Soul Caller 1 - Chapter 24 (Patreon)

Polishing off the last of the skewers, Merrick decided on his next course of action. It was cold, but he not only had a blanket, but Evan's clothes as well. Remembering that the prospector had been wearing a thick fur jacket, Merrick decided to go and see if he could salvage it. Standing up, he tested his leg gingerly. While he could walk on it, it was still painful, so he picked up his staff and hobbled out to the entrance. As usual, he carried one of Barak's spears with him, examining it as he walked. A 14-inch blade made of hard stone and a handle that was two feet long created a weapon that was half dagger, half spear, and he had seen Barak use them to great effect. They were oddly weighted, with most of the weight residing at the butt end of the spear, and a small guard sat where the blade and the handle connected, presumably to keep it from sinking too deep into its target. Barak had favored throwing them, but had often used them the way one would dual daggers. They felt surprisingly natural in Merric's hands, and holding onto one of them helped quiet his soul.

Exiting the cavern, he looked at the steep wall of the gorge and shook his head. While he could climb up, he was worried that he would aggravate his leg once again, and so he spent the five minutes it took to walk down the gorge and back up the slope to where Evan's body lay. The exposed parts of the corpse's flesh had already been torn apart by the beaks of the vultures, and much of the clothing he was wearing had been torn as well. The sturdy sheepskin coat, however, remained relatively intact, though covered in blood and gore and pierced through by the hole that had been burned straight through the dead prospector’s body. Not minding the stench that was starting to set in, Merrick undid the coat, rolling the body over as he pulled it off. He would have to wash it before he wore it, of course, and it was two sizes too small, but he would make do.

Back in the village, when winter came, the Sky Mountain tribe typically used blankets to cover themselves when they had to go outside, but those who were not hunters rarely ventured out during the winter, instead staying inside in the warmth to share stories and practice their crafts. The Soul Warriors didn't wear any sort of coat at all, relying on their meditation and the blessing of their spirit to keep them warm. Merrick still hadn't figured meditation out well enough to use it to fight the cold, though he did feel as if he was making progress. With the coat in his hand, he turned and looked out over the canyon, his eyes scanning across the gorgeous landscape, looking for threats and opportunities.

There was a river in the far distance, and though it was something of a trek, Merrick knew it was one he would have to make. So far, he had been able to use the water that the team had carried with them, but that would soon run out, and he would need a stable water source. The problem was that everything in the mountains was potentially poisonous, and the water was no different. He didn't feel that drinking a little bit of it would matter, but were he to start living on it, consuming it in quantity, he was afraid he was going to have some trouble. Too many people had been driven mad for him to casually risk it.

Shaking his head, Merrick returned to the cave, walking carefully so as not to aggravate his injured leg, gathering sticks as he walked. Once inside, he added a few more sticks to his fire and sat down, closing his eyes as he got ready to meditate. As he calmed his mind and relaxed his body, concentrating on his breathing, something faint echoed in his ears. At first, it was hard to make out, but soon a realization struck Merrick and his eyes snapped open. It was water; he could hear water. Remaining absolutely still, not taking the breath he had been about to inhale, he concentrated, and the sound grew louder in his ears. There was running water somewhere in the cavern.

The thought spurred him to action, and he grabbed his staff and stood up. There were a number of passages that led off of the main cavern he had not managed to explore before, and it was to these that he walked, trying to trace the echoing sound of water. The first passage he came to was only a few dozen feet long and ended at a dead end. The second passage seemed to stretch much further, but it was clear the water was not coming from that direction. Plus, there was an ever so slight uphill slope to its passage, and he suspected that if he was going to find water, it was going to be lower rather than higher. That left one passage, and it was down this that he walked. The sound of water grew louder and louder as he continued deeper into the earth. What had been the faintest of trickles in his ears as he meditated had started to grow in volume. A low growl of thunder added to the babbling as he got closer.

The sound continued to expand until, after he had traveled nearly two miles into the earth, he found himself facing an incredible sight. The passage widened out into another cavern, this one lit bright with manastones studding the walls. A glowing stream rushed through the middle of it, seeming to boil as it passed over a bed entirely made up of polished manastones. In astonishment, he gazed through the perfectly clear water, marveling at the piles of stones that had been stacked up along the bottom of the underground river. Over time, the current must have freed them, digging out the dirt around them and leaving just the manastones.

Reaching the edge of the river, Merrick crouched down, watching in awe as the bubbling water moved past him swiftly before vanishing into a hole on the other side of the cavern. Mesmerized, he reached his hand out to touch the glowing water, only to feel as if a spark of electricity had shot through him. With a gasp, he pulled back, staring at his still-glowing hand. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the glow, but it didn't seem particularly dangerous, so he let it be. He had brought one of the water bottles with him and inserted it into the stream, quickly filling it up.

Surprisingly, the water didn't leave a glow on the water bottle, though the areas of his hand which had touched the rushing water brightened up once more. It was a strange, tingling feeling, and even being around the underwater river seemed to give him energy. Spending a few more minutes surveying the river, Merrick reached in and pulled out a couple of the smooth manastones that had been deposited on the bottom, examining them carefully. Much like the manastones he had been shown, and much like the wrapped manastones he had found in Vale's bag, these stones glowed bright with light. He still had no way to unlock the power he knew lay inside them, and so he put them in his pouch and turned his attention back to the water.

