FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 11:

Friends

“WAIT!” Mortar shouted above Cypress’ magic. “WE MAY STILL NEED TO GATHER INTEL HERE!”

The red wolf ignored him, gleefully continuing her massive spell. The very air trembled and roared beneath her focused energy and transparent excitement.

“THIS IS WHY I HOPED IT WAS RIVER INSTEAD!” Hatchet bellowed towards Mortar.

“I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WERE SUMMONED INVOLVED! BESIDES, IT’S BEEN YEARS, I FIGURED YOU TWO COULD STAND TO RECONCILE.”

Hatchet pulled the summoned closer, noting that the human yet again seemed to be struggling beneath the effects of the magic. A realization came to the wolf suddenly as he shouted back towards the mage, “WAIT! OUR HORSES! THE MARE IS IMPORTANT TO HIM!”

Hatchet could almost hear Cypress scoff at his mindfulness mid-chant. The mage showed no other signs of acknowledging their pleas.

Mortar accepted the situation and shouted back to the mercenary, “MAKE SURE YOU’RE TOUCHING ANY VALUABLES!”

Hatchet held the trembling human a little closer.

Cypress aimed her arm towards the ground, shouting the last of the incantation as all sights faded to black.

Blinding light replaced it shortly after, dulling as the shifted scenery settled around them. It was like surfacing for air from the blackest pool. Hatchet always hated the way a jump made him feel, but the wolf was more worried about the toll it had taken on the summoned. His human was shaking weakly in his arms, the pale flesh reddened with labored breaths. A heavy sweat glistened over his features.

“I think magic is hard on him.” Hatchet spoke with a huff.

Cypress answered Hatchet’s statement as a question, “It could be caused by those enchantments, but I don’t want to speculate without investigating first. It could also just be that his magical sense is sensitive.”

The red wolf gestured broadly around her house. “We can learn most of what we need to here.”

Hatchet was a little surprised. He figured her home would be neater. Still, he was able to admire her setup. She had a circular open floor, the entire ring of the walls adorned with varying stacks of texts, relics, and objects of fascination all skewed across wooden furniture. Countless scrolls were hanging hectic and crooked. Touches of plant magic caused vines and moss to grow around the windowsills. Eight candles flared to life with a small spell uttered by the mage, lighting the dome with firelight flickering behind shaded glass.

“Since you’re back to listening… did you get our horses?” Hatchet grumbled.

“Yes, I grabbed them right at the end. They are outside.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not so incapable.”

“Never incapable, just sometimes a little too focused on one thing.” Hatchet retorted.

“A lesson on brashness from a sell-sword?” Cypress countered.

“Alright you two, can we return to the summoned here?” Mortar sighed.

“That might be something we can all agree to.” Hatchet conceded.

Cypress folded also, pointing to a stool. “Alright. Have him sit over there and step away. Remove the cloak as well. I need as little interference as possible for the readings.”

Hatchet nodded, standing with his human, steadying him. He guided him over to the seat, letting the fatigued human lean on him as needed. He had the summoned plop down, the mercenary choosing to remain behind him. He removed the cloak, setting it aside before returning his hand to the human’s bared shoulder to offer a gentle squeeze of reassurance. He pulled his hand away after.

Hatchet nodded to Cypress. “Anything else you need?”

“Not at the moment. I’ll try to keep you updated as we go.” The mage stepped forward, raising a hand to begin.

The human tensed immediately, his eyes still low.

“Wait.” Hatchet cut back in, standing between them. “Give me just a moment first.”

Cypress stared in silence, surprised yet again by what she was seeing in the mercenary. “Alright,” She gently answered.

The sell-sword turned back to the human, noting he had his fists balled and resting on his lap, shivering with half-lidded eyes.

‘Like he’s waiting to get hit.’ Hatchet eased his hands forward, reaching to take the human hands into his own. The wolf felt him exhale, and he smiled in response, happy to help him relax some.

Hatchet squeezed those hands gently before releasing them, moving his clawed digit up to the chin of the summoned where he coaxed him to raise his head. Hatcher peered down patiently as he waited for the human to meet his gaze. The wolf berated himself. He hadn’t realized how far the human was receding back to his old habits. It was only right that Hatchet guide him back to the surface.

