The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Neveah flitted through the thick jungle, occasionally pausing to watch the way a stray sunbeam pierced down through the thick canopy and a tangerine bloom with a sickly sweet scent yawned open, petals large enough for her to curl up on their velvety expanse. The vegetation was gorgeous and strange. She also wanted to observe the furtive, scaled monkeys that made the jungle their home, but her senses felt stumped by the strange sensation in the air.

It pressed against her like wind, yet it stirred not a strand of her hair. Its presence seemed to be the animating force of the Northeast and she felt sure she sensed it, yet could not discern how exactly it affected the environment.

So she hurried forward, seeking Mae Myrna, the Patron of Truth. She hoped seeing the woman and talking to her would reveal the answers she sought.

She broke out of the heavy trees and looked up at one of those mysterious pillars of crystal just in time for a massive flow of mist to descend upon the stretch of land around her, blunting the edges will massive pillows of water vapor and burying her sense of direction. Neveah stood for a seconds, allowing the cool air to prickle her skin. The sense of unreality grew stronger every second she had entered into the Northeast area, although there was something rather… reassuring about it.

Like although a world of mist and shadows wasn’t her natural environment, the invisible presence made it seem reassuring and accessible. With the tendrils of mist swirling about her, Neveah tried to figure out why that would be. And whether it should be a cause for concern.

After about ten minutes, all the mist had filtered past, entering into the thick jungle she had just left. With a few light steps, Neveah crossed through the wilds, skimming over the treetops now in order to save time. She didn’t possess the same relentlessly accurate senses that Randidly did with his reforged body, but she felt very clearly which general direction she should go.

It took her a half hour to hear the scream of panic. From the high tenor, the noise had come from a child. Neveah adjusted her vector 30 degrees to the left and accelerated. A small boy wove his way through some of the massive tree trunks at the edge of another stretch of jungle while Nether Warriors with vicious, twisting limps prowled behind.

They extended their long claws, seeking his soft flesh.

Neveah didn’t even bother with her image, she crunched the lead Nether Warrior physically with a punch to the back of its neck, just as it was about to pounce toward the boy. The rest screeched and chittered, but recognized she was beyond them and fled. She coolly regarded their departing backs for a second, but then looked down at the one she had struck. It looked back up, curiously silent. Its eyes were wide and almost completely black, almost an inert doll with its broken spin. Yet Neveah had the strangest feeling-

The weird energy of this place gradually shifted, pressing against her like the wind suddenly reversing its direction. Neveah scanned the surrounding area, trying to understand what had happened. When she looked back at the Nether Warrior, it had died.

She turned to examine the boy, a horned satyr child that pressed himself up against one of the trees and watched her with nervous eyes. As she tried to consider how to safely approach him, a voice boomed out of the nearby treeline. “Quantan!”

Whereas the satyr child looked slender and frail in the wild environment, the figure who now bounded across the nearby field resembled a body-building stump. His thick muscles shook and trembled slightly with the impact his body made on the ground. The thick hair across his upper arms and chest seemed to be purposefully styling itself to compete with the thick underbrush of the jungle. When he arrived, his arms gleamed with flesh. His shoulders were heaving, but he still reared up to his full height, about half a foot shorter than Neveah, and pointed menacingly at her. “Foul Nether Temptress! Do not set your sights upon my only son! I will defeat-”

“Dad, she saved me already,” The child dashed a short distance and shoved the adult satyr, only jarring himself backward due to the father’s weight. He crossed his arms and pouted. “Jeez, don’t be such a spazz.”

“What?” The man blinked.

Neveah’s lips twitched and she bowed, acting as bewitching as possible. Her eyes twinkled as she considered the goadable goatman. “I simply felt I must be here, yes? So I was able to aid your child when he needed it. My name is Neveah. And you are…?”

“Married!” The satyr huffed out a breath, but his cheeks flushed.

This time, Quantan kicked his father in the shin. “She meant your name. And seriously, mom died four years ago. Just get over it.” Quantan turned to Neveah. “Honestly, just ignore him. His name is Smart. Because Papa had a mean sense of humor, before a Nether Raid got him. Who are you, Neveah? You shouldn’t be out while the Nether monsters are swarming, even if you are super strong. If too many gather, one of the Great Shadows will form.”

Neveah’s gaze flicked from bewildered father to serious son. That feeling of not-wind against her grew even stronger. Yet the second half of his words made her frown. “...the Nether are still swarming? The forces here didn’t retreat after the victory against the Nether Leader?”

“There was a victory?” The child tilted his head to the side. Smart folded his arms, apparently being similarly unfamiliar with the news.

Neveah shook her head. “Well, never mind. Do you know a woman called Mae Myrna? Or the Patron of Truth. I’m looking-”

“You know the Sword of Hope?!” Now little Quantan’s eyes blazed with enthusiasm. “Ohmigod, that’s so sick! I’ve heard so many stories, but to meet one of her precious companions is a dream!”

