel beyond, and the–

And the glint of the whitecaps.

His stomach rumbled.

But no. He was a diplomat now. He had to get the Growth to agree to house both him and all he had brought, and only then would he eat the whitecaps.

Only then.

It was hard to convince himself of this course of action.

He padded forward, claws rooting in alongside the algae, a rat squeaking from somewhere deeper within. He'd been there for a minute and no one had come to see; although he remembered the attack, how the Growth hadn't noticed the invaders until they were already inside. Maybe he had to do something to get its attention. Something like eating a whitecap–

Akkyst shook his head. After a moment, he stepped forward and lightly bumped his head against a side wall—and lightly for him meant the impact rippled outward with a groan of rock. As polite a knock as he could manage.

He didn't have long to wait.

All at once, he could feel the floor awaken; the shadows in the far corners stirred like living things, lengthening and deepening until he couldn't see the dens in the far back even with his enhanced eyesight. The rock pond splashed with action, the rumble of something hidden from him. Akkyst's lips peeled back from his fangs.

But then something feather-soft danced around him, and there was a deep and curling snap as pieces of himself he hadn't even realized were missing came back; connections remade and pathways reopened, as mana hummed through him in brilliant and roaring fashion. Akkyst inhaled and felt mana in the breath, burning around him; he was back.

He was back.

And something else knew it, as the back of his mind seemingly opened, a doorway carved alongside his thoughts. He felt something peek its way in, gentle and familiar, the voice of the commands he had heard so long ago.

The Growth itself.

Bear? Something whispered in his mind.

Only, not quite—the meaning was bear, but there was an odd twist to the feeling that let Akkyst know it meant him specifically, rather than bear overall. A nominal difference he wouldn't have been able to pick out before he had changed in the wake of the stone-wurm.

Right. The Growth didn't know his new name.

But it remembered him.

Akkyst nodded.

The mana redoubled, pouring over his back like the mountain-water; it swirled around him in effortless pops and crackles as if a burning fire, the glow off his fur redoubling through no influence of his own. Whitecaps bloomed around him, fresh water breaking through the stone to pool at his paws, every jewel reflecting a shared glow—alive! alive! alive! the mana seemed to crow, again and again, as it echoed around him.

Akkyst felt something warm within him. It was easy to forget that it hadn't just been him gone from his home; his home hadn't seen him in an awfully long time. This was a reunion for them both.

He also, ah, remembered the Growth being more composed than this?

A stray curl of mana coiled through his fur, fluffing it up, and another rushed through his legs as the algae around them grew high enough to intertwine with his claws.

Maybe not.

He felt something warm pool in the hollow socket of his eye, twining around the wreckage of his ruined ear; but it only managed to make the areas itch. Nothing to regrow. The gesture was appreciated, though. Maybe if he had changed here, chosen knowledge and was overtaken by the light in a place full of mana he would have been healed; but that hadn't happened. Many things hadn't happened on his journey, and he couldn't do anything to change that.

With the knowledge he had earned, Akkyst was finding there were many things unchangeable in this universe. What mattered was what he did with them. And for all that he was coming back to this land to find peace the mountains never had, he wasn't doing it for just himself; he was here to change what he could for others.

And that meant being different.

So he walked back to the entrance, shoving his bulk through the opening as mana swirled, worried, around him—not that he was planning on just leaving. This would be their new home.

From the shadows around the corner, the jaguar's eyes flashed, her ivory fangs bared. She blinked when she saw it was just him, ears pricking forward and feathered tail swishing over the stone; she gave a curious churr, and in the bare bits of her language he had learned, he knew she was asking what had happened.

Bylk as well tilted his head to the side, jewels clattering off of each other as they filled with more mana than Akkyst had seen within them in weeks. Even from being in the presence of the Growth, they were stronger for it.

"Come," he said, and widened his stance; the bladehawk took off from the stalagmite he'd been perched on—the remaining Magelord children sulked as their favoured entertainment left them—and landed on his back, talons curling around the fur. The jaguar took her preferred position at his side, Bylk mirroring her; the other Magelords filled in behind. A properly opposing force.

