68 GLAMOUR

Every newly Reborn man, woman, child and everything in between had many dangers to face in their freshly entered life of leveling. It was their duty. To live and die by the sword, claw and maw. 

Whether that be the jaws of a fire breathing kobold or with the poison tipped claw and fang of a desert Gnoll bandit. 

They had to face it head on. 

It plagued their dreams and nightmares. 

But there was one other. 

An elusive other. One that skipped the mind of the average newly reborn. One that only existed as myth and boogeyman to the unitiated. 

To those that weren't chosen, these shadowy figures didn't exist.

To those that were, the threat of monsters and tangent hells fell to the wayside. 

Tangents were other worlds. Ones they could escape— ones they could step out of and breathe clean peaceful air. 

The dark-eaters existed in man's world. They were right around the corner. They existed wherever dark gods played their existential

games with their flesh born chess pieces called human beings. 

They were everywhere and nowhere. Many and none. 

They were on Claude's porch. 

Claude remembered his father's word on them from years before— on a Halloween night when he asked for a scary story. 

"If you can see them it's already far, far, too late…."

Claude panicked. For all he'd been through and only recently achieved, he panicked. 

A warm deafening rainbow aura washed over him like soapy waters from a celestial pond. 

[Defensive Boost Active!] 

[HP +20%]

Claude didn't relax. 

But he wasn't panicked anymore. 

His mind was a funnel, synthesizing and pouring all his fears and negativity into an urgent whisper from vocal cords lined by fresh adrenaline blended mana. 

"Run free." 

Claude's animal brethren did just that. 

The dark-eaters— three of them, causally got up. All except one.

One of them turned into smoke and was gone in a breez.

The other flew for the sky in a dark blur. 

Gil stepped forward with his hands up, "Please, my fellow government sl—" 

The dark-eater still resting on Gil's porch adjusted their seating position. Their cloak fluttered, the sunlight above reflected off the rune-written revolver in their hand just before Claude saw six flashes of light. 

Gil was suddenly covered in gun shot wounds. 

He hit the grass and twitched once before going completely still. 

Claude's heart sank, submerging into a bubbling pool of rag—

Another shot rang out, Claude still couldn't hear. He noticed it by the flashes from the porch. 

He had no idea who was hit until he tried to run and fell flat on his face.

White-hot pain rippled through his leg. He spared a glance down at himself and took note of the gunshot wound in his knee. 

Shards of his bone stuck out of the gory puncture wound like opaque glass. His vision warbled like he was viewing the horror show through a wobbling window pane. 

Still no sound. He was deaf. Forcing his eyes to crank up the intensity. 

In the greatest detail he'd ever known, he watched the dark-eater from before materialize from the smoke focused in front of him.

It was quick. Seamless. One moment dark smoke was spinning up the grass and leaves around him. The next, a dark cloaked man with a mask of black glass was looming over him like some antagonistic mockery of a god. 

He wasn't grand or all powerfully prideful. He was slight. Easily missed. Yawning, out of boredom. 

He reached down with big hands and grabbed Claude, dragging him face down so his blown out knee could get caked with dirt and grass. The pain was unlike anything. He screamed until he could feel his throat rip. He felt like passing out— but he couldn't. 

"Dad…. Dad!"

The dark-eater lifted him as they approached their destination in front of his father's cabin. 

The one with the all-powerful magic revolver remained seated. 

Claude let his eyes roam. Beside him, in the dark-eaters other hand, Ms. Oracle was held by her hair. Blood dripped from her nose in a steady drip drop in the grass. 

He only just realized he could hear again. That very thing had him cringing as the seated dark-eater dug into their pocket and pulled out a scroll of paper. 

They turned it upside down and flipped it over twice before reaching up with delicate knobby knuckled hands and taking off their mask. 

Beneath was a woman. A bald woman with hawkish features and pure white eyes. Her scalp was covered in narrative tattooing that toed the line between modern and tribal. From what he could see, it was of a woman in wolf pelt being gunned down by shadows in the shape of man.

Somehow fitting…

"You're Claude Grey?"

Claude groaned in pain. 

She shrugged, "You fit the general description. Bronze skin, military haircut, slight in height and build."

