Eight 2: The Way of the Hunter, A LitRPG Adventure

I woke up the next morning feeling like I’d barely slept at all. The whole night had been full of dreams—of spear thrusts, Diaksh words, lessons from qigong, and even memories of the times when Helen and I had gone to couple’s counseling. The fragments left over were a jumble, though, and evaporated with the morning light.

That said, there were some notifications waiting for me.

Woah, that’s a big jump in Stealth, but I guess it makes sense. The trees and bushes, the wildlife, and even the wind—the world was full of intent, and I could see and feel it with my… spirit eyes? That was as decent a name for the ability as any.

I wasn’t very good at sorting through all the sensations yet—at least not without Dog’s Agility—but since I could literally see where attention was being directed, it dramatically improved my ability to hide from said attention.

That blew my mind. Actually, everything that’s happened recently is blowing my mind. I need to ease up on the throttle for a while, let myself catch up to events—figure out what I think and how I feel about them.

Since it was just me and Ikfael in the Glen, the uekisheile could hang out in the open as much as they wanted. I spent the next few days looking like a miniature fuchsia bigfoot as a result—their tufts all over my face, arms, torso, and legs. They enjoyed the freedom, as well as the opportunity to eat different kinds of qi again. I mean, mine was still the most delicious, but the fish and small game I’d caught were also good.

We were a little tentative with each other at first, but we did our best to be ordinary. Ordinary was a balm, a respite from the near fracture between us, as well as all the other weirdness that had surrounded us. And honestly, a couple of days of fixing up the Glen, training, hunting, and fishing was exactly what we needed.

My visit to Voorhei had been a whirlwind of activity, and I’d gotten caught up in the villagers’ pace. I didn’t think that I’d made any bad decisions—what I’d learned at the Hunter’s Lodge was proving very useful—but it was good to take some time to properly process everything. My brain was stuffed with information; it was practically spilling out my ears.

Taking care of myself felt good. Some of that was the uekisheile’s enthusiasm overflowing, but it was also a consequence of all the training. I was young and physically fit, and my qi was denser and richer than ever. And when joined with uekisheile, I was able to experience my qi as they did: a hearty stew, but with the delicacy of a consommé.

Then there was Dog’s Agility. The immediacy, the absolute groundedness in the present, and the rush of going fast, fast, fast—it was like being in the zone while playing an old-school shooter, except amped up by ten notches.

My understanding of qi grew by leaps and bounds. The Qi Body skill hit rank 9, and Qi Body Arts increased to 5. More importantly, when joined with the uekisheile, Dog’s Agility became practical. On my own, managing the flow of qi was out of reach and would take tons of practice, but joined with the uekisheile I flickered through the underbrush, one with the land, like a ghost.

Speaking of which, one interesting fact I learned: there were no ghosts in the Glen. Ikfael kept her territory spiritually spotless. Another fact: she was beautiful. As an otter, she was adorable, but looking at her through spirit eyes gave me the impression of Diana Rigg from the days when she was in the old Avengers TV show with Patrick Macnee. Sleek, lithe, and refined.

Also learned during this time: the uekisheile never got tired of playing with metaphors. They didn’t have enough experiences to draw on, though, so they pressed me for memories and comparisons they could appropriate. Ikfael even got into the game. She’d overheard me talking aloud to the uekisheile about the show and demanded I tell her the story so she could animate it with water.

It’d been too long since I last watched the Avengers, so I kludged together a plot about the two heroes, John Steed and Emma Peel, who were hired to protect a land knight from assassins. The protagonists also had to convince his daughter that her lover in the village was a scammer after her wealth. Well, of course it turned out that the scammer was part of a criminal family plotting to kill the land knight and seize his fortune, and Steed and Peel had to fight the whole lot off.

Three nights in a row, we sat around the campfire telling stories, and each time the knight representing Emma Peel was sculpted by Ikfael to look more and more otter-like. It was amusing to watch.

I tried not to think too much about how much Billisha and Aluali would’ve enjoyed being there. And most certainly, I didn’t worry about the Deer God’s intentions. I decided to put him out of my thoughts and focus on my own path. I already had enough on my hands, and the gods could very well take care of themselves.

