Chapter 3

  Bael had left the cove with a mix of excitement and trepidation, his heart racing at the thought of adventure and the unknown. He had embraced the stories of legendary warriors from his father, carrying those tales like Armor against the uncertainties that lay ahead. Yet, nothing could prepare him for the sight that greeted him as he ventured deeper into the jungle.

  Expecting a battle, he was taken aback by the scene unfolding before him—nearly one hundred of the so-called beasts that prowled the lands, gathered among the branches of trees. They were formidable creatures, their eyes gleaming with a predatory glint, and their bodies coiled like springs ready to unleash chaos. Their Screeches echoing throughout the jungle.

  Before setting out, Bael had felt the bittersweet sting of his mother’s tears as she reluctantly released him from her comforting embrace. He understood her fears; as a young Tortuga but without the shell, she believed he wouldn’t be safe from the dangers of the world. However, his father encouraged him, assuring both of them that he was ready to forge his own path before his 19th birthday.

  “Go, my son,” his father had said with a proud yet anxious smile. “We have taught you all you need to know. Now, it is time for you to step into the world alone.” His mother’s worried eyes had lingered, but Bael felt prepared—physically fit and mentally sharpened by their many sparring matches that left him bruised yet determined.

  As he walked up the hidden path from the cove, he felt the weight of his pack, lovingly crafted by his mother, filled with essentials and some cherished items from his cave. At his side hung the glass blade, a magnificent creation from his sister, a tangible reminder of their bond. Inspired by the epic stories of heroism, he had given his blade a name “Behold, The Bane of the Crimson Ones!” he declared, his voice echoing through the cove, though the ridiculousness of the name elicited fits of laughter from his siblings following him. Their playful mockery only fueled his excitement.

  With jagged rocks scattered throughout the landscape, the terrain was more challenging than he had expected. Yet the physical fitness gained from years of training made the journey manageable. Each step forward brought him closer to the adventure, as he navigated the twisted roots and looming shadows of the jungle.

  The air around him buzzed with the sounds of life, with birds chirping and insects buzzing, creating a symphony of nature that filled him with vitality. As he pressed deeper into the dense undergrowth, movement caught his eye. Through gaps in the foliage, he caught a glimpse of a remarkable sight: a glowing green crystal, easily the size of his body, hanging from the sturdy branch of a large tree.

  His father had shared tales of such wonders—this crystal was home to a unique type of bee, known for producing a rare honey sought after by humans for its purported properties. “You see, Bael, some humans take pills enhanced by different Essence rich natural treasures, Like the honey from those pysonic crystal bees,” he recalled his father saying, though the details of what it did had faded from his memory. Bael often wished he could cling to every fragment of knowledge his father shared about the human world, even the quirky nuances that were sometimes lost amidst their more serious talks.

  In contrast, his mother would sometimes skirt the subject of human kingdoms. She viewed many of their customs and behaviors as lacking in grace and dignity, her disdain evident whenever the topic arose. While she filled his head with tales of wonder and love, she also imparted caution, urging him to tread carefully in a world she deemed devoid of respect for nature and the simple joys of life.

  Yet here he stood, drawn to the intriguing sight of the crystal. It shimmered under the dappled sunlight, its allure calling to him even as a buzzing sound echoed nearer. The thought of those pysonic bees, brilliant and vibrant, Bael felt a rush of curiosity, a desire to see what lay beyond the luminous foreignness of the crystal hive.

  With determination, he decided that this crystal would be his first triumph in the human realm—an opportunity to prove himself worthy of the legacy he carried. It was time to embark on a new challenge and explore the secrets this unusual hive might reveal. As he inched closer, he prepared himself for whatever encounters awaited, knowing that with each step he took deeper into the jungle.

  Lost in thought and excitement over the glowing hive, Bael was suddenly jolted back to reality as a red flash darted past his peripheral vision, accompanied by a loud, startled screech. Instinct kicked in, the adrenaline surging within him like a wildfire.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached deep into his core, drawing upon the earth beneath him. The familiar sensation of his essence flowing through him fueled his determination. In an instant, two massive spikes of compacted earth erupted from the ground, thrusting upwards with lethal precision. They impaled the baboon’s face from either side, halting its surprised screech mid-sound.

