Page 3 of Dweller of the Mists

It was tempting to cling to that logic, except the markings on it were the same as those he found upon those other heavenly artifacts. Likewise, the stranger’s clothing bore these same markings. Was it also from the heavens? He crept closer, descending from the branches as he studied it. Bipedal with a tailless stature not unlike the Bia, but different. Certainly not Bia. Her features were sharper, finer, and pointier than any female of the Bia clans.

Its build was too slight and it did not have fleshy head tendrils but something softer like the hair of the Gwyr, groomedto a surprisingly short length that no member of that vain species would wear. But otherwise it was fascinatingly similar right down to the slender, delicate build that was common among the Gwyr who did not belong to the warring class—or so rumor had it. Was it Gwyr then? They had a love for shaping metal and their unusual sciences that delved further into the nature of their world than any respectable Bia dared.

Some things were not to be tampered with, and the Gwyr had yet to learn that lesson as they pushed further and further. He might have believed what he was looking at was an experiment from the mountains except that the matching markings could not be dismissed, nor would he contemplate that everything he had collected had come from the Gwyr. They had not come from the mountains. He had seen it with his own eyes. He had seen something fall from the sky, just as he had all the previous times he had gone out to collect his little treasures.

The creature swiped its forearm across its brow and turned toward him. His eyes widened with fascination. He could not help climbing down a little farther and drawing a little closer for a better look. How remarkable it was! Although its hair was short, it had a charming appearance from the front with the way the slightly longer length at the front brushed its brow. Its face, the only bare flesh he could see, was of a shockingly pale color like polished stone brought up from the dark water, or the moonlight drifting down through the trees to play upon the water. But its eyes held him captivated for a long moment. They were the bright blue of the skies above the concealing mists.

It was definitely not Gwyr. And judging by the small, high breasts on it, it seemed that it was female.

Gwum settled comfortably on the branch as he peered down at her. The similarity to the Gwyr, however, was uncanny. If not for the wreckage and the unusual markings, he might have believed she belonged to the same species. She could almostpass for one of the wingless variations, if not oddly mutated. Mutations were not unheard of among both the Bia and the Gwyr, after all, and the resemblance to the Gwyr was difficult to deny. As it was, the Gwyr were already known to have winged and unwinged members among their race, so a mutation could have accounted for other oddities.

He moved silently from branch to branch, high within the trees, easily keeping up with her pace while permitting him lengthy periods of observation between each leap. However, the more he watched her pick her way through the trees, the less convinced he was that she could pass for any kind of Gwyr, even a mutated one. Her movements seemed too comfortable within the swamp to be a female from the mountains. Her facial features were far too round and smooth, more so than he believed even Gwyr children possessed. And outside of her lack of wings and coloration, he could not imagine a mutation so extreme that it would deprive her of her horns, a prehensile tail common to all Gwyr males and females, and the sharp talons on her hands and feet.

Those little feet were not doing her any favors either. Gwum scratched lightly behind one pointed ear and smiled at the way she hopped along the roots with less strength and grace than a juvenile Bia.

How adorable. And strange. Nothing about the little female made any logical sense. Even a Gwyr would have leaped far more powerfully than that despite lacking the confidence that she had within the depths of the swamplands. The whole matter was a big, perplexing puzzle. Was she a product of a Gwyr and Bia mating? Such a thing had not happened in generations as far as he knew, and it was too odd to even truly contemplate.

He continued to follow lazily above her, his urgency to return home forgotten as he became lost in admiring the graceful movements of her lithe body. When she was not jumping, shewas very graceful indeed with the way her limbs moved, which just further indicated that she had not evolved from the primal essences of their world, Kren. She was very small, almost childlike, except for the fact that the ripe curves of her form and the fact that she was out in the swamp alone suggested that she was clearly an adult of her species. The strange clothing she wore certainly did not hide her shape any. It clung to her little frame exceptionally well. Her shape was quite pretty, though unusual as Bia females were typically taller and of a sturdier and more powerful build.

Perhaps she had come from offworld? It seemed laughable, and his kin would call him crazy if he said such a thing aloud. They did not have much patience for his imagination beyond thinking of clever ways to heal their people. But she clearly was connected to the heavenly artifacts, and even her wreckage was of such origin. There was no other explanation. And while she was not built for the swamps of Kren, it was clear that the environment was not too much unlike one with which she was familiar. It made him even more fascinated, wondering what far-off place she had come from and what her world must be like.

“What tales would you tell?” he whispered down at her, the quiet pitch of his voice lost within the swamp.

He continued to follow her throughout the day with taciturn determination, leaping among the branches not quite directly overhead but within range of visibility. He was alert not only to her movements but also the activity of the wildlife responding to her passage. He did not hesitate to act, warning off the smaller common predators of the daylight hours with violent hisses as he dropped in startling proximity to them, chasing them away. They slid back into the water with rumbling groans and snapping teeth. Several of them hissed back at him angrily before disappearing into the water or trees. There were few at first, but as the hours wore on and the day grew later, he beganto be concerned. They were growing bolder as night approached, desperate to hunt before night fell. Because then… the larger predators would emerge.

His eyes caught on a crawling zengli dropping rapidly through the tree she was currently navigating, its many pincers widening in readiness for its attack even as the multitudes of its slender legs carried it quickly in its hunt. The long flesh-devouring insect was nearly as big as the female. Silently he dropped upon it, targeting its eyes first with his claws. Blinded, the zengli released a hissing shriek, its body rolling into a ball as it dropped from the branches, taking him with it. Gwum dug his claws on one hand into the bark of the tree, slowing their fall until they landed safely within the massive roots of the tree. Claws digging into the joints of its body, he ripped away its pincers and tore into the vulnerable segments of its flesh.

