Lost and Found

The ammal republic: chapter 1

The man had been mindlessly wandering the same place for countless hours now. He didn't know where he was, or where he was heading to. He was cold, tired, sleepy, and on the edge of passing out. He was hoping to get out of this green rainforest, but everything looked the same to him: same trees, same rocks, same moss and lichens. One place was not distinguishable from the other. Nothing seemed to help in navigating the dense rainforest. His only clue was his cardinal directions, but even that didn't assist the man wandering about.

Not even food was an abundant source. He was starving, and there didn't seem to be anything edible. Strange, considering fruit is common within rainforests. Maybe he had the worst luck. Maybe he wasn't looking in the right place. Water wasn't an option either: all the pools and ponds he had encountered contained dark, murky clouds of either dirt or some other unrecognizable substance. The man didn't plan on poisoning himself, so he looked over every pool he had encountered.

Eventually the man became fatigued. He found a nice patch of dry soil to sit on and rested his back up against the bark of a tree. He let out a sigh of dismay. Ever since he awoke, he's gotten no sense of direction. He kept on going north, hopefully able to clear the forest. The man then looked down to inspect himself, checking for any abnormalities.

His skin was scaled, like a reptile. Desert colored scales lined his entire body, while maroon scales formed diamonds that ran along his forehead and tail. While the base of his body was tan-colored, he had some slightly darker colored copper stripes running across his bare body, extending from his spine but never meeting up on his ventral side. Out of the digits of his feet and hands, tiny obsidian-colored claws extended from the nubs of his fingers and toes, sharp enough to scrape wood or slice up leather, but definitely sharp enough to cut flesh.

The man felt his face. His cold fingers touched his head like an icicle on a sleeping body. Maroon diamonds lined his forehead, then he touched what seemed to be spikes. Three maroon spikes on each side lined the back of his lower jaw. The man also felt around his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion out of them. A pair of golden eyes with dark pupils looked around his current environment, scanning for anything that looked like food. His stomach roared during his search.

As for his clothing, there wasn't much to speak about, for he had hardly any. The only articles he had were a pair of sack cloth pants, a soggy white t-shirt that was slowly starting to get yellow, and what hopefully felt like dry underwear.

I'm going to die, thought Claybrook Sokki. His name was one of the few things he remembered before stumbling in this strange new world.

---

After he had rested for a bit, Claybrook decided it was time to continue his escape. It was either find food or die here and let the fungi return him to the earth. He would wander for about half an hour when he heard the sounds.

The sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping entered Claybrook's mind. He soon realized what was going on. Something was nearby, possibly stalking him like a predator. He stood still for a moment and looked around his immediate surroundings. He found nothing out of the ordinary, which paranoid the lizard even more. He could run for it, but who knows how fast the predator was? And if he tried to stand his ground, he could possibly get killed. He could try hiding, but his desert coloration would not allow him to blend in the lush green surroundings.

He didn't have to decide, for his stalker soon revealed himself. It approached Claybrook with a curious look in its crystal blue eyes. It was scaled, much like Claybrook was, but this one had hunter green coloration with a lighter underbelly. It was a slightly slender figure, something not built to explore the world and engage in its challenges. Its head was a blunt arrow shape with two orange round scales behind where each of its cheeks should be. Hanging off its chin was some sort of dewlap. Spines ran from the top of its head to its long green tail, which was striped with a darker green. It was some sort of digitigrade animal as well, always having its knees bent. Many tribal-looking tattoos covered its bare chest and arms. As for clothing, it had a leather belt slung diagonally over its chest, another pair of belts hanging around its waist. The creature wore sack cloth pants similar to Claybrook's. Oddly enough, the creature was also wearing some sort of long white lab coat, as if he was some sort of doctor. In his right hand he wielded some sort of finely-crafted wooden bow, as well as a quiver of arrows slung across his rear. In his right he had a pail containing blue mushrooms.

"What the--?" the Igna gasped as it dropped the bucket, spilling its contents. The Igna slowly began to approach Claybrook. "How did you survive? You're supposed to be dead!" said a masculine voice, a hint of horror in his words.

Claybrook took that as a threat. Every time the Igna stepped forwards, Claybrook stepped back. The Igna realized Claybrook's actions and stopped in his tracks. "Oh no," he said holding out his hands. "It's okay."

Claybrook stopped as well. He was breathing heavily, uncertain what to do in this current confrontation. Claybrook swallowed down a small scream he was about to let out. "What's going on?" he let out, something his fear forced him to exhale.

The Igna came closer to him. Claybrook stood still long enough for the Igna to be a meter away. "Excuse my poor word choice," the Igna pleaded. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Are you sure?" Claybrook asked uncertainly.