Scooping a bit up in his hand, he smelled it. It smelled perfectly fine. It also looked perfectly fine, apart from the glow, of course, and hesitantly, he brought it to his lips, tasting it. To his surprise, it was sweeter than anything he had ever drunk before. The water flowed through into his mouth and down his throat, bringing with it an incredibly refreshing feeling that seemed to awaken the cells in his body, causing them to sing out as the Song of the World grew louder. Panting, he fell back into a sitting position as the energy from the water rushed through him. His breath came in gasps as his hand fell, splashing a bit of the remaining water on his wounded leg. Immediately, pain tore through him as the gash on his leg miraculously started to close up. Merrick had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that the water was having some sort of effect. As he watched, his skin twisted and surged, closing up as the scab flaked away. By the time the water had lost its effect, the wound was almost completely healed.

Mesmerized, he cupped his hands and took another handful, pouring it liberally on his leg. Almost immediately, the same pain he had experienced before rippled through his body, but he didn't care. His eyes were fixed on the wound which was magically healing up like it had never existed in the first place.

“By the spirits, what is this?” His voice, though quiet, echoed loudly in the space, but there was no answer.

Whatever this water was, its healing properties were tremendous, and there was an entire river of it right in front of him. Standing up, he tested his leg, worried that only the surface of the wound might have closed up and there might still be problems underneath. But no matter how he moved, the pain was gone. It was incredible. Realizing that he'd just stumbled upon something truly magical, Merrick turned and began to make his way back to camp. His only regret was that he didn't know about this water before. When Barak had gotten shot. Suddenly he stopped, his thoughts spinning.

Vale had said that they had come because of a tremendous source of power that was located here in this location. He had assumed it was the manastone mine, but what if it was actually the water they were after? Though he didn't have an answer, Merrick felt as if he was on the edge of the truth. Still, there was no one to answer his questions, and so he made the long walk back to camp, his mind filled with a million thoughts.

Though he had only had one sip of the water, he felt as if he had no need for any more. His body seemed entirely saturated with it as if that one sip had quenched his thirst completely. And maybe it had — after all, it could heal his wounds, so why couldn't it quench his thirst? He had been afraid that the water was poisonous, but instead, he discovered it was exactly the opposite, restoring life instead of taking it. After making it back to camp, he gathered up every pot, every water bottle, every container that he could find and hurried back to the stream. The two miles were covered quickly as he ran, his legs brimming with energy. Filling up every container he could, he brought them back to the camp and began to look around for a large stone that would suit his purposes.

He soon found what he was looking for — a partially hollowed-out stalagmite filled with drips of water from the ceiling above. With hurried hands, he emptied it, splashing the water onto the floor. After Merrick emptied the hollow and scraped out all the little bits of stone from the bottom, he poured in the magical river water, curious if taking it away from the river would cause its power to fade. The glow remained strong as he made three trips to fill up his impromptu basin. To prevent water from the stalactite above from dripping into his elixir and ruining it, he fashioned a simple cover from the remnants of Vale's bag.

Despite running almost 10 miles, Merrick still felt full of energy and decided to capitalize on it. He had the majority of the boar meat, but if he was going to travel through the mountains without having to stop and hunt, he needed more food, and that meant venturing out into the canyon. He had seen deer tracks on his way back to the mine after getting wounded and had noticed a couple of small herds near the river when he had looked over the canyon earlier. He would focus on hunting for a deer or two, so taking his weapons, he set out.

As soon as he stepped out of the cave, however, his face fell, and his expression turned grim. The air had turned soft and fresh, slightly warmer than it had been earlier, but the threatening clouds on the horizon had grown deeper and darker, and Merrick could see them coming his way. Realizing that his time was running out, he was about to turn back and go into the cave to gather his things when a single snowflake fell from the sky, catching his eye as it danced about on the wind. As he watched it hit the ground and melt away, he let out a low sigh. He was too late. The snow was on its way, which meant the mountain passes would be impossible to cross. When the snow came, it would lie thick in the mountains, completely blocking the passes and making the mountain paths too treacherous to travel on.

This trip was supposed to have been a quick one, simply escorting the strangers to the next tribe's hunting lands, but his foolishness had caused them to come deep into the mountains, and now he was going to pay the consequence. Barak had already lost his life due to Merric's foolish desire for adventure, and there was a good chance that if he couldn't get enough supplies before the storm fell that he would too. The thought of returning to the tribe had been strong with him, but now it was gone, banished into the recesses of his mind as he recognized that he only had one option, outlast the winter.

Decisively, he began to run, not back into the cavern, but out through the gorge and into the canyon beyond, his eyes scanning across the landscape as he searched for signs of prey. He had a limited amount of time, maybe a few hours, a dozen at most, before the storm fell upon him, and he would need to gather as much food as he possibly could during that period. Judging the direction of the wind, he kept to low ground, not wanting to be silhouetted against the sky.

After twenty minutes of hunting, he found what he was looking for. Three doe were doing their last-minute foraging before the first storm of winter. They were eating as if their lives depended on it, and he couldn't blame them. Crouching, he moved through the brush, making as little sound as possible, his eyes remained fixed on the doe in the middle. It was the largest of the three and was turned, presenting its sleek side to him which would make for an easier kill. Mentally rehearsing his throw in his mind, Merrick saw himself standing up to hurl the spear, and the startled deer bounding away, causing his spear to miss. A frown appeared on his face as he tried to understand what he was looking at. His upgraded skill seemed to be showing him the effect of his attack and the subsequent movement of the deer that would result in his failure.