SFS - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

AN: No, I didn’t give it a short name just because I spelled supremacy wrong every time I’ve tried. I dunno what you’re talking about. (¬_¬")

— — —

Drip!

Drip!

Drip~!

A thin, pale light flickered just beyond my eyelids. I struggled to open them, and felt my entire body groan in protest. Everything ached with the mountain’s fury. I could still feel the cold impacts in my bones, though a subtle warmth filled me.

Incense burned somewhere, though it failed to cover the scent of bitter medicine staining my nose. The hateful pain was a sign that I was still alive, at least. 

“Easy,” a sickly female voice called to me in a low, but steady tone. Fingers pressed into my fur and forced me back down while gently rubbing at my battered bones. 

“Yi—!” My throat felt unbearably raw when I tried to make a noise. My snout curled up in annoyance.

“Peace, my small friend. Heaven still favors you.” The thin, wavering voice returned, and warm hands helped me lift my head. The woman slid a cushion under my head to keep it propped open. 

I struggled to keep my eyes open. Everything was a bit of a blur, but I could make out red sandalwood beams and latticed windows looking out into a storm-clad sky. Water leaked from one of them and steadily plinked into a bowl set out to catch the leak.

A large bronze statue of a monk gleamed in the room, looking out onto the space. The same blue-flame lanterns that were in the last place flickered across the defaced and cracked statue. The pipes here were rusty and dull though like this place hadn’t seen much care.

I blinked tears out of my eyes and focused on the hunched figure leaning over me. She fiddled with something—needles? Dozens of silver and gold needles stuck out of my body. My ears flattened to the side of my head. Nausea churned inside me, which caused the needles to tremble and bob around.

The large hunchback stretched out a familiar seven-fingered hand and patted my head. The motion felt indescribably cozy and soothing, which drew my attention away from the needles sticking out of me. “Your treatment is almost done.”

”Yip,” a cracked call broke out of my throat. I lost my strength and my head collapsed back down onto the cushion. 

“Easy now. When you wake up, all will be better.” She patted my head one more time and then lifted something up to my nose. A floral scent washed over me, and lulled me away.

——

I blinked the sleep from my eyes. My paws easily found purchase on the cushion below me, and levered me up into a sitting position. My side pulled weirdly with the motion, but it didn’t hurt anymore. That was a big bonus.

It was in and out of consciousness after my treatment. My memories were dull and confusing pieces of fresh food, gentle pats, and sleep. They were like shattered pottery with the pieces difficult to put back together. If I had to guess… it’d been maybe a week or two since the avalanche?

I shook my drowsy head, and my ears flopped around lightly. I felt… okay? Not great, but definitely better than when I first fell down the mountain. I looked better too. Aside from the bitter medicinal bandages covering my side, I was all cleaned up. My fur was back to luxurious white.

I wasn’t the only one here, either. All around me, scattered across a dozen altars turned into treatment beds, lay a dozen creatures. Most were animals of various kinds, though there were a few humans. I was alone in that I didn’t have scattered scales poking out of my flesh like they did. Thankfully, they were all fast asleep. 

A hound of some kind in particular caught my sight. It curled up on one of the makeshift treatment altars, and was wrapped in layers of bitter bandages. The hunting dog’s every breath came out labored and sharp. The blue-flame lamps glinted on scales growing out of the poor creature’s throat. They looked like recent growths too given the blood welling up around the edges of the scales.

What is that? The monster back up at the courtyard also had those weird scales poking out of them. As if in answer to my question, a sharp pain throbbed on top of my paw. I lifted it just in time to watch a silver fluid flow out of me. 

The metallic curled and defied gravity, forming a circlet floating just around my paw. Sharp thorns pushed out of the smooth surface like needles. The thorns pulsed, and then melted back into the smooth metal only for the process to repeat elsewhere along the band.

I froze and stared at the silver metal. What—?

As if sensing my focus, the metal pulsated one more time and melted. It smoothly flowed up into a small tome floating just in front of me. It was silver, and covered in thorn brambles. The book trembled, and then flicked open to a new page.

[Insufficient Records…]

[Collect further Records…]

I didn’t know the script, but I could understand it perfectly. It was weird, though, and constantly shifted like it didn’t know what it wanted to be. Somehow, that didn’t matter. Its meaning couldn’t be clearer to me.

 I hesitantly stretched out a paw and tapped on the book. My paw passed straight through the tome like it was fog. The pages rustled anyway like some invisible force was acting on it.

 The silver pages flipped a dozen more times and settled on something near the front. The silver reflected the blue-flames of the gas lamps all around the temple, and that same strange script etched itself into the metallic substance.

[Spirit Fox

Record Level: 1]

Spirit Fox? Is that… that’s definitely me, yip? The book bobbed as if to agree with me. What was this—

“Awake already?” My savior from before asked faintly from a shadowed doorway. Her features were entirely hidden under hooded heavy robes. The familiar seven fingers of her hand stretching out from a wide sleeve set my mind at ease, though. “As expected of a Spirit Beast.”

“Yip?” I glanced back toward the tome, but it’d vanished at some point. A light throbbing in my paw reminded me that it was still there. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the silver, spiky metal pressed into my paw. The… Record? Whatever it was lurked and waited for my call.