  The creature's body slumped to the ground in a crumpled heap, silencing the sudden chaos that had interrupted his thoughts. Bael stood there for a moment, breathless, the gravity of what he'd just done settling in. His heart raced not just from the surge of adrenaline, but from the confidence that flooded his veins. He had acted swiftly and decisively, proving that he was capable in this untamed world.

  A grin broke across his face as he allowed himself a moment of triumph. “Suck it!” he shouted at the crumpled body of the baboon, his voice echoing through the dense jungle. The exhilaration coursed through him, bolstering his bravery in the face of unpredictable dangers.

  As his laughter mixed with the sounds of the jungle, Bael realized that he had crossed a threshold. He was not merely a bystander in this wild world; he had taken the first step towards becoming a participant in the grand tapestry of survival. The baboon’s attack had been a test, a catalyst that ignited something truly profound within him.

  His pulse still racing, Bael took a moment to catch his breath a cacophony of screeching erupted around him from all directions. Crimson, angry baboons filled the branches of the trees like a tempest, their wild eyes glinting with aggression. They jumped from limb to limb, scratching and tearing at the branches, some even hurling stones and sticks in his direction with reckless abandon. The sheer volume of them caused a chill to crawl up his spine, and the confidence that had fuelled him moments before began to fade, replaced with a surge of anxiety.

  As he took in the chaotic scene, everything suddenly felt overwhelming and small in his own mind. He remembered the tales his father had recounted about bloodboons, their claws capable of inflicting grievous wounds and spreading terrible afflictions through the blood—slow, agonizing fates for those unfortunate enough to escape their wrath. They could weave their claws with blood essence in battle, turning them into deadly weapons, and now he stood alone against a swarm.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he puffed his chest out, both to calm his racing heart and to convey determination to the beasts looming around him. He would not back down. He was Bael, a mighty Tortuga, son of Harkraith Tortusa. With resolve flooding his veins, he drew in another deep breath and let out a mighty roar—though in truth, it felt more like a deep yell filled with frustration. It was the anger from his childhood, feeling stifled on the shores of the cove, always trailing behind his siblings. Now, years later, he was finally stepping into the world, and these damned monkeys were trying to thwart the first leg of his adventure.

  Tensing his muscles, Bael tapped into his core, drawing upon his life and growth essence. He spoke to the trees, his voice steady and commanding, forcing the very plants to heed his calls. Vines and branches began to stir, slithering as though alive, weaving through the air as the baboons began to sense the essence building around them in unknown weave. The screeches waned, curiosity and fear replacing their earlier aggression. Bael felt vibrations surge through the earth, a testament to his will.

  “Stupid monkeys,” he muttered, anger fuelling his determination as he twisted his hand through the air. Instantly, the screeches turned to silence. Sharp wooden limbs lashed out, ensnaring the baboons or piercing through their defences with a precision that left no doubt as to Bael's power. Vines wrapped around their limbs, pulling them back into the depths of the trees, silencing their threats in the unfolding chaos.

  But as the last of his essence fled his core, the exhaustion hit him like a wave crashing against the rocks. Bael caught himself with one hand, barely preventing a complete collapse to his knees. He had not pushed himself like that before, and fatigue washed over him, dragging him lower. His father had always said it was important to know his limits, and now those words echoed in his mind like a warning as he fought to steady himself.

  Gritting his teeth, he looked around at the remnants of chaos he had just managed to thwart, the once-wild baboons now retreating in distress. A sense of accomplishment wrestled with fatigue as he slumped onto the ground, still catching his breath.

  Bael looked up through the trees, the sudden silence that enveloped the jungle felt almost deafening. Gone were the screeches of the baboons, replaced instead by the eerie stillness that hung in the air. All around him, the lifeless bodies of the dead baboons stood or dangled in grotesque, twisted forms. Branches impaled them at odd angles, and blood dripped down like a morbid rain, pooling on the leafy ground below.

