Twinfinity: Quest for the Prim Pockets (4)

Chapter 4
Entering the Dead Mountains
∞

There was a distinct contrast between the Dead Mountains and the rest of the terrain surrounding the black city of Messolina. Most of the terrain was green with forests and grasslands. There were hills and valleys and some farmland for those that nourished themselves through their bellies.

And there were villages scattered throughout the lands also. The villages themselves dated back to the ancient times, to the times when the Prim had taken control of everything, establishing their version of peace upon the land, and the villages enjoyed their protection in exchange for goods.

But the Dead Mountains always loomed nearby, overlooking the outlying lands like a dark shadow, and the Dead Mountains were not green at all. They were as black as a night-sky without a single star or moon to illuminate it.

Nobody ever entered the Dead Mountains. Doing so was considered suicide. The Dead Mountains were controlled by the Barakai and the Barakai knew only one thing. Eat.

If a Prim were armed with a correllium sword, then that Prim could handle one or two Barakai. If that Prim were very skilled and focused she could handle three, but the Barakai hunted in packs of a dozen or more and swords made of normal steel were essentially useless against them. Their bodies were exoskeleton and the natural armor they had was harder than a normal steel blade, but they could be outwitted. The Barakai were lower thinking beings, minds operating on instinct and instinct alone, eating being their main focus, and it was the way that they ate that made dying to one of them so horrific.

Jo-Laina, as always, had the lead of the group. She walked carefully, with focus and intent, up the path that the ancients had somehow cut into the Dead Mountains. Greegus was directly behind her and the rest of the group was lined up by two behind them.

For the most part the group was making their way up the path in silence, but that wasn’t their normal way of traveling. The way that they normally moved about was louder than that. They often sang cadence songs, laughed and told jokes as they traveled, but this was different. It was different because they had all dealt with the Barakai on previous occasions, for the Barakai didn’t limit themselves to the Dead Mountains. The Dead Mountains offered nothing for them to eat on a regular basis, which forced the Barakai to hunt away from their isolated dwelling place, and return to it after their bellies were full.

But the group was silent for other reasons too.

They were silent because they all knew they were getting closer–A fact that Jo-Laina was very much aware of. They had actually made it to the legendary place that they had only previously heard of in stories—the place where the ancients cut a path into the uncuttable mountains—where valuable treasures were hidden—where tides could be turned—where broken ties could be mended—where Prim Pockets could be found.

And the Barakai were close. They all sensed it. They all knew it. The path was cut deep along the mountain. So deep that a flat, smooth wall was formed to their right as they marched their slow ascent, but that wall clipped away above them. There was no wall over their right shoulder. Over their right shoulders were ridges and ledges, openings and mountainous formations. There were plenty of places for the Barakai to hide along the way and hiding they were. An occasional clicking noise could be heard, which was the way the Barakai communicated. They were not alone as they made their way along, but the Barakai did not attack, which was unlike the Barakai to hold fast. Their stomachs usually didn’t permit such nonsense.

So they all knew how close they were entering the final cloak that was death. The swords that most of them were armed with would be of little help. They did have Jerifai’s arrows, but only a very well placed correllium tipped arrow would do any good, and if they were attacked by a dozen Barakai then Jerifai wouldn’t be able to loose enough arrows to do any good anyway.

So they walked.

“If I wasn’t seeing this for myself, I wouldn’t believe it.” Makus commented.

“Shh,” Jo-Vanna returned. She brought a solitary finger to her mouth for emphasis.

“Why,” Makus said back to her. “They know we’re here! If they wanted to feast on us they’d come down and do it.”

“He has a point,” Panpar added. He was three from the very back and spoke loudly, so that everyone could hear him. “And a good point I might add. The Barakai listen only to their stomachs, which are always empty, and yet they remain hidden from our eyes like prairie dogs in their burrows.