2.5 - Acclimatization (Patreon)

2.5 - Acclimatization

Taylor

There were two paths to the swamp.

The first led through what the Druids called “The Crossroads Town.”

Or… well… That was the label it had on the map. Most of the druids we’d heard talking about it had called it the “Blighted village”. This was because it had been destroyed decades ago and was, according to the animals they supposedly communicated with, crawling with Goblins these days.

It was the most direct road, but also the most dangerous.

And while it was possible that between all of us, we could brute force our way through the goblins crawling around the place - especially since I could likely gather a sizable swarm during the two day hike to reach it, giving us a huge advantage - Gale and Wyll had argued that it was an unnecessary risk, since we could easily follow the riverbank to reach the marshlands.

That proposed path would also keep us close to fresh water, potential fishing for food, and would mask our scent so none of the Goblins found their way back to the Grove with their Worgs.

Shadowheart had agreed with Gale and Wyll, arguing that saving their strength for the potential conflict with the Hag was paramount.

Astarion, when he had heard that there were hundreds of Goblins, had said, rather dramatically ‘Hundreds! Urgh. It’ll take hours to kill them all!’

Lae’zel had accused them all of being cowards; but she had clearly been on an island of one, there.

So our route had been decided. Avoid the village, follow the river. 

Nettie and Rath, the Druid that had helped save Emma, had offered us some of their supplies. They’d had to sneak them to us, though.From what I gathered, Kahga, the current leader of the Druids, was becoming less and less tolerant of “charity” with every passing day the Tieflings remained in ‘her’ Grove.

Wyll had apparently fostered enough goodwill with said Tieflings that between his asking and Shadowheart parting with some of the gold candlesticks from the tomb, they had granted us a whole cart, an ox to pull it with, and what had looked to me like a few days worth of something a lot like hard tack. A very hard, tough bread that we could eat on the road.

I had tasted some… or tried to. It felt like I cracked a tooth.

Zevlor, the Tiefling leader, had met with Durge, privately. He hadn’t said anything about it, afterward.

Some of us had been gifted less practical supplies, as well. While I was gone, or ‘out’, Madison had befriended some Tiefling woman named Alfira, who had offered her a book and a violin of all things. I hadn’t cared enough to find out why. Either Madison had bullshit her way into getting sympathy, or Alfira was a bitch too, like attracting like and all that. 

Wyll, Rath and Shadowheart had loaded our cart with the supplies, and with Emma’s unconscious body. I had tried not to stare at the red-stained bandages around her throat. Apparently it was important that she be ‘present’, so that when the curse was removed Gale and the others could make sure the Hag wasn’t going to try and pull a trick of some kind. 

Dammon, the Tiefling weaponsmith, had been our last stop. We’d traded some of the silver goblets and gold for two full quivers of arrows for Sophia and Astarion, a good broadsword for Durge and a shield for Shadowheart. We’d left the village behind, and I didn’t know if we would be back.

—

Durge led the pack with Wyll, Sophia and Astarion were right behind them, Lae’zel behind them, Shadowheart right after her. I was behind shadowheart and behind me was Gale, the Ox, and then Madison and Emma in the cart. 

The journey was quiet. For a while at least. I preferred the quiet. I wasn’t any good at small talk. Emma, Sophia, and Madison had made sure of that.

So I used the quiet, focusing; a sense a part of my mind kept my senses on my swarm. 

The other part looked a bit more… inward.

I examined the memories, sifting through the fog of it all. 

They had seemed so clear when I was unconscious. But now they were like a dream just at the edge of recollection. 

But it was real, I knew it. I had used it.

I tried to think back tothe feelings I’d had last night when talking to Durge, the mounting frustration, the conflicted emotions regarding Emma, the disquiet, the anxiety.

But the memories slipped between my fingers, and the… energy, whatever it was that I’d harnessed to wreathe my fist in blue fire wasn’t coming back, no matter how much I tried to catch it again. 

And then, the group started doing it. Small talk.

“So, Gith.” Shadowheart couldn’t have sounded more hostile if she tried. “Aren’t you worried your kind will condemn you for consorting with us?”