  Though not all had perished—the few that had survived evidently wasted no time fleeing, not daring to spare a single glance back toward the location of their defeat. In that moment, a surge of triumph bubbled through Bael, the elation of overcoming such a daunting challenge igniting a fire in his chest. “That’s right, you crimson bastards!” he yelled into the silent jungle, his voice echoing off the trees. A huge grin spread across his face as he took in the victory. For a brief moment, he revelled in the power that surged through his being. The world felt vibrant and alive, filled with endless possibilities.

  But as the wave of exhilaration washed over him, Bael suddenly felt a disorienting rush, as if the ground beneath him was shifting. Before he could fully process the draining fatigue that wrapped around him like a shroud, his vision blurred. The reality of his exhaustion caught up with him in an instant, and without warning, he blacked out, collapsing forward to face-plant on the soft, damp floor of the jungle.

  The last thing he registered was the whisper of the leaves hushed around him, an ironic contrast to the roar of his previous triumph. And in that silence, darkness enveloped him, pulling him into a realm of unconsciousness leaving the vibrant chaos of the jungle far behind.

  ***

  “Would you look at that!” Harkraith chuckled, his gaze fixed on the sprawling jungle below from their perch on the rocky overhang. His wife, Torkisha, sat beside him, her expression a mix of worry and pride. Although he couldn’t see Bael’s face down in the dirt, Harkraith could sense his son’s energy, sprawled across the forest floor.

  The thrill of exhilaration pulsed through Bael after defeating over one hundred and thirty baboons, an impressive feat that would mark the beginning of his journey. Harkraith couldn’t help but laugh at the audacity and strength his son had shown. Yet, beneath his amusement lay concern for the lack of restraint Bael displayed. The raw potential was evident, but so too was the lesson he would learn about conserving his essence and staying aware of his surroundings.

  “I still worry about him,” Torkisha sighed, her brow furrowed. “Maybe you should go grab him and bring him back so he doesn't wake up in the jungle.”

  Harkraith shook his head, a grin still playing on his lips. “He needs this, Torkisha. You know that we must leave him be for now, at least until he comes back home. We have to trust him to find his way in the world.”

  His wife pursed her lips, clearly unsatisfied with that conclusion. Knowing her resilient spirit, Harkraith mentally prepared for her response. “Perhaps I can help him out a little,” she said with a gleam in her eyes.

  “Of course, you’re going to do what you want, aren’t you?” Harkraith laughed, knowing full well that her nurturing instinct would not be easily quelled.

  With a gentle wave of her hand, Torkisha closed her eyes, sending her nature and life essence spiralling through the jungle toward their youngest son’s unconscious form. Vibrant energy flowed like a stream, weaving through branches and leaves until it reached Bael.

  Before long, vines and leaves began to twist and turn around him, moving with an ethereal grace. They formed an intricate design, a square canopy of life that appeared almost as if the jungle itself had conspired to protect him. As the beautifully woven blanket settled over Bael, Torkisha infused it with her powerful essence, a soft glow radiating from the fibres. “Just a little more protection for my baby boy,” she murmured, her heart swelling with motherly love. She watched as the blanket enveloped Bael, the pulsating essence intertwining with the living fabric, creating a sanctuary against the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Harkraith sighed, part amused and part proud ss they both gazed down into the depths of the jungle.

  ***

  Bael awoke several hours later to darkness enveloping him like a shroud. As he stretched out his bruised limbs, the discomfort was unexpectedly countered by the soft, woven blanket that cocooned him. The warmth it provided was comforting, wrapping around him in a way that felt familiar and protective. A rush of energy coursed through him, revitalizing him more than he anticipated after an exhausting confrontation with the Bloodboone.

  However, as awareness fully returned, a flush of embarrassment washed over him. His parents had likely sensed everything—the battle, the momentary triumph, and the subsequent exhaustion that led him here. The thought of them watching his every misstep sent heat rushing to his cheeks. Still, part of him was grateful that his father had witnessed him face down those Bloodboone; it was a display of strength Bael had longed to show.