I’d promised Ghitha Woldecsbrother that I’d retrieve his dead family members, so on the fourth morning after my return, the uekisheile and I joined consciousnesses and ghosted out of the Glen. Crossing the boundary of Ikfael’s territory felt like moving from a sheltered bay into the wide-open sea. The waters were rough and the waves choppy. We kept our footing thanks to Dog’s Agility, though, and we steered a path between the waves.

At one with the land, with our spirit eyes open and the Dog’s Agility spell active, we saw the forest in a new light. The world still tended to sway and shift—like a rocking boat—but there were steady paths we could follow that avoided where the forest was menacing.

A series of thoughts passed through our combined consciousness:

Can we please stop with the metaphors and similes? They’re distracting.

We should tell Ikfael the story of Moby Dick. She would like it, and would animate it well.

We know so many stories. We were lucky our old world was full of them.

They’re in this world too. The world is made of them—we heard someone say that once. We just have to find the stories.

Or the stories find us, like Ollie/Eight found the uekisheile.

We stuck to the brighter patches where the plants, small animals, and spirits seemed—not friendly, the forest was rarely friendly—more straightforward, as if the creatures were too busy being themselves to take notice of us. As long as we didn’t disturb the green things with our passage, they let us go without interference.

Where we pushed through branches or tall grasses, we apologized. Where the bright path vanished, we moved through the murk quickly, avoiding the clinging vines and angry spirits.

When we were moving at our fastest, Dog’s Agility cost us four points of qi every minute. Moving slowly through the forest, the cost dramatically decreased, and we could stretch those four points to last eight minutes. That meant if we used all our qi, we could maintain the spell for seventy minutes straight.

We wanted qi left over in case we ran into anything dangerous, so we alternated between moving with Dog’s Agility and without—prioritizing our newfound spirit eyes for the areas that looked most dangerous. For example, the kalihchi bear’s territory.

We passed through without a trace.

At the top of the escarpment, above the Lion’s Cave, I scavenged the forest for two stout branches, each about six feet long. I stripped them of their twigs and leaves, then found two shorter branches and stripped them too. Together, along with the netting in my backpack, I’d eventually assemble them into a travois to haul the bodies out of the cave. For now, though, I bundled the pieces for easier transport and dragged them behind me using a rope harness around my shoulders and chest.

I took the path down, noting the areas likely to give a travois trouble. There were places where, when the time came to bring up the bodies, I’d probably have to carry them directly to make sure they didn’t fall over the side.

The cave entrance smelled of old blood and rotting meat. Billisha and Aluali had done a good job getting everything useful from the chliapp lion’s carcass, but there were scraps left behind. I waved away the buzzing flies and tossed them down the cliff face.

Honestly, that was something I should’ve done earlier, but my plans to return to the cave had been delayed. Fortunately, the smell didn’t seem to have attracted anything dangerous. I’ll be careful, though, just in case.

The next room was drier than I’d remembered, but then there’d been no rain for a couple of weeks. I inserted mana into the candlestone around my neck, took a deep breath to settle my nerves, and approached the spiral down into the depths of the cave system.

Long fingers of stalactites reached down the center, and the path wound around them. Thinking about coming back this way with the travois, I decided I should save some qi and mana for this stretch. My muscles were going to need the boost on the way up.

At the bottom, the tunnel was flat and wide, like a predator’s mouth—the stalagmites and stalactites looking like its sharp teeth. A breeze blew past me, the air sucked from above into its gullet.

The tunnel’s ceiling was low, so I crawled through on hands and knees. This was one of the sections I’d worried about most. Coming back with the bodies, I’d have to disassemble the travois, bring the parts through, reassemble it on the other side, and go back for the bodies. The whole process would be multiplied by four for each body.

Ugh. I knew that this endeavor was going to be a slog, but the reality was worse than I’d realized. Still, I’d made a deal with Ghitha, and more importantly, I had an obligation to the dead for the gifts they’d given me.