Silence spread. Somehow awkward. 

"I'm Eater-of-the-Dark Luna, here on a dark-hunt for a boy under suspicion of being chosen by a dark-god. Use of necromancy and spiritmancy alleged by the Stargazer HexBlade family— supported further by two outside sources known as Ravon Aurorath and Jean Firescribe of the University of the Phoenix. Also both HexBlades."

Claude thought as well as he could on the names. "Aurorath…. Firescribe? I don't even know any Hexblades…. Wait. The Wraiths— and the ones controlling the goblins. I thought I didn't peak their suspicions. I thought the spirit rising at the end of the island gauntlet was a fake. I'm so confused. I'm so…." 

"To put it simply, you're screwed." 

"But-" 

"Even if no dark-god has chosen you— which I wouldn't be surprised by, do you know how much money I've been offered for this dark-hunt? Three thousand gold. I don't have to ever hunt again." She said. 

"So you don't think I'm chosen?" Claude asked between tears and grunts of pain. 

She looked him over and shrugged, "Doesn't matter. It never does." 

He held her gaze for a moment before baring his teeth, "You're a SPINELESS BIT—" 

"We all are as long as the gods exist." She rubbed her tattooed scalp. Her fingers reeked of gunpowder and cinnamon. 

"Even the good ones right? I know they don't support this. You….. you killed…. You killed…" Claude couldn't voice the death of his father. He couldn't stop his throat from tightening. 

"Oh grow up, boy. You're a soldier. You know this happens. And no, again, it doesn't matter. All gods are a stain— a fog of muck plastered across our planet. Even our minds. There is no good god. There is the god that kills you with his hands and the other that kills you with circumstances. They're all shit."

"You're wrong!" 

"Really, dog-boy? You wanna lecture the expert on their field of expertise?" Eater-of-the-Dark Luna questioned, "Let's try an example. One that fits you... hmm….. Boreas who do you think would like this one?" 

The dark-eater that was once a cloud of dark wind shrugged, "Maybe Fenrir?" 

"Ah! The greatest victim of all time. Perfect example." Luna said. "Let's talk about your good gods. Odin, Thor, Tyr. The Aesir gods are the good ones, right? The wise and the moral warriors. They're the same ones that banded together and attempted to murder a gods damned puppy because they were scared he'd grow too big. Man's best friend— turned into a slave. "

Claude was barely paying attention. He didn't know of any Fenrir. No such being ever visited him in the Astral Realm. 

"The wolf lived. And what did he do? He didn't pledge revenge or strive to be better. He wants the end of everything. He wants to eat the sun. No ability to discern or think critically. Just like his forefathers. Just like all gods. They're not us. They're not people. They're symbols and concepts given ultimate might. They're a wicked swarm of testosterone and egotistical bullshit. And you know what? You smell like you've stepped in some."

Luna stood up and walked over to Claude, sniffing him like a dog. She backed away suddenly. 

"What is it?" 

Luna's eyes widened and she put her mask back on, "It's too many. We're wiping this whole forest. His little dogs too, we know the dark ones like to jump ship early. Tell Anax to bring the storm."

Claude went wild before the wind around him compressed him into stillness. 

"STOP! WAIT!" Claude looked up and called out to the dark-eater in the sky. Stopping only when he realized there wasn't one in the sky. 

"Luna. Anax isn't there." Boreas said as he held Claude and Ms. Oracle. 

Claude looked back down and found the barrel of Luna's revolver fixed between his eyes. 

But she wasn't pulling the trigger. She wasn't moving. Not even breathing. 

"The hell did you do?" Boreas shook Claude.

"I— nothing!" 

"Looks like the magic of the gods to me. I'll enjoy this payout. Good night, ki—"

"Your name is, Boreas?" A new voice said from behind them both. The voice was chilling. Absolutely devoid of emotion and human character. After-sounds of rustling leaves and stomping hooves cloaked each word. 

"Who the h—"

"Don't move, Boreas. Not a muscle." 

Boreas went still. Claude could feel it in how he was held. 