He smiled, something Claybrook thought was unexpected. "Of course. I will not hurt you." The Igna paused to take a closer look at Claybrook's face. It was as if he were trying to recognize him. "Hmm. I'd never thought I'd see you again. This is so unreal. I must be the luckiest person alive to see such a legend survive!"

"Legend?" Claybrook asked with a curious look. "What makes me so special?"

"Don't you remember?" the Igna asked. "You and your friends, and your people! They're--"

But before he could finish his sentence, a sound of crunching leaves were heard by the two reptiles. Alerted to the sound, the Igna turned back to Claybrook. "They're coming!" he whispered loudly.

"Who?" asked Claybrook. He felt slightly frightened, raring to run off. "Who are they?"

"Hide!" the Igna whispered loudly in Claybrook's face as he pushed him away.

Claybrook stumbled backward from the shove. "No, wait!" he shouted back.

"Shh!" the Igna spat at him. "There's no time to explain. You're in danger. Hide!" The Igna turned to the source of the sound, back the way Claybrook had come from. "I'll fight them off, but you need to survive. Get out of here! Go!"

The sounds were approaching quickly. Claybrook took the Igna's advice and ran for cover, concealing himself within the brush and darkness the forest provided. The Igna himself slid behind a tree, putting away his bow and pulling out a dagger he had by his waist. "I won't make the same mistake again," he whispered to himself.

Soon the source revealed itself. Three people came out to the clearing. A wolf-type creature, a Lupus, dressed in a heavy army outfit appeared. His base fur color was dark gray, but his underside and other areas were a dirty white color. He held a map in both of his hands. His outfit was white and blue, and around him he wore belts and slings that held a sword and a type of weapon unfamiliar to Claybrook. Behind him were two Vulpis, a male and a female holding hands for safety. The male Vulpis had a similar raiment that the Lupus had, but instead of metal was leather. His blue outfit matched the female Vulpis's blue adventurer's outfit, similar to the male Vulpis but again slightly lighter. She had no visible weapons on her; just some sort of knapsack.

They began to speak. "And how long do you suppose now, Atheos?" asked the male Vulpis.

Claybrook grew a curious look. Though the language these three were speaking was different than what the Igna spoke, he could still understand them nonetheless.

The Lupus named Atheos responded, "Hell if I know, Buris. Hours, days, weeks." He paused as he looked up to the canopy of the forest. Then he sighed. "Months."

"Uugh!" whined the male Vulpis named Buris. "I knew I should've worn more comfortable shoes." He turned to the woman whose hand he was holding. "And I knew I shouldn't have brought you, Vesilia. Remind me why I brought you."

"I wanted to come," responded the Vulpis female named Vesilia. "I want to find them too. You're not their only parent, you know."

What exotic names, Claybrook thought to himself. Then he noticed the travelers were slowly approaching the tree that the Igna had hidden himself behind. Claybrook wanted to say something, possibly introduce himself, but it was too late. As soon as Buris touched the tree, the Igna struck.

He jumped out screaming, frightening the travelers. The Igna sought out the target closest to him. It wasn't even a fight: the element of surprise caught Buris off guard as the Igna roared and skewered Buris right through his belly. It all happened too fast for Claybrook to comprehend; next thing he knew, the Igna was pulling out his dagger from Buris's body. Buris stood hunched over for a while, shocked at what happened. The will to live inside of him faded away as his body fell forward limp, leaving a tiny puddle of red blood. Vesilia let out something between a shriek and a scream, realizing that her lover had fallen immediately right in front of her eyes. Claybrook was disgusted by the scene. He had never seen someone fall so quickly. Usually they let out one final breath, but Buris simply collapsed.

Atheos regained his senses and immediately charged for the Igna. He pulled out his small sword and began to slice away at the Igna. The tribal man couldn't use the knife to defend himself against a sword, so he simply tried to avoid hits, all the while trying to get behind Atheos and attempt to stab his back. Things looked pretty even for both of them: Atheos would slice away, and the Igna would dodge and jab. Meanwhile Vesilia was tending to Buris, possibly hoping that he was still conscious.

After Atheos gained some distance between himself and his opponent, he pulled another tool from his belt. It was some kind of weapon in the shape of a J, one end pointing towards the Igna. Atheos had one finger within the loop the J-shaped weapon made. Then he curled his finger.

A loud bang sound blasted through the rainforest, almost deafening Claybrook's sensitive ears. He had to cover up his ear canals to cope with the sound the weapon made. The results could not be blocked, however. Smoke came out of the opening of the weapon, the Igna letting out a cry of agony as he put his right hand to his left shoulder, dropping his dagger. Blood started dripping out of the Igna's shoulder and dyeing his lab coat, evidence of a serious wound. Atheos wouldn't stop there, however: he aimed at the Igna's left thigh and pulled the trigger once more. Another loud bang caused Claybrook to cover his ears and watch the scene. The Igna had been injured in the leg, blood squirting out of his thigh. The Igna was reduced to his knees as he had to use his free hand to block the other hole.