  With a deep breath, he sat up and took stock of his surroundings, the darkness a thick veil punctuated by the rustling of leaves and distant sounds of the jungle. As he gathered his pack, he carefully rolled up the exquisite blanket made by his mother. Knowing her powerful essence was woven into it reassured him; it was not a mere comfort, but a shield imbued with her love and healing magic.

  Feeling a mix of soreness in his muscles and lingering embarrassment, Bael stood tall, shaking off the remnants of his fatigue. Placing his belongings aside he moved to one of the larger Bloodboone corpses nearby, dragging it back over to his pack and removing his blade, he skinned the Bloodboone, exactly how his father had shown him, he could hear his father’s voice explain the reason for each cut in the delicate way the muscle was cut back in a delicate dance of savagery. With the complete skin aside he cleaned him self off, not knowing what to do with the skin, he held it in his hands, he knew he needed to treat it, but the way the leather looked, it seemed to have been treated with the perfect heat to temper the leather slightly, his cuts so perfect this was no need to scrap off any remaining animal fat or muscle, shrugging he gathered his pack and use the longer leather parts of the beasts arms he tied it slightly over his pack, helping to air it out more now that it was time to continue his journey. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and steady his breathing, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.

  As he moved through the gloom of the jungle, he considered lighting a torch but quickly reminded himself of the dangers that could attract unwanted attention. Better to remain stealthy in the dark than to risk encountering another wave of hostile creatures. Trusting his instincts, Bael navigated through the underbrush with care, his senses heightened by the residual surge of his essence. He felt the pulse of the jungle around him as he moved, the living earth resonating beneath his feet with every step.

  The Bloodboone were undoubtedly the strongest creatures inhabiting the jungle, but their dominance derived mainly from their sheer numbers. They were formidable in their strength and swift in their movements, allowing them to overpower most of the other creatures that called this enchanted woodland home. The jungle itself wasn’t overly expansive, wedged snugly between the towering Kortharine Mountains and the distant Kingdom of the Crystal Kings. Like the cove, it remained insulated from the outside world, thriving in its own ecosystem untouched by the hands of civilization.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  As Bael’s eyes adjusted to the faint light, he began to discern the rough outlines of nearby objects and trees, the sparse moonlight filtering through the thick canopy above. Following the overgrown faded path—barely visible from years of disuse—he moved cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his newly forged knife, senses heightened. His father had estimated that the trek through the jungle would only take half a day, leading to a rocky outcropping that served as a natural barrier, concealing the hidden path and the vibrant life of the jungle from the outside world. If someone did not know it was there, they would be unlikely to stumble upon it.

  With each careful step, he focused on the sounds enveloping him— the rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze, distant animal calls, and the whisper of the jungle as it breathed around him. Every instinct urged him to remain vigilant, aware of the slightest sign of movement or danger. The adrenaline from the earlier encounter still tinged the edges of his awareness, making him acutely aware of his surroundings.

  After a while, he came across a small clearing where ferns and low-lying shrubs created a natural respite, momentarily breaking the jungle’s thick embrace. Taking a brief moment to catch his breath, Bael scanned the area, searching for any sign of wildlife or threats. The clearing felt peaceful, but he knew better than to let his guard down completely.

  Finally making it to the stone wall, Bael stood in awe. This was a rare moment; he had never encountered anything beyond the cove and the islands where his father had taken him for training. The massive outcropping loomed before him, ancient and imposing, marking the boundary between the familiar wilderness of his childhood and the unknown world that awaited him on the other side. Excitement bubbled within him, urging him forward, but he decided against charging blindly ahead. Instead, he would set camp here and ride out the rest of the morning until sunrise.

  Pulling on the earth beneath him, he formed a solid, compact cylinder—low and perfect for a seat. It felt good to create something from the very ground he stood on, a reflection of his connection to the land. Next, he gathered twigs and small sticks, meticulously arranging them into a pyramid shape for his fire. Channelling his essence once more, he crafted a barrier of earth around the makeshift fireplace, ensuring it would be safe and contained.