When Lae’zel turned around her disdain was just as ‘well hidden’. “My name is Lae’zel C’chokii,” her sneer was replaced by a nasty little smirk, ”and my kin will understand my need for servants.”

Meanwhile, Durge seemed to be doing his level best to ignore both of them. “So. Wyll with a Y. Why?”

I couldn’t see Wyll’s face but I certainly heard him smiling. “Y. That’s right”

“Yes, but… why?”

“Why Y?”

And now Durge seemed in on the joke. “Yes. I would like to know why there is a Y, instead of an I where there shouldn’t be a Y, so Wyll, with a Y, will you tell me why?”

Wyll chortled. “Heh. You’re a good sport. A great uncle’s name my father said… but I just figured he couldn’t spell.”

Since Durge was currently occupied it seemed that Gale had taken up the task of preventing the building catfight behind us. 

“Your battle stance is quite striking, Lae’zel.” He called somewhat loudly, so his voice carried past me and Shadowheart. 

The Gith snapped at him. “Do not patronize me Wizard. You’ve barely even seen combat at my side.”

“Oh, I’m no great swordsman, but I’ve read a manuscript or two and seen a good deal of accomplished warriors in my time. Your stance when you moved to attack that psionic was unique, but I saw no flaw in it.”

The words seemed to mollify her. “Hrmash’kal,” she grudgingly grumbled. “Not many know it outside of K’llir, if you were hoping to learn.”

“No no, thank you. I prefer Abduration to acrobatics.”

I tried to ignore them, to try and find my concentration again- but then, someone actually had to say something interesting. 

“What is that you’re reading Miss Clements?” I heard Gale ask just behind me. Madison was riding in the cart beside Emma, nominally to keep an eye on her. I was pretty sure she just didn’t want to walk.

“Alfira gave me this,” I heard her explain. “I… think it’s supposed to teach you how to be a Bard but… I don’t know. Feels like it's describing almost everything but music.”

“That’s right!” Gale gushed. “Your world doesn’t have magic. Bards use music to tap into the weave of magic, using the harmony in their notes to spin the magic into existence. Not as powerfully as a proper wizard, mind you, but certainly well enough in a pinch.”

“Wait…” Madison sounded flabbergasted. “So she just gave me a real magic book!?”

“Well it’s no proper Grimoire I’m sure but, here, let's see if I can help you understand some of these concepts!”

I stopped myself from turning around. Stopped myself from showing I was interested. No doubt if I showed interest Sophia, Madison, and Emma - when she woke back up again - would sabotage it somehow. So I kept my gaze firmly forward, even as I listened to Gale explaining how to make contact with ‘The Weave’.

I listened to his explanation and tried to subtly mimic what he was saying, trying to… pair it up with the half dreamed memories lurking around in my head.

I felt… something, just there, a static along my fingertips.

Right the-

“Taylor.”

My eyes snapped open and I genuinely damn near screamed at Durge. “What!?” As it was, I just barely controlled my voice into something that was ‘appropriate’ for the distance between us, but if anyone would have looked no doubt they would have seen the words bitten out through tightly clenched teeth.

But Durge’s gaze was to our right, squinting into the thick underbrush. “Can you sense anything?” he asked.

And now that he pointed it out, and I was outside of my own head-

“Yeah.” I said. “Three people.” I tried to focus. “One of them’s hurt, I think.”

A pulse. 

“Tadpole.” 

My mutterings now made Durge turn to look at me. “Another?”

I nodded. “Yeah… but,” I concentrated. “It’s faint. I think the injured person is dying. Tadpole’s losing… connection.”

Durge nodded. “How far?” 

“Not very.” I shrugged. “Hundred or so feet.”

He nodded. “Clements, Hess, Astarion, Gale, stay with the cart, Hebert’s insects will signal you if we need backup. Everyone else-” He gestured for us to follow

Trudging off the beaten path, Wyll was the one in the lead, Durge right behind and us following.

We could hear them before we saw them. 

“Edwin! Ed, please.”

“You’re a True Soul. You can’t die!” 

Judging by their voices, the ones speaking were a man and a woman.