One meter away from each other, the Igna was desperately gasping for air, while Atheos had a fire in his eye. "You son of a bitch," he said. Atheos proceeded to kick the Igna in the groin, prompting another loud cry of agony from the Igna. He was now reduced completely to the ground. "You killed him. You dirty scaled freak. You ambushed us, coward. Too bad I have superior firepower. Now I will be the one to avenge him!"

The Igna didn't respond. Atheos pointed the weapon right to the Igna's forehead. All the fallen warrior could do was look up at his slayer, gaining a numb feeling as he realized he was about to die.

Claybrook didn't want to let this happen. The Igna was only trying to defend Claybrook by chasing away the trio. He fought back to drive away the intruders, but now he will have to pay with his life to keep the secret of Claybrook hidden.

I'm not going to allow this to happen, thought Claybrook. No one else has to shed blood today.

"Go to HELL!" Atheos shouted at the man, a dribble of saliva escaping his mouth mid-scream.

"NNNOOOOO!!" yelled Claybrook as he jumped out of the brush and headed straight for Atheos, surprising everyone. Claybrook was holding up a fist as he charged for Atheos. Once he got close enough, he hooked left and slammed the side of his head. The impact was clean as Atheos was completely knocked to the side, dropping his weapon.

The Igna on the other hand was more surprised than horrified. "Wh..." he began. "What the-?"

"Go," Claybrook told him. "Get out!"

"Wait, wha-argh!" he groaned in pain. Claybrook had forgotten about his wounds. He couldn't walk away right now. One of his legs were crippled, and he'd surely bleed out if left here. Instead Claybrook turned to him.

"Xouc," he said as Claybrook's left hand began to glow green. He pointed his palm to the Igna, and the green aura concentrated and formed into a small ball of floating light, darting towards the Igna. The ball of light dissolved within the Igna's body. He stopped grimacing in pain and was able to slowly get up to his feet. He was still hunched over, however, cringing.

"Get out," said Claybrook

"No, wait--"

"I said leave!" shouted Claybrook. I had saved his life once already. I don't want him involved anymore.

The Igna stood staring at Claybrook. Regardless, he followed directions and started limping away in the opposite direction from which Claybrook had come from. He left behind his dagger and bucket, desperate to get to a safer place.

Atheos started groaning as he slowly rose to his knees. Claybrook acted quick as he grabbed the weapon the Lupus had used against the Igna and turned it on its own user. Claybrook's finger was on top of the trigger as the point found its target: the head of the Lupus.

Both were gasping heavily, wary of any sudden moves. The Lupus stood staring at Claybrook for a long while, as if he was trying to remember who he was. Then something snapped inside his brain. "You..." he slowly drew out. "You're a Lazarian." His facial expression shifted from astounded to furious. "No, you're one of them! You sick little--!"

Afraid of what Atheos would do next, Claybrook used the butt of the weapon, combined with his closed fist, to slam Atheos's head, forcing him to the ground and knocking him out. Claybrook hadn't killed him, but he won't be doing much in the next few hours.

Claybrook inspected the weapon Atheos used. It had a metal hollow pipe with a wooden grip. There was also a large cylinder with six small holes in it. There was a button on the side that had caught Claybrook's curiosity. He pressed it, and then the cylinder swung out the side of the weapon. In it he discovered four of the six holes were occupied by something that looked to be made out of copper. These must be the things that harmed the Igna, concluded Claybrook. He patted the back of the cylinder as the four metal things flew into his hand. What a disgusting weapon. A coward's weapon. He took the copper things and threw them somewhere, never to be found again.

He turned to Vesilia, who in turn looked back at him with an agape mouth. She looked panicked and distanced herself as Claybrook approached her. It wasn't her he was going for, however. Instead he slowly approached the body of Buris and crouched, inspecting it. Fortunately his chest was still pumping, so he was just barely alive.

"No!" cried Vesilia. "Don't you dare touch him, you cold-blooded monster!" She went from a cowering woman to a fierce monster, running up and hitting Claybrook square in the jaw. Claybrook fell due to the impact, looking up at her with shock.

"Ow!" he cried out. "What in the world--? What was that for?"

Before she could land another injury, she stopped in her tracks, looking at him with the same expression of surprise and shock. "You..." she began slowly. "You...can speak?"

"Of course I can," replied Claybrook as he felt his cheek. "Ow! That really hurts!"

"How?" she pressed him for answers. "How can you understand me? How can you speak our tongue? You can't speak our tongue!"