  Reaching for his glass blade, he deftly cut into one of the sticks. Small embers flew from the blade, landing in the dry leaves and kindling nestled in the centre of the pyramid. With a spark, the tiny fire ignited, dancing to life in the stillness of the night. The flames flickered warmly, casting a gentle glow and illuminating the stone wall that loomed behind him.

  With a fire at hand and his newly created seat nearby, Bael settled down, the warmth wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. He reflected on his next steps, gazing into the flames. “Just over this pass is the human kingdom,” he murmured aloud, lost in thought. The prospect both thrilled and intimidated him. “Do I just walk up to the first one I see? Excuse me, sir, but do you know where I can find an adventure or something interestingly human to do?”

  He chuckled to himself, but the laughter soon faded into a low grunt of frustration. “I’ve spent so long training and thinking about other adventures that I don’t even know what I should do.” His confidence began to waver as he sat in the flickering light, staring into the fire. The hypnotic dance of the flames pulled him deeper into contemplation, each flicker sparking new worries and questions in his mind.

  What awaited him beyond the stone wall? Would he be ready to face the complexities of human societies, with their customs, laws, and potential hostilities? Did he really have what it took to carve out a destiny beyond the safety of the cove, or was he simply a child playing at adventure?

  With his resolve quietly rekindled, Bael focused on the flickering flames, allowing the fire to ignite his spirit once more. With a sudden jolt of inspiration, Bael sprang to his feet next to the flickering fireplace. He drew upon the essence from his core, feeling the familiar warmth spread through him as he focused intently. The earth beneath him responded, solidifying and slowly taking shape. With concentration, he formed a humanoid figure, a golem that stood as tall as Bael himself, fittingly built in a manner that mirrored his own physique.

  Everything about the golem was nearly perfect—the proportions, the sturdy build—but the face remained simplistic, characterized only by two black stone dots for eyes and a curved line that formed a smile. It was a design Bael had settled on long ago, having made smaller golems as a child, which he’d used to act out the adventures his father had recounted. However, he had never quite managed to craft a true face settling for this childlike aesthetic.

  The golem stood strong and simple, exuding a sense of stability as it faced Bael. Slowly, he extended his arm forward, and to his delight, the golem mirrored his movements, the stone arm connecting gently with his own. “Nice to meet you, sir! I’m Bael Tortusa,” he declared, attempting to recall the etiquette his mother had once mentioned in passing.

  “Sorry to bother you, good sir,” he continued, reaching once more for the golem's hand. “I’m Bael Tortusa. And what is your name?” After a brief pause, he added with a grin, “Oh well, it is very nice to meet you, Mr. Rock Human!” His cheeks flushed with mild embarrassment at his own awkwardness, even knowing full well that the stone figure wouldn't judge or think less of him.

  Encouraged by the friendly presence of his creation, Bael practiced his introductions, repeating the exchange again and again. Each iteration seemed to lift the weight of discomfort from his shoulders, allowing him to feel a little less intimidated by the prospect of meeting humans. By the time morning fully arrived, he felt a sense of confidence growing within him, bolstered by the supportive, silent company of his golem, which he had affectionately named Fred Stoneman.

  The name Fred came from a hero in one of his father's stories—Freddrick Kimmpleato, a giant of a man who had fought alongside Harkraith and a Beastkin named Ikkist against an Ancient Deep Crow. Just as Freddrick had been an unwavering ally to his father, so too did Bael feel a bond with his golem, finding comfort in the idea that he had created a companion to help alleviate his anxiety.

  With a sense of finality, Bael moved to extinguish the fire, ensuring that the embers were fully snuffed out beneath a layer of dirt and ash. He gathered his belongings, making sure the precious blanket crafted by his mother was securely stowed in his pack. Before departing, he shook Fred’s stone hand one last time, feeling a warmth in the gesture that transcended the coldness of stone.

  “Take care, Fred Stoneman,” Bael said with a smile, appreciating the companionship the golem had provided in such a short time. As he stepped away, he glanced back at Fred standing by the now-quiet fireplace, a sentinel of encouragement amidst the memory of his preparation.

  The sight of Fred, solid and unwavering against the backdrop of the jungle, filled him with a resolute sense of hope. “I’ll come back for you,” he promised, a thrill of anticipation dancing in his chest as he continued toward the path leading through the rocky outcropping that formed the wall.

