“I’m not dead. Not yet.”
Not dead. Not...dead.He brimmed with excitement. “Then why are you here, if you are not bound to something I picked up from the goblins I killed?” he asked, eager now for information, anything that might lead him to her. His curiosity was piqued. The need to sniff her out grew.
She knew about the orcs and goblins, and possibly information about the leaders of the local tribes. Knowledge his brothers needed.She could know more.
“Come to me,” the female said again and nothing more.
He snarled. He rose and reached for her, but his fingers passed through her arm, through air.
She huddled next to the fire, practically atop the flames. Her arms were curled tight across her stomach and he watched as she slid down the back of the wall and bent her knees toward her chest. The longer he watched her, towering over her in the small space of his cave, the more he knew that she was not frightened of him. Anger coursed through his veins.
She should be frightened. I should terrify her.
“Come where?” he asked, feeling he had to continue the conversation for it to end.
She began to fade before his question ended, and his throat tightened. Astegur growled and more smoke added itself to the murky cave. He could not help her. For all he knew, she really was a ghost. Or a trick of the mist, or worse, fairies. He did not care for the welfare of anything in this world but for himself, his brothers and the future lands they planned to conquer.
Suddenly, something thick and invisible wrapped itself around his throat. An itch formed at the tips of his fingers where they had passed through her arm.
He shook the feeling off.
“Please,” she said, her voice laced with torment and urgency. Her ghost nearly gone from this world.
He realized he did not want her to vanish, even if she was nothing more than a trick. He surged forward to grasp at her again but it was too late. Like before, his hands fell through smoke and came out on the other end clutching nothing.
She was gone as quickly as she appeared, taking the sound of the centaur war party with her.
Astegur roared and slammed his battleaxe right into the rock of the cave, feeling his muscles bulge out and harden as if preparing for an attack.She’s gone.
“Tricks,” he growled. “Bleeding magic by tainted mist beasts.” He spat.
One could see a great many things in the mist, but not all of it was real. Delirium had a way of holding onto the weak of mind—especially when the air itself was cursed. Magic infused everything here. No one trusted it, even if they used it. Respect was like that sometimes.
He grabbed his weapon, yanked it out of the wall, and wiped the dirt and dust from the blade. He looked back toward the fire, searching for the female despite already knowing she would not be there. Fake or not, trick or truth, her plea had seemed real.
He watched the fire for a time, pondering.
She had been unearthly and weak, but weak-looking beings were often the strongest in the labyrinth. They used their appearance as a lure to separate the strong from their tribes. His brothers would not agree, but unlike them, he found it important to study and learn everything he could about the world. He asked questions where the rest of his brothers did not. It was his job to know.
It was why he was out in the world instead of rebuilding their tribe.
Astegur grabbed one of the hobgoblin satchels he collected and tossed it into the fire, it was time to finish the day and say last blood rites to all those he had killed.
“I offer the dead to you.” He lowered his head, his horns facing the flames that came up to lick them. “May this plunder and sacrifice feed you, and if by your allowance, may the sparks of the dead reach the light and their bodies remain unused by the mist.” He settled back when he was done, uncaring whether or not the mist used their bodies.
His thoughts returned to the female and the distant war party.
If it wasn’t a trick, then the centaurs may be on the move.If that were so, it meant two things: they were leaving their lands unprotected, and the only direction they could go was west or north… And if it were north, they would be heading through the wetlands that bordered the mountains of his home.
But he already knew that...
Astegur lapped at his fingers to alleviate the itch growing under his skin. It was the only thing that remained of the entire incident.
He closed his eyes and put the bleak day behind him.
Tomorrow, he would make his way back home and tell his brothers of all that he had learned. They would gather their weapons and potions and take control of the lands they had traveled far to claim.
It was time to go to war.
