[Boboiboy] Made by History

A Pitfall

Excuses are part of the schedule now.

I really was busy this time, ok? Spent every waking moment writing essays and letters for university applications. I also did a little trade for some visuals, my side of which took another month to complete.

On the bright side: this section's over 22,000 words, by far my longest work, so brace yourselves.

Warnings: deadly flora & fauna (mentioned) graphic depictions of violence, falling & getting trapped (in a pit), near death experiences, hostile insects.

***

Taufan exhaled out his tension as the last of the Os-Mine hills disappeared behind his back. Gopal slumped in relief. And yet, neither of them could entirely rid themselves of fear.

Yes, they had gotten past—well, skirted around—the notorious Os-Mine hills without incident. Yes, they were incredibly glad and thankful for this (the childhood tales of dragons and digit-eating Granous were not fun). *1

But before that, there had been villages, and there had been rumours. And the further up the Great North Road they travelled, the more vividly those rumours painted a terrifying picture of Deltora's northeast.

Moths that spat deadly venom when touched. Waterweed that disguised quicksand as harmless grass. Tall, slender waterbirds that lured in prey with orchards of sweet, golden, sleep-inducing fruit.

And a curse on all those who entered the territory of Emperor Reramos and his generals, which Taufan and Gopal had just done.

Taufan was fairly sure he wasn't cursed (yet), but then, who was he to know what being cursed felt like? He'd never experienced any sort of magic in his life. For all he knew, the blue that kept flitting unnervingly around the edges of his vision was a symptom, although he kept telling himself it was just a very swift bird.

Blue flashed in the corner of his eye again, but like the first dozen times, when he turned to look, there was nothing there.

"Did you see that?" He asked Gopal, carefully scanning the treeline.

"See what?" Gopal asked back.

Alright, that settled it, Taufan was cursed. He turned to Gopal to share this conclusion, and found the older boy peering fearfully through the gaps in his fingers.

Never mind.

Taufan sighed, though not without some relief, and forcefully pried Gopal's fingers off his face.

"Constant vigilance," He quoted Dad to Gopal, "You can't defend yourself if you don't see the attack coming."

This turned out to be ironic in the extreme, because when Taufan finished and happened to look over his shoulder, it was to see a brownish blur flying straight for his face.

He yelped and ducked, the projectile whistling over his head before curving around like a boomerang. His gaze followed it back into the hand of someone who had definitely not been there a moment ago, dressed in red and black and sporting two odd tufts of hair that pointed upwards.

"Hey! What was that for?" Taufan demanded, drawing his spear in case the person tried to take his nose off again, "And who are you?"

The person didn't reply (not that Taufan had really expected them to) but instead bounded forward, brandishing two short staffs. He—it became clear as the person got closer that it was a young man—threw them one after the other, aiming for Taufan's head and knee. Taufan blocked and frustratedly watched them spin right back into their owner's hands.