  The path was rugged and lined with stones that crunched underfoot, each step resonating with the weight of his journey. The dawn light began to filter through, casting a warm glow upon the landscape ahead, hinting at the wonders and challenges that awaited him beyond the mountain pass.

  As he walked onward, Bael’s thoughts turned to the future. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to return to this spot, to Fred, not as the boy who had left the cove but as a man seasoned by adventure. He envisioned stories to share and lessons learned—about himself, about humans, and about the world beyond his cove.

  “I wonder what adventures we will share when I return,” he mused aloud, a smile tugging at his lips. The thought of reuniting with Fred Stoneman, to recount his experiences.

  As Bael navigated the gentle ascent of the rock wall, an hour slipped by in the sheer delight of taking in his surroundings. Each step brought new wonders—vivid greenery creeping between the stones, the calls of distant birds echoing above, and the sense of adventure swelling within him. He felt at peace with the world, confident and excited for what lay ahead.

  However, that tranquillity shattered in an instant. The sound of scraping claws against the rock and small stones dislodging from above broke through the serene ambiance. Bael froze, his heart quickening as he realized the cause: an Axebeak, a massive bipedal bird with an axe-shaped beak, was digging through the crevices up ahead. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of the aggressive creature, its powerful form radiating an unsettling energy as it searched for something hidden amongst the rocks.

  His father’s lessons echoed in his mind, offering a stark reminder of the dangers that lay in wait in the wild. The Axebeak was notorious for its aggressive nature, particularly if it was guarding a clutch of eggs. Bael instinctively remembered the stories: ferocious hunters that drew upon earth elemental abilities to wreak havoc on anything that threatened their nests. He had no intention of becoming a target for a creature like that.

  Crouching low, he pressed himself against the rocky wall, the coarse surface grounding him as he assessed the situation. The Axebeak’s keen eyes darted around, and he could see it methodically pecking at the rock, looking for prey. Twice, it lifted its head, scanning the area as if it could sense Bael’s presence. He knew he had to remain still, refusing to give away his position.

  He had a choice to make: engage the creature and risk a dangerous confrontation or find a way around without alerting it. The plant life around him offered some cover, the scattered shrubs and low branches could provide him with a way to evade the monster's notice.

  Taking a deep breath, Bael chose discretion over confrontation. Slowly, carefully, he began to edge backward, seeking a path that would allow him to circumvent the Axebeak without drawing its ire. The weight of his knife at his side reassured him, but he knew there was no honor in recklessly challenging an opponent that had the upper hand.

  With each calculated movement, Bael remained hyper-aware of the sounds emanating from the Axebeak. He carefully threaded through the low brush, taking another glance at the creature, which remained engrossed in its quest for food. He was gradually finding a way around, making silent progress while keeping his breath low and steady.

  As he crested an outcropping, he finally spotted a narrow opening that led around the back side of the rock wall. It was just wide enough for him to squeeze through, a narrow escape route that would take him safely past the Axebeak.

  Feeling the earth essence shift around him, Bael acted fast, raising a sturdy wall of earth to protect himself as the Axebeak barrelled through the underbrush. The massive bird, easily half his size, crashed through his makeshift defence with alarming force, its fierce eyes locked onto him behind its razor-sharp beak.

  The instinctual fear that raged within him was quickly tempered by the memories of his father’s teachings. He knew the creature was not just a mindless predator; it wielded earth elemental abilities that would give it an edge in a confrontation. As he felt it weaving essence through the ground and air around him, he tensed his legs and leaped backwards, putting distance between himself and the threatening avian.

  In a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation, Bael raised his hands, pulling essence from the earth to summon sharp spikes that shot up from the ground towards the Axebeak. However, the moment his attack struck the creature, the spikes met an impenetrable force and halted just inches away, as if the Axebeak had somehow regained control over the very elements he was attempting to manipulate. “That’s not good,” he muttered, panic creeping in.