The summoned exhaled once more -heavier this time- as his dark eyes met the red ones. He stared, letting himself focus on the safety of the Master. His breathing began to steady, as did his ceaseless tremble. With fingers finally unfurling, the summoned found himself lifting his hands, letting them rest against the soft fur of his Master’s forearm. The wolf cast him down a smile, and the human felt his stomach flutter. A far different shiver ran down his back.

Hatchet cocked his head and lifted a brow, asking his human what had him so unsettled. The wolf’s hand moved to cradle the face of the summoned, careful not to let him slip back to where Hatchet had pulled him from.

The Master was demanding an answer. The human’s eyes flickered briefly to the other wolves before refocusing on Hatchet’s.

Hatchet nodded, ensuring he acknowledged the concern. He pulled his hand free, pointed a finger back towards Cypress and Mortar, and then raised both hands to sign towards his human. “Friend.”

The summoned gazed up at his dark wolf, contemplating. His Master was kind -and his Master certainly held his trust- but the human struggled to trust the other masters.

He gestured back towards the other two before he signed in response, curling his index finger and pointing towards Hatchet to begin his statement. The wolf had learned this meant a question was being asked. “Master Hatchet’s friends?”

Hatchet was still getting the basics of his human’s hand language, but he tried to be mindful of the small changes the human would add to some uses as he went. Sometimes, the context made it easier for him to clarify things like plurals, or possession. Luckily for both, this was one such instance where the correction rang through clearly.

The wolf nodded, returning with improved sign, “My friends. Your friends.”

The human glanced at the wolves, then back to his Master. He hesitated -feeling guilty for demanding such a heavy answer- but signed what he was most uncertain about, what he truly needed to know. “I am Master Hatchet’s? I am yours?” The summoned grabbed the end of his own leash to accent the statement, his breath bated.

Hatchet realized what he had been overlooking. The human thought he was being delivered to a buyer. With a sigh at the blunder, Hatchet moved to correct the oversight.

Hatchet’s clawed finger reached forward, plucking the leash from the smaller hands as the wolf looped the strap around his wrist. Moving in closer to his human, the wolf made sure he was looking into those wary eyes. He needed the human to know there was no doubt. Hatchet signed his answer with a genuine flash of fangs, “You are mine.”

His human practically melted on the spot, but Hatchet couldn’t blame him. Confessing such an answer had great effects of the wolf as well. It felt right, as wrong as it surely was… the human was his. At least, for as long as he wanted to belong to Hatchet. With a final pat on the human’s head, Hatchet released the leash, stepping back to grant the mage access yet again.

“What was it you told him?” Cypress questioned the dark wolf.

“I told him you are a friend. I have no way to warn him about whatever you’re going to do, though, so maybe take it slow.” Hatchet didn’t completely lie.

“He certainly lit up when you took that leash… does he still think he is a slave?” Cypress pried.

“It’s… a comfort to him. At least, it seems to be one. I know it seems strange—”

“Have you been taking any liberties?” Cypress cut in, skipping the indirect approach altogether.

“N-NO! I mean… I had to some when I purchased him to quell the slaver’s mistrust, but—”

Cypress turned towards Mortar, disregarding anything else Hatchet had to say. “Were you aware of this when you suggested the summoned stay with Hatchet?”

“I had a good idea. I sort of realized it midway through our report.” Mortar confessed.

“WAIT! You’re making it sound like I’ve been forcing him this whole time! It’s not like that!” Hatchet blurted in his defense.

“Well, you’re the one that conveniently left this information out! You do see how that raises alarm?” Cypress retorted.

“Calm down, both of you.” Mortar huffed, turning to the reddish wolf first. “Cypress, do you truly believe Hatchet would make this human do anything?”

“I don’t, but the summoned can’t exactly speak for himself, so it deserves some scrutiny.” She held her stance.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but….” Mortar turned to Hatchet then, finishing as he stared at his old friend with a smirk. “I’ve never seen Hatchet so gentle with anyone. If anything is happening here, I don’t think either of them are being forced into it.”

Hatchet turned away, grumbling at the callout.

Cypress eyed the larger sellsword in caution, weighing all she had witnessed of the brute that had seemed so out of the norm. Hatchet had been worrying about that human from that start. She realized her oversight, her tone shifting with her feelings on the matter. “Sorry. I don’t mean to jump to conclusions…. Hard to shake the feeling of mistrust since learning one of my colleagues is a traitor.”