Claybrook stood back up and met up to her. "What makes your tongue so special?" he asked. "I can perfectly understand what you are saying. Do you take me for a blunt idiot? I'm not that uneducated."

"No," she replied, sounding offended. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just that you're...and you can--"

"Speak?" Claybrook replied. "Yes, I can do that." Claybrook turned to Buris's body and fell to his knees. "And I can also do this."

Before he could work his magic, Vesilia grabbed Claybrook's arm and held it high. "And what do you think you're doing, coldblood? Just because you can speak my language doesn't mean you're unlike the rest. That is my husband's body you're staring down at. And you let the killer get away! I won't allow anything else done to him!"

He slowly rose, slowly turned to her, then glanced down, revealing his slit pupils. One interesting trait Claybrook possessed was the ability to show hostility. When his pupils were round, he was placid. When they were slit, like a cat's or a snake's, then he was hostile. Vesilia was intimidated by his visage as she slowly let go and backed away. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he said. "If you want your husband back so badly, then stand out of my way. There's something I can do to aid him."

"And...what might that be?" she asked in a much nicer tone. Maybe now she realizes that Claybrook is the superior force in this confrontation.

Claybrook blinked, returning his pupils back to their round shape. "Watch and see," he said. Crouching over Buris's body. he turned it over. Buris was gasping heavily, almost shivering as he clung on for dear life. Claybrook moved the hand that was covering the wound to reveal the cut. It was a nasty one, but it was something he knew he could handle. He pressed his palms together.

"Xouc," said Claybrook, casting the same spell that he had used on the Igna. Claybrook suspended the orb of light between his hands and dropped it on Buris's wound. The bloody cut was slowly starting to undo itself, fusing the skin back to where it was supposed to be. Vesilia could do nothing but stare in awe. Once the cut had disappeared, the light faded away. Buris's unsettling breathing had slowed down to a normal rate. Now it just seemed as he was sleeping more than anything. He smiled as he lifted his head. "He's better. Listen," he said as he gestured to Buris's body.

Vesilia pressed her head on her husband's chest and grew a great smile as she heard the slow sound of his heartbeat. She looked back at Claybrook. "H--" she tried. "How? How did you do this?"

Claybrook shrugged. "Magic," he said as if were nothing. Then he grew faint, falling backwards and landing on the grassy floor on his bottom. "Gah!"

"What's wrong?" Vesilia cried.

"Gah!" whimpered Claybrook, pressing fingers to his temple. "Ah, it's nothing." He got back up to a kneeling position. "It's just that magic in general..." he took a deep breath, "takes a lot out of you. I'm exhausted and unconditioned." He shook his head. He caught sight of the knapsack Vesilia had carried. "Do you have any food you're willing to donate? I don't think I've eaten in days."

Vesilia showed him the bag. Claybrook looked into it, and all he found was spools of bandages. "I'm sorry," she said. "Some bandits had ransacked us. We survived, but they ripped my bag and nabbed six days' worth of food."

Claybrook shook his head. "Shame," he said as he took one of the bandages and wrapped it around Buris's chest, attempting to close his wound. "But we need to get these guys to safety. What's the nearest settlement from here?"

"Well," said Vesilia, turning her head around and pointing back from where they came from, "the city of Tempus is about half a day's walk from here--"

"Then we'll go there," Claybrook said immediately. He crouched down and picked us Buris's body, swinging him over his left shoulder. "Come on, lead the way."

"What?" she asked. "No, you can't go there."

"Why not?"

"Because that's an Ammal settlement. You won't last a minute when surrounded by Ammals."

"What's an Ammal?" asked Claybrook. I've never heard the term before.

"I am an Ammal," she said. Then she pointed to Buris. "He's an Ammal." Then she pointed to Atheos, still unconscious. "And he's an Ammal." She turned back to Claybrook. "You're not an Ammal. You and that Igna are both Pretiels."

Pretiels? Things just keep getting weirder and weirder. Claybrook shook his head rapidly. "Look, what I am is not going to matter. These two need help, and there's no way you can carry them on your own. Either we head out to this city of yours, or we leave them to rot and die. We can't stay here either; Buris will succumb. Infection will get him quick if we don't hurry. Now lead the way," he said as he moved over to Atheos's body. He picked him up and slung him over his right shoulder. The weight of two grown men over-encumbered Claybrook, but he wasn't about to complain. He had offered to volunteer, and there's no backing out now. "Now go. Move before I faint from exhaustion."

She nodded her head as she picked up the possessions of both men, including that strange weapon. Then she started walking, leaving the small clearing this jungle had to offer. "I've been meaning to ask," she said, "what's your name?"

"Claybrook," he replied. "Claybrook Sokki, at your service."

"Claybrook, hm," she hummed. "Interesting. A name fit for a legend. I like it."