Andrew Thompson
Stories
8
Chapters
3,542
Words
1.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
4 d, 23 h
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“Here,” the elder put a bowl of freshly baked potatoes on the table. “Your mother made these.” Dallion nodded while stuffing his face with the remaining few pieces of bread left. He had been gulping down food with the speed of a vacuum cleaner for the last ten minutes and was only able to reduce the craving. Up to today, the boy didn’t think that such hunger was possible. The experience in the realm of the Well, though, had taken a lot from him. “She sends you her best, as do the rest of the…-
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“Huh?” The village chief blinked as Dallion let go of his hand. That wasn’t the only change. The stone well had become completely transformed. Nearly double in size, it now had two separate sections as well as a fountain head pouring water directly without the need of a bucket. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The well challenge should have been the end of Dallion. Even with his second skill—a feat that Aspion had no idea how the boy had accomplished—improving the well had to be impossible.…
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The boy rushed to the spot. There was a small hole in the rock, no larger than a punch bowl. In it, curled up, was a small panther-like cub. Sensing Dallion, the cub opened a lazy eye, then suddenly jumped up, hissing with the ferocity of a YouTube kitten. “You’re the last beast?” The boy blinked. He knew that the creatures were bad—a representation of the cracks and decay in the well’s surface. Killing it would be a good thing, not to mention earn him a hundred percent mending rate. Even so,…
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Stars. Until now Dallion had never realized how much he missed them. Not the few pale dots he saw from the city, real stars, covering the sky like salt on a black napkin. Even the moons had lit up, emanating a crisp colored glow. Lying on his back, Dallion raised his hand up, as if stretching to grab hold of one. It was childish, but right now he wanted to be a child, at least for a little longer. The fight against the pack had exhausted him—more physically than mentally—to the point of collapse. He…
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Whoever said that the larger a creature, the slower its actions clearly had no idea what they were talking about. As Dallion found out, the pack-panther was not only big—roughly the size of an elephant—but also had reflexes rivaling his own. The first time it attacked, the boy barely had the time to evade by following the guard skill markers that had appeared. What was more, the beast had no intention of letting him make use of his specials, interrupting the boy mid sequence with further consecutive…
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As night fell and Dallion prepared mentally for his inevitable battle against the pack, one thing became alarmingly apparent: while wounds didn’t require medical attention while in the awakened state, the pain and discomfort remained. Doing a few mocks attacks, even after a bit of rest, remained sluggish, especially the attacks. The annoying creature that had annoyingly managed to wound his sword arm had significantly reduced the boy’s flexibility. The boy focused his attention on the mountain peak.…
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The attack footstep markers lead on into a chamber where they split into dozens of options. The chamber was more den than lair—the creatures had grouped in one giant blob in the center, snoring away. By crude estimates there had to be at least six creatures there, possibly more. If he caught them by surprise, Dallion could kill at least half of them, six if he used his attack skill adequately... and that’s what he did, charging forward without a moment’s thought. Dallion ignored the rectangle as he…
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Adequate light made Dallion appreciate the realm of the Well a whole lot more. Maybe it was due to him killing off—or “mending” as the awakened term went—a lot of the area’s creatures, or maybe it was the effects of morning, but the unwelcoming feelings of fear and dread that hung in the air the previous day were gone. If it wasn’t for the complete lack of plants or forest animals, this would easily pass for a perfect hiking trip in nature—again, minus the actual nature. The air felt fresh,…
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Fighting a pack was very different from fighting a group of creatures. An individual creature, even a strong and intelligent one, had one course of action. Thanks to the markers his skills provided him, Dallion could see that action and react in the most suitable fashion. Whether it was one, three, or five panthers that attacked, he had the speed to protect himself then counterattack, usually resulting in an instant kill. The pack had a wholly different behavior. At this stage it was no longer a tactical…
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The realm of the Well turned out to be quite real, and very very large. Dallion spent hours walking in the direction of the large mountains before it became obvious that it would take weeks, if not months, to reach them. If there was a way to escape this place, that wasn’t it. Apparently, the village chief hadn’t lied when he had said that the only way to exit was to defeat the guardian… or fail trying. “Kill the monsters, defeat the guardian,” Dallion said. His football coach in high school had…
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