Hatchet answered, his short tone betraying his words, “It’s fine. I’d be skeptical too in your position, but… can we just get on with the exam? All this mushy talk is bad for my reputation, and it would be nice to finally get some answers to all of the shit that makes no sense about this human.”

Cypress scoffed, rolling her eyes while muttering about male ego before returning to the task at hand, bearing a far more gentle approach this attempt. She stared down at the summoned who wouldn’t quite meet her eyes, a mix of pity and piqued interest apparent in her gaze.

With a sincere smile, the Divined mage of the king lifted her hand, extending an index finger before the human. With her other hand, she took hold of the human’s own, bringing it up as well. She pressed her fingertip into the pale-skinned palm and uttered a simple spell. Her touch began emitting a bright light, casting a glow into the human’s hand, illuminating his skin; a translucent pink surrounded by a yellow outline. The bones of his hand were marked by shadows, the places the light couldn’t pass through.

As the human stared at the spectacle in wonder, the mage began asking Hatchet more questions, “You say he heals? And you’re certain that’s what the white wolf called his true gift?”

“Yes, he was specifically targeted because of what he could endure.”

“When he healed your wound, you say this human was missing an arm when you awoke?” Cypress continued her affirmations as she traced her finger up the forearm, examining the skeleton for damage.

“Only his shoulder and a little of the bicep remained. I know it sounds crazy, but I know he used it to fix me somehow. He regrew it after feasting.” Hatchet was expecting the usual argumentative rebuttal.

Cypress surprised him by agreeing instead, “That makes sense. Healing is a type of magic some summoned may command, but it isn’t tied to any of the true gifts -at least- none we’ve documented. You said he suffered great abuse, but no trace of that damage remains. Healing magic does not work that way.” The mage pulled her hand free for a moment, the skin’s glow fading as she turned towards Hatchet. “Were he healed by traditional magic, scars would remain. His bones would be thicker where they were broken, and he sure wouldn’t be able to regrow an entire arm. The damage was not fixed, it was replaced.”

“You’re going to clarify a little more than that, right?” Hatchet prodded.

Cypress lit up, ever-thrilled to educate someone on her obsession. “His main gift isn’t mere healing, that’s far too great an understatement for what he wields. He is a converter of life energy itself. He can perpetually transform life from one organism or form to that of another. He does not heal, he reshapes and repurposes his own body, as well as the body of anything he consumes. That is why his powers awoke when you fed him, because that in turn feeds his gift. I imagine that is why he was starved in the first place; to keep him weak.”

“So, you believe the slaver knew what he was doing?” Mortar asked.

“Yes and no….” Cypress paused, tossing it around before she continued, “Whoever summons a human gains insight to how their power works. This is intended to aid us; as we act as guides for those we summon. It is clear the white wolf was lying when he claimed to perform the summoning, as he would have no means to. He likely did so to cover for whichever divined that’s helping him, but that same divined undoubtedly knew what this human was capable of. They probably passed some information to the white wolf so that he could manipulate the human’s weaknesses. The slaver in turn kept him from progressing as he should’ve. They have been stunting his growth.”

Cypress turned back to the human -who was still averting his eyes- as she slowly inched her hand closer to the human’s stomach. She uttered her spell, and the glow returned, offering insight to far more area with her full palm this time. She beamed alongside the light, nodding towards the stomach, “See? This confirms my theory! He’s a perpetuator of life itself! A conduit for creation! A deity of transfiguration that aspires to rise to endless heights, only to shatter any fathomable expectations we may set! HE IS—”

“ALRIGHT! YOU’RE GETTING WAY TOO EXCITED HERE! Just tell us what you—” Hatchet’s interruption was interrupted.

“Just look!” Cypress commanded.

Hatchet peered at the human, his guts feeling lighter at the sight. He found it an ironic sensation, considering his human was lacking more organs than the wolf expected. The sell-sword muttered out amid his surprise, “Well… explains why nothing comes out the end….”

Mortar chuckled at the wolf’s bluntness, Cypress directing them back to the important parts, “You see how his stomach is isolated? There has only ever been one other summoned called to our world with this particular gift, and had the slavers known about her, they would’ve picked something less formidable; something easier to beat should it ever gain the advantage. They may understand the basics to his powers, but they were clearly underestimating its potential. He wields the ability to manipulate organic material, to force it to undergo a metastasis; one with an outcome he chooses. The question now is how much of his power is involuntary and how much is voluntary at his current state of control.”