Better to do it in stages. Bring the bodies here where it’s cool and far enough from the entrance to keep from attracting scavengers. The room next to the Lion’s Cave can be the next staging point after this one. Then the morning Ghitha arrives, I move all the bodies to the Glen for the pickup.

As I was reviewing the plan, it occurred to me that I wasn’t afraid. I was wary, sure, and paying attention to my surroundings, but the last time I’d been here, I was in mortal terror of the uekisheile, the eilesheile, the zombies, and the chliapp lions.

This time, though, I had light, and I knew where the exit was. I was also armed and, with Dog’s Agility, had some confidence in my ability to defend myself. Most importantly, the uekisheile was an ally instead of a threat. I can say that, right? I feel comfortable saying that?

The uekisheile didn’t say anything in response, although I felt their attention. We’d come to an agreement that I could be as slow as I wanted in understanding our… relationship. Is that the right word? Anyway, I was still processing recent events, and the uekisheile had learned their lesson in not rushing me. Us.

I got us moving again, and we found the eilesheile flourishing in the Red Room. The lichen grew on every surface, including the ceiling which had been the uekisheile’s spot.

That amused the uekisheile. Let’s join. It’s our turn to offer something delicious to eat.

We became one and observed the swirling qi in the room. It poured down from the holes in the ceiling, rose up from the cave depths, and flowed in from the exit to mingle and circle the room. This had been our home for so long, and we understood how these currents turned the Red Room into a place that nurtured qi. Also, that qi made things tasty.

The eilesheile shivered at our return. They were dumb, and not once did any of them ever respond to our attempts to communicate. All they were good for—the concept was there, ready for us—was farming. They were our livestock. Flavorful—not as delicious as Ollie/Eight, but good food.

With our hands—thumbs were so useful!—we gathered some of the lichen. The eilesheile didn’t know their place. They fought back with a spike of qi—like a needle!—but we knew their ways. A spike of our own separated them from their qi.

With joy, we severed all the connections to the eilesheile’s qi, rendering their ability to fight back useless. We swallowed a mouthful, and our combined mind blanked as the flavors bloomed in our mouth. Umami. Salty. A little peppery. We were reminded of aged parmesan, truffles, and peppercorns.

A thread of concern arose from the Ollie/Eight aspect of our mind, a worry about poison and… addiction. The last time something was this good, our life had been in danger.

It is safe; their parasitism is impotent before us. We don’t need to fear them. They are not like the Evil Death Mushrooms. There is no poison. No narcotics or psychedelics.

We’d spent ages with the eilesheile. We understood them, like… like a shepherd understood their flock. Ah, another simile. How fun!

This was food dense with flavor and qi, and we felt our reserves refilling from just one swallow. Delicious and powerful, the eilesheile was a valued resource. And our ability to neutralize their parasitism meant we could process the eilesheile into a safe, edible spice. It occurred to us that we were surrounded by taak just waiting to be harvested.

We’d taken some eilesheile the last time we were here. Now, we took more. We just needed to be careful with how it was sold: to protect the secret of its source and keep us safe. People had already died trying to get to the Red Room.

Our mouth watered—the eilesheile would be delicious on roasted chicken or in a lamb stew, on pasta, or even sprinkled on buttered bread. Oh gods above, it would taste amazing on French fries. We were deeply grateful that the children had found potatoes in Voorhei. Our family would love the taste, and we collected even more with them in mind.

Afterward, when I was just me again, and more clear headed, I checked my Status and found no weird conditions. More importantly, I noticed I’d regained ten points worth of qi. The Red Room really was a gold mine. I could only imagine how valuable it’d be during the Long Dark.

The uekisheile was smug. See, we told you it was delicious. And we can trade the eilesheile for walls and live in the Glen with Ikfael and Billisha and Aluali. The family can stay together.

Was that your plan? I thought.

There was no plan. We just wanted to share something delicious. But now we have the knowledge of how to make the eilesheile more useful. Their good mood spilled out into my heart dantian. Ollie/Eight was the one who taught us that knowledge is power. More and more, we understand that truth.