In particular, Bylk's jaw was set, colourless light perched on the tips of his fingers. Ready for anything, then. If the worst came to be, Akkyst would cover them long enough to get out, where it appeared they'd be safe—if the Growth couldn't look outside, it likely couldn't go outside, and then they would be free to run.

To run somewhere.

"Never thought I'd end up here," Bylk said, voice gravely like an avalanche. "A proper ol' Growth, and me lookin' to go in. That's the stuff ya hear in stories more than life."

Yeah, Akkyst could agree.

But life was life, and this was theirs, so he marched back into the Growth with his head held high.

Its mana poured back over him the second he came in, melding back with his own channels and power; he could almost feel it pause curiously over the others, jumping down the line as they entered. It languished particularly long over the jaguar, enough that her hackles rose and her feathered tail fluffed up; the bladehawk snapped irritably at the air as something ruffled through his crest, and.

And then it came to Bylk, and Akkyst felt the mana change. He tensed, ready for combat, for rejection–

But instead, what he felt was distaste.

Akkyst felt the faintest urge to be offended on Bylk's behalf. The goblin wasn't exactly dreamy in appearance, old and weatherworn as he was, but he didn't deserve that kind of reaction. If anything, his deep blue skin with the twisted black markings looked far better than the pale green of the War Horde. He hadn't remembered the Growth being so picky.

"Magelords," he settled on, since even with his improved talking he didn't think he could suddenly start spinning elaborate sentences on how they casted magic. "They are powerful."

Mana curled around him, still swiveled in to the goblins. Mages, it said dubiously.

Thankfully, Bylk wasn't exactly the type to bend under such disapproval; he merely raised a wrinkled eyebrow, his white shock of hair pushed back, and raised a hand. With a snap of his fingers, a curl of flame appeared over his palm, hissing and spitting in the darkness.

"Mages we are, Growth," Bylk said, voice rasping and interlaced with iron. "And yes, powerful."

Akkyst might have suggested a little more subservience, but, well. Bylk was the Chieftain of the Magelords; if he started bowing his head to everyone he came across, he'd lose the power and respect he'd fought for.

But still. Maybe not when facing the Growth.

For its part, the Growth's mana did perk up with interest, swirling around the fire in Bylk's hand; at a muffled command, the other goblins displayed their own preferred elements, from swirling balls of air to the crackle of lightning. Little things, hardly more than a whisper; but within the Growth, they could afford to be dramatic. Already their mana stores were being refilled, the jewels in Bylk's ears not losing any glow.

The Growth prowled overhead, its mana almost seeming to look down upon them with the weight of the mountain. It was still a bit displeased with the goblins, Akkyst knew, though he couldn't guess why—unless the War Horde had attacked, giving it unfavourable opinions of goblins overall.

That thought sent ice down his spine, but even if it were true, they didn't have any other options. This had to be their new home.

I will allow it, the Growth finally decided on, though it didn't sound particularly enthused about the idea. They are your... friends. They can stay.

Akkyst let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding.

Acceptance. Unenthusiastic, but acceptance. They could make a home here—he gave a near imperceptible nod, and watched Bylk's shoulders fall. True relief filled his black eyes.

"Thank you," he rasped, and tilted his head in as much of a bow as the Growth was going to get out of him. "We won't forget this."

The Growth's mana condensed in what was probably smugness.

Well. Akkyst was learning a whole lot more about his creator than he remembered from his previous time here.

But there was a swirl of something almost hesitant, a brush of indecision that broke past the uppity derision for goblins or the pride of new things to fill its halls. Pulling back from everyone else, it landed on just him, feather-soft but curious. Akkyst tilted his head to the side, blinking out at the darkness. Something was happening, and he wasn't the only one to feel it; Bylk had stiffened, a reddish gleam on the tips of his fingers.

But then the Growth dipped into his head, pushing his name at him with a lilt to the end of the phrase. There was a lingering hesitance of whether he truly liked it, whether it fit him.

An odd question, to be fair. Not exactly the welcome-home sort.

But for all that he was now Akkyst, he hadn't been an akkyst in a very long time. It was his more than it was the War Horde's; his word instead of theirs. It was him. He nodded.

Excitement, both his and from the mana in his head, thrummed through him.

Welcome home, Akkyst, the Growth murmured.

And he was.