"You know, it's a bad mistake to let my kind know your name. Names hold power. Power tied to your very creation. The….. essence…. Of your being. I understand it now. I understand the essence of you, Boreas. It's my element. You are my element. One I don't wish to maintain. So dissipate as you do, forever."

Boreas gasped and burst into dark wind. When the breeze came, he was gone. 

Claude fell onto his face— gasping in dazed pain as he landed on his destroyed knee. 

He rolled over. There was no wind left in his lungs to gasp further, but the being that stood before him was breathtaking all the same. 

Nothing he recognized. 

It looked like a dream. 

It had the basic physical frame of a centaur. Only its body wasn't half horse. Not fully. Its front legs were like that of a wolf. Its back legs were more equine though, all covered in shaggy dark green and brown fur. A hybrid of roots, veins and moss mottled the fur and grew from the skin, trailing up to its more humanoid upper body of pure white fur. The creature was brawn and might and divinity all wrapped in one. It was both perfectly symmetrical and wildly untamed in stature. It had ears like an elf— only three times as large and horns like a ram. Its nose was flat and wide as a dwarf with sideburns like his father. When it looked down at him, it snorted and green gas spirals spun free. 

"Will you give me your name as well?" 

"….No." 

The beast smiled, "Your instincts are old. They remember me— even if you don't here." It said while pointing at its forehead with a three fingered hand. 

"What…. Are you?" 

"Ask him." The beast pointed to the grass. 

Claude turned and found nothing. 

Nothing other than a single dandelion in the grass. 

Just then, it grew into a dozen dandelions. Then they merged. The petals thickened and expanded into human shape. Roots from below ground framed the shape and gave it solid form until suddenly, he stood before Claude. 

"Dandelon." Claude said.

The dryad with a killer mustache nodded, "It is I." 

"What is all this?" 

"My attempt once again at playing the hero." Dandelon said, "Your father lives." 

Claude's eyes widened. 

"Lupines don't go down so easy. I removed the bullets. He's healing." Dandelon explained. 

"And who is this?" 

"Durrin Obeyronn. He is Fey." 

"Fey…?" Claude found the word familiar even though he didn't know what it was. 

"One of the old races. They usually remain in their world, but I have kinship with this one." Dandelon explained. 

Durrin studied Claude.

Claude tried to get up and the fey held him to the floor with a paw. 

"So this is the one with the essence?" 

Dandelon nodded, "He is…. A unique child. He is only a seed now, but like many, the tools to become a great oak reside within."

"Hm….. I'll judge this on my own." Durrin said coldly before lifting his paw, "Rise. I'm done killing. We must evade now." 

"What?" 

Dandelon nodded. 

"Step aside, seed." Durrin said. 

"Wha— why?" 

"Move." Durrin snorted like a bull ready to charge. 

Claude limped out of the way— only then noticing that weeds and brilliantly colored flowers wrapped his leg. 

Durrin raised a finger. Green and gold dust flowed— symbols spun within, reminding him of runes. As more of the natural dust rode the winds, the air warbled. Colors and shapes shifted and interwove themselves through the cloak of reality until Claude witnessed the impossible. 

He saw himself, still standing in front of Luna, now with his system screen shown as she read it over with magic eyes. Boreas and Anax stood by idly. They were talking, but he was unable to hear. She kept her gun between his eyes as Durrin and Dandelon watched. It took a minute before she lowered it and left with her allies— unknowing that they were simply mirages and her real allies were….. dead. 

Claude looked away from her only when he caught movement elsewhere. 

His father walked out of the forest circle with gunshot wounds covered in leaves that seemed to blend with his skin. Frosty and the others followed him. 

Claude could've passed out if he wasn't still high on the flow of his own adrenaline. 

He turned to see Ms. Oracle beside him, still unconscious but not nearly as injured as they were. 

Gil crashed into him before he knew it. 

"I'm never putting you down." 

"Sounds like hell." 

"I think that's what we just escaped." Gil said as Frosty and the others jumped on them, trying to get between the father and son. 

"We didn't escape. We were saved."

Claude disconnected from Gil, knowing they were watching. 

Durrin and Dandelon stood calmly. 

"Dad…. This is—"

"If you give him my name, I will fill your brain with fire-fungus and grin as your eyes melt from your skull." Durrin said. 