Wyll stumbled through the thick underbrush, and the man shot to his feet, grabbing hold of a sword in hands that felt like they were shaking, judging by how the fly on his arm trembled and jerked. 

We followed right behind Wyll and when I finally saw the wounded guy, I almost lost my lunch.

There were two humans and a Dwarf, and the Dwarf’s face had been damn near clawed off. Five horrendous gashes had been ripped across his face and chest. The blood that oozed out of the wounds was almost black with how deep the cuts were. It looked like anyone could have peeled off chunks of his face with their fingers if they dug a little between the folds. 

“Who are you!?” The man was indeed shaking. The blade in his hand clinking with how much his hands trembled. I wasn’t an expert on swords I didn’t think they were supposed to make noise when shaken.

“Please!” The woman gasped. “Can you help us!?”

“What happened?” Wyll asked. I thought he’d step forward but he seemed wary of getting near the guy still holding a sword, no matter how shaky it was. 

“An Owlbear!” The man said. 

What, in the name of all that is fucking holy was an Owl Bear?

Those two things don’t go together!”

“It-”

Wait.

Before the man could continue, and before I could spiral into thinking about what the hell an Owl Bear was, our Tadpoles clenched, a faint, weak voice sifting through our minds.

The Dwarf’s eyes swam in his skull, emerging from their glassy emptiness and focusing, if only for a second more, on Durge.

The Dwarf reached, his trembling hand grasping at empty air. 

Durge marched forward, standing over the dying Dwarf.

“He is… a True Soul.” The Dwarf rasped out “You mu-”

Whatever strength he had, left him, eyes rolling in his skull as he went completely limp. 

The tadpole clenched, I felt a pulse… An urge.

“He is with the Absolute now,” the woman sobbed. 

“He named you a True Soul.” The man bowed, kneeling “She must’ve sent you to lead us in Ed’s place.”

What the fuck were these people talking about?

“Lead you?” Durge asked, raising an eyebrow. “Were you going somewhere specific?”

“We were sent to look for fugitives.” The woman explained, wiping at her eyes and nose. “There was a crash, a ship. By the Absolute’s will, whoever escaped that crash must be found.”

The others shifted, a brief moment of surprise bringing about indecision. 

“Well.” Durge drawled slowly, arms crossed. “It seems you’ve found us. We escaped that crash.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Y-you!? But-” He looked around, and the woman seemed equally dumbstruck. “Brenna, kill them!”

It happened so fast, I barely had time to blink.

The woman went to draw her crossbow. Lae’zel had already closed the distance, her sword carving clean through the woman’s neck to send her head rolling.

Wyll’s hand darted forward, and a blast of something punctured the guy’s hand clean, making him drop the sword.

He started to scream, but a bolt of lightning from Durge’s fingers went through his throat.

And like that, it was over. 

Two meaty thuds from two corpses made my stomach churn.

And I still felt the tadpole pulsing.

I winced, my mind seizing, and that tadpole, the one in the Dwarf’s skull began chewing. Tunneling its way out of the brain, boring a hole straight through grey matter and bone to finally chew its way through the eyeball.

The little thing screeched, and I could… feel it. Its sudden desire to run away. To get away from me.

I reached, and like any insect in my range it fell under my control immediately, but now I felt something, something pushing back. And it was like a warning, a tickle in the back of my mind as pressure built in the front of my skull.

Don’t stay here long.

Lae’zel said something, cursing, Wyll and Shadowheart gasped and I wasn’t quite sure if I managed to gasp out the words, “Can’t hold it for long!”

Durge was the one that took hold of it, slipping the tadpole into his water canteen to contain it, and I let it go as soon as he screwed the top on.

I felt sweat beading at my forehead, the pressure in my skull ebbing away with every pulse of my heartbeat.

“So.” Durge began. “You can control them then.”

“What!?” Lae’zel hissed, fangs on display. “And you have not thought to inform us? Have not thought to be rid of them!?”

“I-” I winced, my head pounding. “I… It’s not like my bugs.” I said, as if suddenly realizing it.

Why… Why hadn’t I thought of just, getting rid of them? 

I examined the thought now, and my mind came up frighteningly blank. 

