Five: The Creature of Vatou 

Layre makes quick work under the moon. By the time dawn breaks, he has made it to the Crying River. The Crying River runs sinuously around Iyelion. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts under a shady red oak anchored to the river bank. He listens to the water rush along the river, crashing into nearby stones that glisten in the pale sunlight. This was the first day with no rain and no overcast in a while.  

Layre graciously took it as a sign. He was on the right path. It was the right time. 

The Shaded World was a terrifying landscape, full of monsters and of the wicked and cursed. It was the Shaded World because it sat at the very bottom of the Great God Mountain. It existed in a sunken valley, burned up by harsh lava flows and the dead, dry heat of the sun. The whole of the city sat in the shade of the gigantic mountain, and it never felt wind. Layre found it ironic; how could a city doused in shade be heated so vicously by the sun? It all relied on the hot, red rock forming the steep sides of the valley. The sun would beam down onto them through the shade, causing the rocks to heat up to great temperatures despite the dark appearance. 

Layre knew, sort of, how to get there. The journey would not be too entirely strenuous. He would just have to walk along the designated path down to the Shaded World, walk around and ask the locals of Mageus, find him, free him, kill the Four Almighty somehow, and live happily ever after as the hero who saved the Demi-God and freed the Solmerian lands of the tryantic divine rule. 

He knew it was not going to be so easy for him, it never was. His plans were only an idea of what he must do, not how it must be. He knew it would be harder than he imagined, but the thought of him finally getting to meet Mageus, to see his face. It filled him with the courage of a thousand men.  

Standing up, he made way for the very edge of the Solmerian Highlands. He reached it by noon and chose to stop by a food shop in a nearby town for food. Before he had left the night before, he scrounged around his home for loose coins, and now he must use them sparingly.  

He bought a pack of dried meat for two coins, which was cheap enough. The shopkeeper gave him an odd look, one to say you don’t belong here. Layre shook it off, biting into the dried meat as he left the shop. Nothing, not even the cruel judging of random townsfolk could get to him. 

With his hunger sated, he kept going.  

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

The trailhead of the downward path into the valley was reached by midnight. Layre stared at it with malice. He imagined Anima rushing down, afraid of what awaited her there. He imagined the poor babe, kicking and screaming as he held onto a stranger, unable to do anything except trust her with his life.  

The trail itself could use some renovation. It was a sandy, dusty path down the steep side of the valley. It spun in a spiral from the top-most point to the lowest, the Vatou town entrance. It was guarded on the sides only by a rickety, aged wooden fence that seemed if there were wind, it would not stand. Signs with warnings of falling, slipping, spontaneous rock fall, and rapid sandstorms shouted at Layre. They warned him of the descent. This did not deter him. 

So Layre valorously began the descent, only stopping when he felt the dry heat of the red rock burn his skin. This was the feeling which let him know he had entered the Vatou city limits. 

The city of Vatou was more developed than Layre had heard last. Vatou is not mentioned much in Iyelion, so he did not quite know what to expect from the valley town. Tall buildings with shaggy roofs and wide, open windows rest on both sides of the gravel roads. Layre could feel the heat of the stones through his shoes, but it bothered him not. He had one mission here, and it was not to judge the roads of Vatou.  

The streets were bustling and lively, even this late into the night.  

Layre almost started laughing; this is all? If he knew it was going to be so dreadfully easy, he would have come here long before now.  

The center of Vatou is beautiful, a tall bell tower stands proudly in the center, lined with black and red tiles of different sizes and colors. Delicate wooden arches, carefully decorated with intricate and timeless designs, form around the bell chamber, boxing it in and protecting it. Painted emerald vines wrap around the shaft of the tower, dotted with little white flowers. People are congregated in groups under the ringing room, chatting amongst each other and dancing. Restaurants are lit up with dim candlelight, and people are seated outside at the tables. Servers bring them steaming food on large, silver pans. It reminds Layre fondly of the bistro back in Iyelion.  

Feeling comfortable enough, Layre leans his satchel on the wall of the bell tower. He lays his back against the tiled wall, letting himself close his eyes for a moment. His spirits were high, but his mortal body had grown tired.  

A powerful ringing sound wakes him some time later, and he realizes it is the bell tower. He startles to his feet, reaching for his satchel, only to see it has been stolen while he was slumbering. What a fool he had been, sleeping in the open like that. Of course it would be stolen. Normally he would not be so careless, but the journey here had taken too great of a toll on his body. He needed the rest, no matter the cost. 

Disoriented, he stumbles out into the streets. It is eerily silent now, in fact, there is nobody out any longer. Vatou has grown lifeless and still. 

He knew he had not slept for long, so, what was going on? He wondered briefly if there was a curfew he was failing to follow.  

Staring back up at the moon, he focuses on the stars. There are plenty tonight, even brighter here where the great red oaks do not hide them away. Layre lifts his hand to the sky. His father had graciously taught him of the constellations, of The Cedar Tree and The Goat’s Horn. He could not recall them now, and he felt a dreadful feeling that maybe he should have listened more to what his father told him while he had the chance to.  

“Get out of the street, boy!” A Vatoun man calls from one of the windows in a nearby building. Layre snaps his head to the side, alarmed by the pure shrill of terror in his voice.  

Before he can register anything that is happening, he feels the breath of someone... no, something behind him. 

Spanning over ten feet tall, a giant wolf-like creature with long, hideous claws stands behind him. His breath is hot, labored, and humid, blowing directly into Layre’s face. He swipes at Layre with his left hand, missing his face by an inch. Layre falls back onto the pebbled road, taking in the creature’s grotesque face.  

He catches himself with his palms, trying desperately to crawl and get some space between him and the creature. 

Even through it all, he knows. He can tell by the creature’s panicked, frightful eyes. The creature could not control himself, and within the creature was a harmless man, a desperate man who needed his saving.  

“What has Illus done to you?” Layre asks, and the creature retreats slightly. It tilts its head as if it is trying to understand, but it cannot. This moment of clarity does not last long, and it lunges forward again, swiping its claws in a blind fury. The claws slice open Layre’s right arm. He presses his palm into his tricep, trying to stop the blood but merely smearing it everywhere.  

Layre gets to his feet now, turning and running for the building the Vatoun man shouted at him from. The creature stays close behind him, claws outstretched and ready to rip him to shreds, and jaws open at the ready to devour him. 

Luckily, the man had not forgotten of Layre. The door swings open just enough for Layre to squeeze in before the man swings it shut again. He locks it ten times, all dead bolted and unmoving. The door creaks as the creature tries to break in, but after a moment or two, the creature seems confused and scrambles back into the night, forgetting completely that it was once pursuing them.