"Oh…." Claude mumbled, "Well…. This is Dandelon and his friend."

"I know you." Gil said to the dryad. 

Dandelon nodded, "I've watched you roam many of these forests." 

Gil made a face, "I'm still unable to understand dryad-tongue. Too many vowels and tone switches. Sorry, friend."

"Your father is a good man." Dandelon said as he turned to Claude. 

"Thanks." 

Gil turned to Claude then. "Hey kid, the hell happened to no more secrets?"

"What do you mean?" 

"You speak dryad?" 

"I..." Claude trailed off, remembering how Ms. Oracle also didn't understand Dandelon and his conversation. 

Dandelon smiled, "You are unique, child." 

"It must be the dryadic essence." Claude realized. "You changed me." He said to Dandelon. 

"My children saw me in you. That is all." Dandelon explained, "They changed nothing. Only cultivated what was already growing from your internal soil." 

"Also— I see no friend." Gil said as he looked around. 

Durrin looked annoyed, "Only my kind may see me. Tell him this. Now." 

Claude turned to Gil, "Du….. I mean, Dandelon's friend can only be seen by other nature element users." 

"Ahhhhh….. interesting. That supposes each element is a plane. And the element is merely a byproduct— if living things exist on the same plane that is. Hmm—"

"Dad."

"Sup."

"Are you trying to do research after we almost just died?" 

Gil ran a hand through his hair, "All in a days work, man. Plus, we'll be fine now. You have a damn Gourd of Remedy, anyways." 

Claude looked down at the gourd on his hip. "A what?" 

"That's a rare item. It boosts the healing properties and mixes whatever you put in it. Healers pay great money for those. So do solo heroes." Gil explained.  

"I see…" Claude mumbled. 

"Not that you'll need it. My healing will suffice." Durrin said with a snort. 

"Of course. I….. thank you." Claude gave a bow. 

Durrin cleared his throat, "A thank you is not how Fey work. We know what words have power and what ones don't. You will not thank me. You will owe me."

"Owe you? Like a favor?" 

Gil watched Claude speak to seemingly nothing.

"Like a favor." Durrin nodded.

"When?" 

"When I decide." Durrin said. Then he turned and walked away. The world folded inward around him. Light bended in unnatural ways. It almost reminded him of the opening of a Tangent as a green portal of fire and leaves and lightning spun into existence, swallowing the fey whole. 

Claude turned to Dandelon. 

"I'm sorry, Claude Grey. I saw no other option. The dark-eaters are strong. Stronger than me at my best. But I couldn't let you die. I couldn't let you lose your father— not when you've already lost enough." Dandelon explained. 

"I understand. I don't regret it." 

"You may." Dandelon explained, "The Fey do not follow human morality." 

"What do they follow?" 

"The Council of the Gilded Ones. Ancient god-like Fey who perceive the world differently from even us. Durrin is one of their top lieutenants. But he's good. No other Fey would've given you their name so easily. He trusts you. Trust is a heavy burden. When he comes calling you, you will call me. Whatever he has in store for you, me and mine will help you with. The forest is your home. Let our thorns be your sword." Dandelon explained. 

"….. Ok. I can do that." 

"And I this." Dandelon held out his hand. 

The gesture was oddly sweet. 

Claude took his hand to shake it. Instead, green light bloomed. 

DING!

[New Skill Gifted!] 

[Vigor Blast (LV1)] 

[Your Dryadic Essence Increases….] 

Claude disconnected hands with Dandelon and found a dark green spiraling tattoo design in his left hand. Verdant sparks of energy squirmed within the marking.

Across from him, Ren hopped around nipping at his left paw as the same design glimmered to life there. 

Dandelon was gone when Claude looked up from his hand. In his place, a single dandelion bloomed. 

"Somehow, I feel like that wasn't an even trade." 

"What?" Gil asked. 

Claude sighed, "I'll tell you later." 

He didn't have the energy. 

Together, the two of them helped up Ms. Oracle and brought her inside. 

The whole way, Claude's mind cleared and he remembered something said in the tangent. 

"The boss— the Insect Shaman called me Fey….."