  Before he could react any further, the ground lurched beneath him. An earthquake-like force surged from the Axebeak, launching him backwards at alarming speed. The impact echoed throughout the jungle as he crashed violently, creating a crater around him where the earth buckled and broke under the weight of his fall.

  Bael slowly pushed himself up, dusting off the remnants of the ground that clung to him. A rush of eagerness coursed through him like fire; although he'd emerged victorious against the Bloodboone, there had been a lingering desire to prove himself and experience the thrilling challenges of an epic battle.

  As he regained his footing, he noticed Fred standing nearby, his stony figure facing him resolutely. The golem’s simple, smiling face offered a sense of reassurance amid the chaos. “Hi, Fred,” Bael said with a nod, comforted by his silent companion. He breathed deeply, feeling as though he might be in for more than he’d bargained for.

  But before he could gather his thoughts or form a plan, the ground trembled ominously again. Just moments before spikes erupted from the earth next to him, he sprung forward, avoiding the sharp formations by mere inches. He landed in a crouch, eyes darting in the direction of the Axebeak.

  The monstrous creature was now stalking towards him, a predator that let out an ear-piercing screech as it charged down the path. The earth beneath Bael’s feet turned soft and treacherous, attempting to slow him down or drag him into its depths. “Not today!” he shouted defiantly, knowing that he needed to counter the creature’s advantage quickly.

  Bael concentrated, pulling on the surrounding earth to fortify his stance and crystallize his resolve. He summoned his essence with greater focus, merging the surrounding elements with his own will. Feeling the vibrations of the earth beneath him, he began to channel energy toward Fred, willing the golem to join him in the fight. “Let’s do this together!” he called out, determined to face the Axebeak head-on.

  As the beast closed in, Bael intently channelling essence into Fred’s sturdy form, drawing from a deep, primal well that resonated within him. His earth and life essences intertwined, merging the strengths of his lineage from both his father and mother, flowing seamlessly into Fred and the surrounding environment. He felt a strong current of energy, wild yet beautiful, as he attempted to wrest control back from the aggressive Axebeak.

  Every muscle in his body strained as the power surged through him, the intricate weave of essence stretching far beyond his comprehension. Yet, in that moment, Bael found clarity; his will interlaced the energies in a way that felt undeniably right. Time seemed to slow around him, sharpening his focus as he locked eyes with the approaching threat.

  The colossal Axebeak charged forward, its menacing screech echoing through the jungle, but that sound was soon overlapped by the rustling of nature awakening to his command. Vines and branches sprang to life, reaching out like the tendrils of a guardian, grasping and slashing at the beast as it ran. Wounds began to form along its sides, deep lacerations caused by the fierce swipes of vegetation, but the Axebeak seemed undeterred, its primal instincts driving it toward its intended target.

  Bael could feel the essence within Fred’s stone body intensifying, building into something vibrant yet unknown—a manifestation of their combined strength. In that slow-motion moment, Bael’s mind sharpened, brimming with a potent energy and connection to the world around him.

  Just feet away, the Axebeak grew closer, rearing its head back for a vicious strike against Bael. But before the attack could land, Fred surged forward, a formidable wall of stone and resolve. The impact was sudden and ferocious as Fred’s body collided with the Axebeak, propelling both of them off into the jungle's depths.

  Time snapped back into its usual rhythm as Bael stood there, frozen in shock and exhaustion. He watched the tumult of motion—trees swaying violently from the force of the clash, leaves falling like heavy rain as the two massive figures tumbled away.

  After a breathless moment, he moved closer to the edge of the chaos, peering through the trees that bordered the jungle. To his amazement, the dust began to settle, and a reassuring sight emerged: through the debris, Fred walked back into view, looking undeterred and steadfast. He held in tow the defeated Axebeak, dragged along by the powerful vines that had ensnared it.

  In breathless silence, Bael stood rooted in place, awash with a mix of excitement and exhaustion as Fred approached. The golem drew closer, dragging the defeated Axebeak behind him, its powerful form a testament to their combined strength in overcoming the formidable adversary.