Then, I reached for the tadpole in my own head, looked at it truly looked at it, as if it was under a microscope-

And winced, the pain cutting through my skull like an ice pick as I hissed, clutching at my head and falling flat on my ass.

“What’s wrong!?” Wyll stepped forward, kneeling on one side, Shadowheart on the other as her hands glowed with healing magic again. 

“I… can’t actually control them?” It was a question.

No. No. The only one I’d ‘controlled’ was Sophia’s, never… never anyone else's, not even my own. Why? Why hadn’t I even tried until now?

“We just saw you hold that one still!?” Lae’zel snarled. “So help me if you are Ghaik already I will cleave your meat from the bone!”

“Back off, Gith.” Shadowheart looked like she was spoiling for a fight.

The sound Lae’zel made was somewhere between a roar and a hiss, fangs on full display as she stalked forward, seemingly sick of Shadowheart’s taunts. 

Durge stepped between the both of them.

“We will be calm.” The Dragonborn’s voice was low. “And we will give Taylor a moment to gather herself and explain-”

“Give her time to concoct a lie you mean!” Lae’zel sneered. 

Durge stared at her, and with a pulse, the Dragonborn’s mind slammed into mine, our tadpoles clenching. Like he was opening up a group call or something he quickly connected to Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Wyll.

My mind was pried open.

“She cannot lie, anymore than we can.” The Dragonborn said before he looked at me. “Now explain as best you can.” 

His voice was calm, but I could see into his mind too.

It was definitely a demand. 

“I… can’t control them.” I said, and it was with an almost foreign certainty. “Not… not while they’re attached I think.”

“The magic that’s coating them?” Durge asked.

All I could do was shrug. “I know fuck all about magic.”

“What about Sophia?” He pressed. “You have caused her pain with the tadpole, canceled her… Parahuman ability.”

I opened my mouth and felt my headache return. “I think- maybe that was because of her power.” I said. “Maybe that’s screwing with the magic.”

“Hmmm.” Durge scratched at his chin. “Could you remove it from her?”

I thought, remembering the feeling of the Tadpole that had just left the very dead Dwarf. “No. Not unless you want me to have the tadpole chew through half of her brain to get out of her eye.”

I guess I didn’t have to put a spider in the bitch’s boot to keep her in line.

Wyll suddenly looked horrified. “Why on earth would you use the Tadpole to threaten her life like that?”

Shit. My mind was on a freaking conference call. 

I glared at Wyll, and didn’t say what I really wanted to which was that the bitch fucking deserved worse- but it was near impossible to keep my surface thoughts hidden and he looked even more horrified. 

Lae’zel still didn’t look pleased, and luckily she brought attention back to herself.  “Tsk’va! Damn it all!”

“She is not lying.” Durge said. “So stay your blade.” He held up the flask of water with the tadpole squirming within. “Look on the bright side… We now have a test subject for Gale and I to examine.”

He looked at me, leaning down to offer me a hand to stand up. “Come. We still have a long road ahead of us.”

He shut the connection off, the tadpoles once more becoming dormant. 

I took the offered hand and stood up.

—

The sun began to dip below the horizon, and we set up camp alongside the river. It was a wide clearing, plenty of space for everyone’s individual tents to have some semblance of privacy.

And we were joined by a walking corpse.

Because of course we were.

This was my life now.

His name was Withers, and the first thing he’d done upon seeing me was stare as hard as a walking corpse could. Then the moment passed, and he wandered off to the riverside and just… stood there. I would have called it menacing but I was too tired to really notice menacing right now. 

Emma was placed by the fire to help keep her warm. She was still pale, and still being held asleep just to make sure she didn’t hurt herself.

Durge and Gale examined the captive tadpole, Durge carving it open with the precision of a surgeon with his claws as Gale investigated it with whatever magical means he had on hand.

They didn’t get very far, at least judging by the frustrated frowns they both had. 

After that everyone mostly kept to themselves. It genuinely felt like it was the first night where we weren’t running on twenty energy drinks. The only exception was Gale helping Madison with the contents of that book. 

But as interested as I was in listening in on them discussing magic I… really couldn’t concentrate.