Gwum had just ruthlessly dispatched the zengli and was considering the best way to butcher one so large when she suddenly changed directions, heading west, deeper into Warderoon territory. He stared in shock for a moment and abruptly abandoned his prey. The sacrifice was small. Zengli were not very good for eating anyway; it was merely his preference to not waste what he killed. Her change in direction worried him. Why was she going that way? Did she not see the territory markers carved into the trees of the inner barrier? Although the boundary trees of the outer barrier were likewise marked, the warnings were milder, expecting the possibility of those who may pass through the territory and tolerating it as long as intruders did not make trouble. But beyond the inner barrier was another matter.

No one who was not of the clan was allowed beyond that point. Although not every tree bore the mark, a good number of them did in a way that the warnings ran up and down the length of the tree, making it hard to miss, regardless of whetherone’s vantage point was from the water or high in the trees. She walked past them, however, as if they were invisible. The Warderoon clan was not going to be pleased.

Gwum moved uneasily along the edge of the barrier, his gaze dropping to her repeatedly before rising back to the marked warning. She was getting farther away with every minute he lingered there. He was curious and felt a strong compulsion to follow. Common sense told him that it was foolish to follow her when he should have been hastily making his way far from the clan’s lands before he overstayed his welcome. While the clans were on peaceful terms, territories were strictly guarded, and his passage through the outer barrier was surely noted by sentries and his presence was going to be allowed for only a limited amount of time. It was a constant reminder that while Warderoon sentries were not attacking, they barely tolerated him passing through.

That was nothing new, however, as there wasn’t a single Bia clan who did not prefer that strangers not pass through their territories as much as possible. Unfortunately, the swamp never considered such borders when it came to what it provided. It did not care who dwelled there in a given territory, or what they might need that it failed to produce for them, which is why he found himself in the Warderoon outer territory to begin with. As a healer, he did not have the luxury to dance around clan politics, but the idea of invading deeper into another clan’s territory gave him pause.

Gwum pressed a hand against the satchel hanging from a strap draped across his chest. Several young nangash plants were nestled inside there with their roots carefully wrapped for the journey back to Shoowilp lands. While he did not mind passing a day following an interesting and strange little female, especially since they had, by chance, been traveling in the same direction, he should not be letting her distract him from whatwas important. His priority was returning home as quickly as possible with the saplings and leaves he harvested from mature plants. While the swamp’s humidity would help preserve them for several days, he needed to return quickly and plant them in his gardens and work on making medicines from the collected leaves. And he needed to do so without delay to reduce the risk of losing any of the tender young plants before they had a chance to establish their roots in his carefully tended soil.

He turned north once more, turning away from the sight of her small, slight form, with every intention of continuing speedily toward the Shoowilp border but he hesitated. What would happen to her if he abandoned her there? If he were no longer watching over her, how long would it take before something became bold enough to attack?

The thought did not sit well with him.

He groaned unhappily to himself. Why did she insist on heading northwest? Technically, she was still moving in generally the same direction, but she had been going due north for hours. What was the reason for the sudden change?

He shifted his weight thoughtfully as he silently climbed back up the tree and navigated the branches until he crouched above her. It was nearly night. He would not be able to travel much farther. He doubted that she would be able to go any farther either once night fell. Already his bioluminescence was responding to the gathering darkness so that he could at least see the small glowing bumps running down his arms. In the dark it would allow him to see anything that was directly in front of him, but the small female below did not have even that advantage. She would not be able to see at all.

Was she already struggling to see her surroundings? She wore strange bits of round metal around her eyes that now glowed faintly, but he did not know how well they served her, especially since her steps were gradually becoming slower andmore careful as night descended. Perhaps she was not truly changing course but merely in search of a place to rest.

He did not know why she would believe that she would find better opportunities for shelter going a little more to the west, but he did have to admit that the giant magnunk trees, while creating convenient root systems for travel, did not lend much in the way of opportunities for weaker species to scale them. It was thanks to possessing powerful limbs and long, strong claws that adult Bia were capable of scaling them successfully without too many issues. Once again, it seemed that she was as vulnerable as a juvenile.

He really ought to accompany at least far enough to reassure himself that she would be able to sleep safely. Then he could leave and fulfill his responsibilities.

Yes, that was the most sensible course of action.

Without further hesitation, Gwum sprung for the next tree, eager to catch up with the little female creeping farther ahead of him. Keeping alert for the presence of any predators or Warderoon males who may be passing through the territory, he followed her through the dense growth as the forest grew thicker and the water levels rose. Everything was lush, and the insects hummed in vast clouds moving through the swamp. He hummed to himself in admiration as he looked around. He always believed Shoowilp lands to be the most beautiful, but he had to admit that there was an unexpected allure to the deeper sunken swamps of the Warderoon territory. No wonder nangash plants grew so well there. He would have to keep that in mind when he established them in their new home.

His curiosity piqued, Gwum took advantage of the opportunity to study the deeper Warderoon swamps, but he never lost sight of his odd little offworlder. He followed her even as the sun dropped low and the luminescence of the forest brightened as the creatures of the night came to life until at lastthey arrived at a little partially enclosed “pond.” At one end, at the highest bit of ground, he could barely make out a large metal structure peeking out from the greenery absorbing it into the swamps. It was there she headed, and it was there he followed. At first he followed slowly, leisurely keeping his distance, but then at a quicker pace when he caught a foul scent from the spores of a familiar predator filling his nose.

A cazka had claimed the pond. That was not good. They weren’t the brightest predators, but they were big and mean. And if it discovered that she was there?—

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