“I know you’re clarifying, but I think you’re making it more confusing somehow, Cypress….” A frazzled Mortar finally confessed, much to Hatchet’s appreciation.

“If it is living or was alive, he can convert it to a different form. He recreates and alters life. His arm disappeared because he used it as fodder to repair Hatchet’s mortal wound. That is also how those two shared that dream, their bodies were briefly connected.” Cypress tried to keep it as straightforward as possible with her excitement sated.

“Wait, so how does he communicate with the mare?” Hatchet prodded.

Cypress turned back to face Hatchet, delving into her obsessive knowledge of the humans. “Connecting to minds of simpler thought is a known sub-gift of the summoned. It’s likely just one such gift he received.”

Hatchet stared in silence before he realized she was going to make him ask. “And a sub-gift is…?”

She wasted no time, “Each summoned is granted a singular true gift when they are brought here; an elevated power that stands above most. In this case, your human gained the true gift of Organic Manipulation. However, each summoned develops up to seven smaller powers as well -sub-gifts- strengths that aren’t quite so grand, but still capable of contributing to feats and spectacles many wolves would fail to rival. From what you have told me, I think we can safely assume communicating with more simple minds is one of the gifts blooming now that he has been allowed to progress as he should’ve. Do any other examples stand out so far?”

“Nothing for certain. Anything I need to watch for?” Hatchet figured he should prepare as much as possible. His human had surprised him enough as it was.

“Well… there is one thing I’m unsure of due to his special circumstances.” Cypress faltered before continuing, “Has he used any magic yet?”

“Nothing that I’ve seen. Didn’t seem like he cared for your magic, either.”

“That’s the part that concerns me. Do you know of the translation process for the summoned?” The reddish wolf genuinely asked.

“Cypress, I doubt anyone but you would know about it….” Hatchet huffed, adding in a more patient tone after, “Guess I’m lucky for that. You want to remedy my ignorance?”

The mage smirked. At least he respected her counsel. “No summoned comes to this world able to speak our language. On top of that, not all humans even speak the same tongue. Apparently, they have many among their kind. This is something the summoning spell accounts for.”

“Rather than hear each other’s speech, we hear a translated version instead.” Mortar chimed in.

“That’s actually correct…” Cypress was stunned. “How did you—”

“I read it in that book you gave me!” Mortar flashed that realm-renowned smile.

“You read it?” Cypress raised a brow.

“Some parts. I read when I have the time, which I can admit is sparse, but it comes with the title.” The mutt beamed in pride.

“Well, guess that makes me a liar and the lone wolf here. You both know about it, so please, enlighten me.” Hatchet urged them to continue.

“As Mortar said, the spell translates speech between us, but this has an added effect for the summoned when our magical tongue comes into play. Their languages are often more expressive than ours, and they have words for things that do not exist here, which reflects in a unique way through spellcasting. They can pull off feats of magic with less words than we can, which speeds up how fast they can cast. They have a vast understanding of the natural world paired with knowledge of greater designs and apparatuses than we have yet to discover. They can often break spells down into terms we have yet to gain a grasp on, for example: They can manipulate many metals that we would strain to. Apparently, they achieve this by referencing something called a table of elements from their world. They can also combine and create sentences that we cannot so easily, meaning they usually far outclass our mages from the start.”

“Wait, so you mean if could he speak, he would be as strong a mage as you?” Hatchet Marveled -mostly at the information- partly for how much Cypress could say without taking a breath.

“Even stronger in some ways.” The mage confessed. “At least according to records. However, even though he cannot cast, and even though he was stunted in other ways, his magical presence still should have been building all this time. The longer a summoned stays in this world, the more powerful their magic becomes. It really is a shame. He has four years’ worth of untouched potential sitting just out of his reach.” Cypress turned back towards the human as she concluded her ramble.

She held her hands before the summomed, forming her thumbs and forefingers into a diamond. She spoke a short chant and began moving her hand, as if she was looking through a window. “…Odd.”

“Things usually are with him.” Hatchet muttered.