”What is it?” The woman shuffled over to a pot of soup off to the side of the room and filled a bowl with a ladle. One hand was a stitchwork of seven fingers, and the other was a normal hand with just five. It lacked the stitches too. “I imagine you’re hungry, little one.” 

She brought over the steaming bowl of food, and the scent of it made my stomach growl. “Yip-yip?”

I hesitantly sniffed and lapped at the warm broth. It went down without much issue. It didn’t really have a taste outside of bitterness, and was closer to water than anything substantial. Still, I was hungry enough it felt like a glorious feast spread out in front of me.

The woman stroked one of the bandages on my side, causing a whimper to break out of me. My tail curled protectively over the injury, and my ears flattened to the sides of my head. Although she’d taken care of me, instincts roared to protect myself. I resisted the urge to go further and bite the hand that fed me, though.

“Sorry, my vulpine friend.” She backed away, and her hood drew back for a moment. I caught sight of patchwork skin stapled and sewn together across her neck before the shadows obscured it once more. “I need to replace them.”

”Yow…” I dropped my head and straightened out to give her better access. She was obviously a healer of some kind, so I should let her work. Even if my instincts were against it, yip.

”Who knows?” She lightly patted my side. “This might become a beautiful Scar, Little Snow.”

”Yip?” She said that weirdly. A Scar? A shiver went down my spine. Why’d she emphasize that word so heavily?

She worked quickly while I tried to distract myself with eating. In no time, she had the bandages off and started to put on a fresh set from where they’d been soaking in a pot of something bitter. “It seems Heaven blesses your recovery. As long as you don’t do anything strenuous—“

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Pounding came from the entry hall into the temple turned clinic. A moment later, a gruff voice shouted through the building. “Graft, you creature, open up!”

“Purity Scholars.” Graft, the woman who saved me from the avalanche, froze. The title spilled from her mouth like a curse. Then her hands flew to finish rebandaging my side.

She lurched to her feet and shuffled to a shelf to grab a satchel. A third hand escaped the confines of her robes, and all three worked with scissors and a sewing needle on the satchel to make something a little more my size.

I sat up. Something in her voice and frantic motions tipped me off that the situation wasn’t quite right. I felt the fur along my neck spike up. “Yip?”

“Quiet, little one.” She stuffed a bunch of hard bread and some herbs into the bag. Then, as if remembering something, stashed several bottles of pills into the satchel. 

“Graft! Don’t make me break down this door!” The gruff man called again, and slammed the door rougher than the first time.

”I’m coming!” Graft pulled out a piece of parchment from a nearby rack and her three hands all picked up charcoal sticks. In mere moments, she drew out a rough map and stuffed it into the pack.

“Yip?” I only got a quick look at the map, but it seemed like we were in a temple somewhere on the edge of a mountain village. 

She calmed down and roughly scratched the top of my head. The charcoal residue on her hand rubbed into my white fur. Her other two hands wrapped the satchel around my back in such a way that I could easily access its contents with my snout. “Run to the mountain shrine, Little Snow, and give the old scholar this medicine. He owes me.”

“Yi? Yip, yip?” Why can't I stay here with you? My head throbbed lightly. This place may smell and feel strange, but it was warm. There was a person here who cared for me, at least, and that beat out anywhere else I’d been so far.

“No time to explain.” She lightly picked me up and carried me to the far side of the tattered temple. She set me down in front of a small hole in the wall barely big enough for a critter my size to fit through. It looked like something dug a tunnel into the temple a long time ago. “You need to leave, though. There’s no telling what they’ll do to you if they find you.”

“Yip?” Who’s they? Were they the monsters from before? The ones with the detached heads? Wait—no, this one used more than just hi. 

“Follow the cliff edge to the wrap around back to the village. The map will guide you.” Graft ruffled my fur one more time and turned away. Then, as if remembering something, she turned back with a sterner voice. “Oh, and don’t approach anyone except those marked on the map. Most of the villagers… they’re not right.”

“Yip-yip!” I ducked into the hole, though turned back before leaving the warmth of the treatment hall. 

“Good luck, Little Snow.” Graft waved me off with one hand while the other two fixed up her robes and pulled her hood deeper. She dipped her hooded head toward me and left through the door that she initially appeared from.

A heartbeat later, the shouting began. “—watchmen reported you digging around the avalanche site! Surely you haven’t started treating anything else, have you, Graft!”

”Milord, it’s just me and the patients.” I picked out Graft’s weak, sickly voice with my sharp hearing.

”Then you won’t mind us searching. Spread out!” The gruff voice ordered. “And someone watch her. Don’t give her a chance to use any foul sorceries.” 

Boots thundered across the stone floor of the entry hall. There were easily dozens of them, though I couldn’t pick out their exact numbers. My ears flattened and I slunk deeper into the passage. They were coming this way.

The last of my hesitation vanished. I scrambled deeper into the narrow passage just as the doors slammed open behind me. The tunnel twisted and turned down through stone, which made the blue lamplight fade.

Lightning flashed up ahead somewhere and briefly illuminated the path. The sounds of the storm picked up, and a freezing wind blew down through the passage carrying with it an array of scents. The fresh scent of the storm mixed with something foul that made my fur bristle. The small tunnel turned the wind into a haunting gale that whistled out into the treatment hall. 

As I approached the source of the storm-scent, I stepped out onto the sheer cliff dropping into a void of storm clouds.