Because we all finally had the time to bathe, and every single one of us was going to. I was fairly sure that if anything tried to stop us it would be murdered by raw fury alone.

I had the added benefit of knowing when everyone was “done” and the river was “clear”.

Everyone had their own soaps, blends and personal mixtures.

Astarion had the best one. He used it for his hair. Or… He would have.

I stole a good chunk of it. Most of it… All of it. 

The man spent a good hour looking before he grumbled and made a new batch. 

I had more hair than him anyway.

Still, soap or not- it didn’t stop the water from being absolutely fucking freezing.

But I reveled in it. The water could have been ice and I still would have loved it 

I finally felt human again. 

I let myself sink into the water, and when the water got warm I realized I should probably get out before I got hypothermic. 

I didn’t have a towel. Actually, no one did. But when I pulled myself free of the river I had something of a solution.

I quietly slipped a small army of moths free from the trees. The tiny hairs on their bodies as they crawled all over me served as something of a fuzzy wipe.

My hair was still wet of course. I’d have to deal with split ends. But as far as I was concerned this was still the best damn bath I’d had in my life.

There was, finally, a fresh change of clothes waiting for me.

Nothing fancy. A cotton tunic and pants. Both were too big, but they were clean. I was going to go barefoot for the evening. I’d still be using my sneakers tomorrow and for as long as I could get away with because the footwear here was just awful. 

As I was getting changed, I felt someone approaching, someone that was most definitely not welcome. 

“Hey, Hebert.”

Sophia’s voice immediately made my hackles rise and whatever good mood I had almost withered and died on the vine outright.

I turned glaring at the girl. She glared right back.

I felt like pulling on the Tadpole, but refrained. 

“Look,” the vigilante said. “Your head gonna be in the game? Or are you gonna dick around because It’s Emma we’re trying to save?”

I stared, a naked sort of incredulity crossing my face. Something black and burning uncoiling in my gut.

“That’s rich,” I snapped back, “coming from the bitch that was gonna let her get raped for a power trip.”

Sophia’s glare was like balefire in the gloom and she stalked forward,n that second, that brief instant, I could picture it in my mind’s eye, a flash of nothing there one second and gone the next - a million different ways to take her down with my bare hands.

“The fuck you say to me-” She reached out, grabbing me by the front of my cotton tunic and pulling me close. 

I froze right then. Not in fear. Not in surprise or anything like that.

No. I felt every single muscle in my body freeze with choices.

Choices on how I should go about breaking any single one, or maybe every single one of her fucking fingers.

I could see it. The half-faded dream coming back like a vivid movie.

It would be so easy.

“How many people did you watch get brutalized?” My mouth was moving on autopilot. I barely heard the words. My own voice was background noise as, more and more, I remembered how I could break her.

“Fuck you!” If I had half the mind to notice, I might have heard how Sophia’s voice cracked, her expression twitching with something that might have been a wince of pain.

But I didn’t notice, I didn’t notice because my fingers clenched and unclenched, and my body was ready to move, to snap her bones and break her limbs. I didn’t need the tadpole. I didn’t need my bugs.

I could do it myself.

But then, a hand caught her wrist, Wyll stepping between us.

“Ladies,” he said, his one good eye shifting between the two of us. “I think we should all head to bed. We have an early rise tomorrow.”

Sophia and I didn’t stop glaring at each other. She ripped her hand free of Wyll’s grasp before she turned and marched away.I was left with the tingling, twitchy feeling of adrenaline coursing through my veins, picturing every which way I could have shattered every bone in Sophia’s entire arm.

“Listen,” Wyll’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and when I looked at him I saw his features filled with sadness. “I don't know what it is that’s caused this level of enmity between you two but-”

“No, you don't, so just stay the hell out of it.” I snapped, my previous good mood thoroughly soured as I brushed past him.

It would be a fitful night after that and I made certain to put three venomous spiders on Sophia’s bedroll, because it made me feel at least marginally better. 

But still, fitful night or not, I woke up before the sun rose the next morning.

And on the riverbank of the Chionthar as light crested the horizon, I began the day… by breathing.

Just as I remembered.