“I can’t get a read on him. Even with the collar interfering, he shouldn’t be this unreadable. Its like he’s shrouding himself, something he wouldn’t even know to do. I wonder…” She moved her hands higher, aiming her window at the collar, dropping them after. “it doesn’t appear to be what’s suppressing his magical presence, but let me be sure.”

Cypress moved closer to the human, placing a finger on his neck, just above the collar. She spoke her earlier spell, and the human’s throat was alit. “Now, lets see what—”

Cypress quickly severed the touch, clutching both hands over the end of her muzzle as she took a step back, gasping behind wide eyes.

“What?” Hatchet pried, moving closer to the pair.

She did not respond. To see Cypress speechless was both a rarity and a concern. He tried again, louder, “WHAT?”

“The collar… I- I expected it to be bound, I just didn’t expect… It- it’s… just look.”

Cypress returned her touch to the human’s throat, repeating her spell as Hatchet leaned in closely to observe. The light illuminated the human’s flesh, showing Hatchet exactly what Cypress was so distraught about.

Six shadows were embedded into the human’s throat, each indicating a spike hammered through the collar, pinning it. Fashioned on the tips of those spikes were barbs, ensuring they could not be pulled out once buried. It would have killed a normal person. Hatchet felt his jaw clench, a bitter hatred for the slaver rising from his throat in a rumbling growl. He snarled out his next question, “WHY? Was it not magically bound to his flesh already? Were such added measures necessary? Was this just to bring him more agony?”

Neither Cypress nor Mortar answered. They understood his anger.

“Mortar… promise me, we will move on these scum before they do this to anyone else.” Hatchet turned to face the wolf-dog as he made a vow then and there. “Promise me, I get to bring this human that slaver’s head!”

Mortar held the eye-contact, nodding somberly at his friend’s conviction. “We won’t let such cruelty go unpunished. This, I can swear to you, Hatchet.”

Hatchet felt a wary touch taking hold of his closed fist, turning to see the summoned looking up at him with compassion. ‘As if I am the one who suffers. As if my anger is more concerning than discomfort.’

Hatchet faced his human, taking hold of those hands, reassuring him he was alright. Hatchet took a deep breath, asking another question in a calmer tone; though one still bearing blatant resentment. “Cypress… can you get this thing off of him?”

“…I think so, but I have concerns. For one, it will cause immense pain and damage. He should be able to recover, but this magic is well inlaid. There are runes lining the inside of his collar. I can tell part of the enchantment contributes the binding spell, but there are other parts I’m unable to read clearly from the outside. I worry about it being a failsafe. If this goes poorly, we could kill him. The slavers did not want this collar coming off.”

“All the more reason we need to remove it. You’re good at what you do. I trust you. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I believed for a second that you’d let him die. I just… We can’t leave him like that!” Determination lacquered the sell-sword’s steely words, but his eyes told a different tale. They were begging for help.

“You really do care for him, huh?” Cypress murmured.

Hatchet cut his gaze, still new to confessing his feelings. With a subtle nod, the mercenary confirmed it, “I do.”

Cypress exhaled sharply before she replied, “Tch. Go figure you’d end up living my dream… alright. Let’s do this. You’ll probably want to hold him, it’s going to hurt. Mortar, can you get closer too? I may need a pair of hands. There’s no way to predict how this will go.”

“Just let me know whatever you need!” The mutt beamed.

“Hey, both of you…” Hatchet began, moving behind his human. “Thanks for understanding. I’m sure that most wouldn’t.”

“Save the thanks for after we pull it off.” Cypress smiled.

“You’ve helped us both out of worse, it’s the least we can do… and Hatchet?” Mortar paused, a true warmth behind the mutt’s next words for his hero, “Really, I’m happy for you.”

The sell-sword took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the human, nuzzling into him in both apology for what was to come, and to keep him still. He just hoped the summoned would understand. A careful hand moved up to the collared throat, removing the leash in preparation.

“Please…” Hatchet whispered as the mage began, more to himself than to the summoned. “Don’t hate me for this.”

~

Sorry for the delay in releases. The holidays hit me like a train at work, and the freeze after kept us busy halfway through January. Also, still working on AKL at the same time. This should be the only chapter I let Cypress info dump to this degree. Sorry for that, but needed to clarify a few things with lore. Thanks for reading and for the patience. Always happy to hear your thoughts. Next chapter will be back to the human’s pov, and it’ll have a scene I think most of y’all will enjoy!

~ Red Bayou