Neveah felt her lips twitch, bemused by the child’s effusive positivity. At most other times, she would have loved to linger here and get to know the father/son combination. However, she felt both the swirling significance in the air becoming heavier and the constant frustrations radiating out of Randidly; she really wanted to speak with him in person, to help address the development of these emotional issues before they became more negative cores left to fester.

But before she could return, the puzzle of Mae Myrna needed at least a passable solution.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I would love an intrepid guide to lead me toward the Sword of Truth,” Neveah spoke the words lightly and felt surprised when the strange, invisible current of ‘air’ she felt in the area began to wrap around her.

“Of course! It can be a quest.” The young satyr’s eyes practically sparkled. Quantan’s gaze alternated between Neveah and Smart, flicking from confidence to pleading. “I’ve only heard rumors about the Sanctuary, but dad’s been there for some basic trading, right? So you know the way?”

Weirdly, Smart hesitated. “I do know the path, but I don’t know if it will be that easy, especially right now. More Nether patrols comb through the area every day…”

“But da, we can be a part of something. A part of a legend,” Quantan reached out and grabbed one of his dad’s hairy arms. With the other hand, he gestured to Neveah. “There is no way someone like her would seek the Sanctuary without a compelling reason! Please?”

In the end, Smart relented. His eyes flicked up to Neveah and then to the sky above them. “...as long as we go quickly, we should be able to make it there by midnight. But if we need to go, we need to hurry.”

With a whoop he suppressed when his father glared at him, Quantan danced from hoof to hoof, positively jingling with joy. The pressure of the invisible, not-really-wind pressure increased. After casting one last worried glance at the environment, Smart led the trio through to the opposite tree line. For good measure, Neveah examined the surroundings with her own senses. It seemed the world had blessed them; so far as she could tell, there weren’t any Nether Warriors for quite a stretch around them.

Yet why are the Nether forces continuing to raid in the area? Were they just under a separate chain of command? Enmya’s loss doesn’t seem to have affected them at all… Neveah chewed on her lip, wondering about the series of curiosities she felt.

Surprisingly, both the satyrs moved relatively quickly. Despite the fact that they had to move through the dense, shadowy jungles, and the group paused when the tides of mist briefly smothered their path, they made great time. Once she understood the signs, Neveah could even see the small marks that indicated the trail through the undergrowth.

At one point, she lingered and allowed Quantan to go ahead. Her eyes caught Smart’s even as he flushed. But she wanted to dig in for a little more background information about the Patron of Truth, if she could find it. “You seemed hesitant to help guide me to the sanctuary. Why?”

Smart looked at the ground and shook his head. “Just… some weird coincidences have been happening lately. And the weirdest have been around there. Don’t worry about me, I’m just superstitious.”

With that, the burly satyr brushed past her and hurried up to the front of the group. For the next hour they traveled in silence. During that time the presence of the trail grew even clearer, so Quantan began happily skipping ahead. They likely would have continued like that, the path blurring around them and Neveah struggling to articulate the strange sensation of wind she felt, if Smart hadn’t pulled up. “Quantan, not that way. Down here.”

The younger satyr blinked. “There isn’t a path there.”

Neveah’s gaze sharpened. They stood at one end of a relatively elevated portion of the jungle, the trees relatively sparse as they climbed. In the direction the younger satyr had gone, the trees thickened into a winding ridge. From their vantage point, the area was clearly flooded with mist as well. Yet what interested Neveah most of all was not only the clear path down into a tucked away valley in front of them, but the several paths she could see that led out into areas of the ridge.

Next to her, unease settled once again on Smart’s face. He rubbed his hands together, looking from his son to the very obvious path leading down into the valley. “...if you don’t see it…”

“We need to go this way,” Neveah cleared her throat and began to walk down the slope. She felt the wind press against her, almost willing her away. Behind her Smart squirmed but followed when Quantan trailed after her without much comment.

Neveah sped up as she descended. Up on the ridge, the mist seethed as the sky breathed on them and forced the bank downward to blanket the area. If anything, that just made her accelerate, to the point that the two satyrs sprinted and panted to keep up with her. Yet she felt somewhat vindicated when she reached the bottom of the valley and found, crouching there, a frozen army.

About a thousand Nether Warriors stood without any movement, waiting there in this tucked-away valley with several paths up into the surrounding jungle. Probably most others in the area would have turned and run at the force sign of the troops, but Neveah had nothing to fear from Nether Warriors. Besides, their Nether felt thin and tepid to her borrowed senses; she pressed closer.

Until she saw those same eyes she had witnessed earlier in the still figures, wide and desperate. Around her, the invisible wind howled. They looked like insect specimens, pinned in place with an invisible rod.

“We need to be quiet,” Quantan pipped up. Yet his voice gave Neveah goosebumps; he spoke as a mouthpiece for the incorporeal wind. It hummed through his young windpipes. “The Nether patrol is probably sleeping.”

The boy spoke and it was so; all at once, every Nether Warrior closed their eyes.

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