Rise of Tempest Merlin

Chapter 7

Creon opened the door handle which appeared to him in the form of a smooth polished surface and dark mahogany in colour. It looked so real that he felt that he could probable even smell the varnish if he tried.

The small path widened into a multicolored beach with every size of rock - from boulders big enough to sit on, to grains that got stuck between your toes. Beyond was a flat lake, the far shore a thin line in the distance growing into a sheer cliff face. In the black watery mirror was only the constellations, starlight so old and young. Wooden boats sent ripples to subside in the deeper water, each moored to the protruding pontoon. As they approached the waterline, he bent down and skimmed a rock - the splash loud in the otherwise silent night and the ripples fading slowly from the poorly thrown pebble. Coniferous trees cast shadows across the shoreline, like the soft blanket he hid under as a child, always feeling safer unseen.

Creon had not told the members of his team his real name until now, because he did not feel that it was necessary. He had always been the one outsider who had no reason to mingle or gel in with any foster family at all.

In twilight the surface of the lake was as smooth as black glass, as the stones skipped across the still water the radiating ripples caught the moonlight. After three skips the stone sank, then once again the lake looked like glass and you could imagine walking right out onto it or skidding across the surface in your socks.

He was always sent back to the orphanage because the families could not understand how they were supposed to handle a young boy with his strength. The character that he had chosen for the game, Creonitidaes was not a usual character. His Avatar was a huge hulking figure but with a vigour and exuberance of youth that was not mostly found in the heroes of the Greek Quests. He had always liked Hercules, no idea why.

How close he was to coming to understand what his quest was going to be when the others were also trying to find out a way of their own was a mystery to him. But the only problem that lay with him was he was not very good with mysteries.

“For truth drill down into your soul, find that lake of pure water that will wash you clean should you truly desire it. Learn who you really are, who you were born to be, and you will be set free.”

A female voice spoke to him and he whirled back to find no one….

“What the freak?” he commented and a laughter was heard again. The same female voice…it felt almost same as the sound of glass crinkling on the brass surface of a bell. It was sweet yet, there was something unnatural about the entire thing.

“Lady…please show yourself. We need to talk face to face. I don’t get this riddly things at all,” said Creon as this time there was light hearted chuckle.

“But then again that is the task, my dear combatant, all these years have passed and very few players have been even able to understand the meaning of the words and try and search out me. I am never going to be visible to your mortal eyes unless you are worthy of me. Your worth should be far greater than your desire and at this moment I can only see that you neither have worth and nor desire. You are clueless bumbling buffoon who has no idea what he is doing here,” said the voice which was laced with scorn.

“Hey lady…what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you trying to demotivate me and talk me down? Do you think that in all these years you are the only one who has said nonsense to me and underestimated my capabilities?” shot back Creon but the laughter did not diminish.

“Oh…you talk back as well…then why don’t you figure out what I told you and then we can have a chat, face to face.  Am also quite bored down here talking to dead skulls….at least with a new body in hand my pets will have fodder for days to come,” said the voice again and Creon could feel that something very big was moving about in the lake and was rushing towards him at a very fast pace.

Creon knew that once he was in water then he would never be able to fight this thing or monster whatever it was. But all he needed to do was to bring the monster to where he was..on land because unless this monster was an amphibian the ground was not it’s element. And here he could fight the monster.

Suddenly there was noise from all around him…and the noise was of hooves pounding on the ground and trampling it beneath their feet.

Creon lifted his head in confusion, needing to ascertain what the hell was making that noise. He knew it was the creature, but he had to make sure. He didn’t. But he wanted to. And he’d already strained his neck enough that whether he placed it back into the dirt or not, he would be as visible as if he took a look. And so he did. He saw the thing, heard its snapping and its new whining. He saw it rearing up, spinning in circles, pounding the dirt and the already previously trampled rapeseed with its foremost legs. Making a shoddy looking crop circle, with various elongated edges. None fitting the previous line’s attempts at order. As it reared up and bellowed it's many cries, it's legs snapped outwards no more than an inch. Every time it cried, it did this elongation, or every time it elongated it cried. He couldn’t be sure, but he relished in the idea that the beast was uncomfortable in its body. He gained some solace in that fact. However, the snapping also came as the hoofs, hoofs being what he imagined them to be with all the rearing giving an equestrian feel, impacted the ground. Forcing the joints to retract into their non-dislocated positions.

What kind of monster was it? It was definitely not a centaur, because it did not have a human head…it had hooves and definitely was trying to kill him. Strange skin….with pores in it…it looked a bit like frogs…then finally Creon realized that might be this was an anomaly because no creature was supposed be a hybrid of a frog and a horse at the same time.

The monster was a predator. His frontal eyes were better than any hawk and his teeth sharper than steak knives. He moved in the shadows until his victim was in reach and then the tentacles would shoot out and pull them into his mouth. For the most part they didn't even have time to call out and all one could hear was the crunching of bones.

But Creon was not a very common person…this was a game and he was playing to win. He was not going to get vanquished in the first level of this game by getting beaten at what he did best by a hybrid monster. There must be some weak point that this frog-horse hybrid had….something at all….

Creon swerved and ducked as soon as the tentacles came out trying to capture and hold him. As he swerved he saw that the tentacles had pod like stuff attached to the underneath of them which might have some kind of sucking mechanism. What kind of freaking weirdo makes a monster to fight like this?

Creon tried racking his brain thinking what did frogs hate? Because it seemed that it was trying to keep itself close to the water at all times which could only mean that it was drawing its strength from water. And the sky…was overcast with dark metallic grey clouds. If it started raining at this point then he was going to get washed away. Frogs hated the sunshine because that would cause the water particles from their skin to evaporate even faster than it was actually normal.

He had to find how to bring the sun underneath the clouds…..