My Wild Beast-Chapter 88: The Call of Tayun (9)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Trial of the Ancient °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A tense silence filled the air, thickening, the heat and moisture that clinging to Yoa’s hair. A few strands stuck to his forehead, and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his nape. His heart grew louder in his ears as his eyes scanned his surroundings, paying attention to every single detail.

Yoa moved like smoke through the trees, each footfall calculated, each breath measured. The blade Atia had forged for Aiyana, Firstmark, rested at his hip. It gleamed softly in the dappled light that pierced the canopy, its weight a reminder of what he must do. His jaguar instincts had taken hold of him since stepping away from the guides and venturing deep through the dense forest.

He paused, his gaze tracking the earth where it had been torn beneath the weight of a mighty beast. It had lumbered through, the soil splitting, roots upturning or crushed, and claw marks raked across stone and trees. A creature that was rarely seen yet left such destruction in its wake.

He was close now. He could sense it from the slight shudder of the ground from giant paws and the serpentine creature stalking the jungle. Scorch marks burned deep in the land, as if the beast’s breath had seared the jungle. Shrubs had been flattened and vines snapped, and the air stank of sulfur, the steam rising from the ground causing Yoa to cover his nose with his arm, blade raised and ready.

The Vohraki stirred in the trees just beyond the earth’s rise, their laughter faint, their young playing freely in the safety of their territory. They didn’t know the beast that had laid claim to their lands before had crossed the border. They didn’t feel the shift in the air, not yet.

Yoa did. He’d been tracking it since first light. A beast not of these lands, not meant to be among them for all the destruction it can cause.

The Teju Jagua.

Born of fire and shadow, older than many whispered myths, its skin of thick scales, body of a giant lizard, bore claws like a jaguar, seven serpentine necks with dog heads, and eyes that glowed like twin suns. From the details of the stories Yoa had translated, the creature is saif to blind you just by locking eyes with it. Others described it as spitting poision and breathing fire.

The hairs on the back of Yoa’s head rose, alerting him to the creature a moment before the sound of a twig snapping behind him, jumped him into action. He rolled across the ground, narrowly missing the spray of venom spewing from the gaping maw of one of the creature’s heads.

It burned the bark of a nearby tree, sizzling through to its core. The creature’s tail whipped toward him and he leapt, swiping out with Firstmark. He struck the beast, but the tip of the blade snapped. Its hide was thick like volcanic stone, and the dagger Atia had spent so long creating was broken.

The Teju Jagua roared, its screech rattling the earth and silencing their surroundings, flame curling at the edge of its teeth from all seven heads. Birds fled to the skies, and the trees seemed to breathe in sharply, followed by a deadly silence.

This creature was like none he’d seen ever before. He’d seen the drawings but it had still seemed legendary, not real. The burst of flames directed at his face was as real as the heat scorching his skin.

Yoa leapt behind a tree, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down his racing heart and the urgency to survive by brute force. He batted away a spark on the tip of one of his midnight strands. Smoke curled around the singed strand and the stone he’d carved so delicately to complete the look, slid and fell to the ground, rolling away from his feet.

That took him seven sunrises to make. Yoa had to control his temper at seeing his hard work now dirtied in the earth. His gaze then slid to the blade that was still usable besides the sharp end now snapped off. He sheathed the weapon and peered behind the tree, his breathing growing steadier.

The teju jagua screeched, its eyes locking onto him. Yoa gasped and downcast his eyes as a flash of bright light swept directly to the tree he hid behind. If he’d kept staring, the beast would have blinded him.

Another screech jolted him out of his panic revelation. Then he fled to the side after hearing it’s thunderous steps, chasing him. Tree after tree, fell to it’s claws swiping at them and flattening them beneath its claws. Flames burst behind Yoa and he skidded to the right, diving on his backside along a slope, and glancing behind him.

The creature stopped in its tracks. All seven heads tipped back, roaring to the skies in rage. The slope Yoa had slid down was thick with brambles, and a few snakes hissed and fled or tried to snap at him. The young jaguar backhanded the few that tried to strike him, his attention on the creature that had turned away from him.

It could have easily followed him, trampling everything in its wake. But Yoa was hidden in the underbrush. It either couldn’t spot him and believed he escaped or it gave up, not wishing to waste more energy on him.

Yoa sought it out again, determined to pass the trial, prove Vulcan wrong and be one more step towards his goal of becoming Tayun’s guardian.

They fought. Yoa used his claws, remaining in human form, striking it, trying to find its weaknesses, and failing. The creature managed to spit venom at Yoa and fling him to the side as easy as swatting a fly.

For two sunrises, the young jaguar clung to life. Poison from a shallow cut infected his side, and he staggered through the forest, using herbs and memory to keep the fever from taking hold. Every time he rested, it came for him again. It didn’t sleep. It didn’t retreat. Only when the Vohraki drums began in the distance did it stop, pacing the boundary of their land like a ghost sniffing at locked doors.

Yoa refused to let it pass.

He tried everything—ambushes from the trees, smearing himself in the bitter sap of ash trees to confuse its sense of smell, even drawing it into a rocky ravine to trap it. But each time, it adapted. And each night, his energy waned. His limbs ached. His breath became heavier.

By the fifth sunrise, Yoa dragged himself from a shallow pool, body trembling. Burn marks ran along his arms. A gash above his eye had crusted into a tight, itchy wound. He stared at his reflection in the water, jaguar eyes staring back at him with flickering resolve.

"You are your mother’s calm and your father’s fire," he whispered, repeating the words Raokan once told him. "But fire without breath burns itself out."