  Bael's excitement surged fiercely within him, battling against the weariness that clung to his limbs like a heavy cloak. He felt his heart racing, the adrenaline of the battle reverberating through him like a drum, encouraging him to celebrate the victory before him. With a burst of delight, he lifted his arms toward the sky, his voice ringing out in a joyous yell of praise for Fred. “Way to go, Fred! You did it!” he shouted, his words echoing through the jungle, fuelled by exhilaration and adrenaline. But the moment of triumph quickly turned, the immense strain of channelling his essence finally catching up to him. His body, once buoyed by excitement, gave way under the exhaustion of the incredible power he had summoned.

  As the shout left his lips, Bael felt a wave of fatigue wash over him like a tidal surge, pulling him down toward the ground. His weakened legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled to the earth. The strain on his channels, the exertion of his core—everything collided at once, and for a brief moment, he felt as though he was losing his connection to the world around him.

  “I can’t believe we did it,” he murmured to himself, revelling in the afterglow of their victory despite his physical fatigue. The experience, exhausting as it was, had reinforced the bond between them, proving that together they could face whatever challenges awaited.

  Lulled by the warmth of the sun filtering through the trees and the hum of the jungle surrounding him, Bael tried to fight the creeping drowsiness tugging at him. He pushed it aside, pulling himself back upright, determined to gather his strength. "We’ve got to keep moving, Fred," he said as he steadied himself, drawing on the last remnants of his energy, But Fred was there, looming protectively over him, the gentle hum of earth essence radiating from the golem acting as a comforting presence. As Bael lay there catching his breath, he looked up at his stone companion, before he collapsed back down to the ground, darkness enveloped him, A tired, yet triumphant smile spreading across his face.

  A full day and a half passed as Bael rested and began the long process of recovery. The exhaustion he had felt while fighting the Bloodboone paled in comparison to the strain he had experienced when channelling his essence to animate Fred and fight off the formidable Axebeak. His channels were strained and sore, as if he had pushed his very being to the limit, and bruises mingled with his primal markings, adding depth to an already intricate tapestry of nature that danced along his skin.

  To heal, Bael devoted a significant amount of time to sitting in meditation, cultivating the essence around him. He focused on soothing the ache in his channels and replenishing his depleted core, drawing in the energy that flowed through the vibrant world enveloping him. The whispers of the jungle harmonized with the steady rhythm of his breath.

  Occasionally, he would open an eye to watch Fred, who stood vigilant nearby. The golem’s presence was a source of comfort, a reminder of their connection forged in the heat of combat. But as the days wore on, Bael found himself pondering the profound implications of what had transpired. The act of bringing Fred to life had felt instinctual in the heat of battle, but now, reflecting on it with a clearer mind, he recognized it as something extraordinary—something he shouldn’t have been able to accomplish.

  In his quiet moments of contemplation, Bael also noticed something else: the tattoo-like markings covering his body had subtly changed. They had become more defined and tangible, twisting and curling in intricate patterns that resembled serpents weaving around him. He could feel the energy within them pulsing in time with his own essence, stronger and more vibrant than before. Although he couldn't see the largest marking on his back, he sensed that it, too, had undergone a transformation.

  “What does it all mean?” Bael whispered to himself in the stillness, wondering about the changes that had taken place within him. The connection to his ancestry, the merging of earth and life essence, and the awakening of new abilities—he could feel it all aligning, yet it remained just beyond his comprehension. The tattoos seemed to resonate with the primal strength of the world around him, integrating deeper into his connection with nature and magic.

  As he meditated, focusing on aligning his essence with the jungle's energy, he began to experiment with subtle movements, weaving small bits of life essence into the vines and flora around him. The plants responded almost instinctively, stretching toward him, as if acknowledging a bond that had been strengthened during his trials. Each delicate interaction fuelled his curiosity, and he felt a surge of hope that he was beginning to understand the depths of his capabilities.

  Days turned into an intricate dance of healing and exploration, and as Bael continued to recover, he couldn’t ignore the growing excitement within him. He had been forged through adversity, and he was beginning to glimpse a path forward—a path where he could merge his abilities with Fred, drawing upon their bond to face whatever challenges awaited in the world beyond the stone wall.