Paan’s POV

Paan stood at his post just before the tunnel’s entrance, bored out of his mind and more than a little cranky. His guard shift had started right when the celebration was getting going, and since gone were the days when time was an arbitrary thing that mostly depended on what Elder Raad decided, Paan had been unable to weasel his way out of his duties.

‘All that food,’ he thought with nearly physical pain. Whatever those bananas Atakarr and Prime had found were, Paan definitely wanted more. And he was sure he was far from the only one.

It had made the meat taste so... good, and that was after it had been mixed with water, which Paan was pretty sure would weaken the taste of anything.

And to think they’d found this on The Bridge; not even needing to go all the way up to the upper island. What other good food could be sitting up there? The teen wondered. Just waiting for them to come and get it.

Over the generations, the upper island had acquired an almost mythical status among the Seena. They all knew it was there, true, but since no one had been there in living memory, nobody actually knew anything about the place besides that it was as dangerous as it was lush. And even that was from stories passed down.

This had left room for imaginations to run quite far afield, with people speculating about what the upper island was like and what could be found on it. Well, Paan now knew of one thing that could be found on it, and he wanted more.

It would be dangerous though; Prime himself had said so, and Paan knew his own skill levels were nowhere near Prime’s or Atakarr’s.

Looks like some training might be in order then. Atakarr was always stressing the importance of training as often as possible after all. Not to mention that it would certainly be a better use of his time than standing around.

Paan took a stance with his spear, then began to battle an imaginary enemy.

To anyone who was actually trained to use a spear, it would be obvious that Paan was not using any actual style of fighting. He was simply attacking in the ways that felt most natural to him, since the [Pole-arm Handling Proficiency] skill didn’t actually teach one how to use a spear, but simply made them more... sensitive to figuring out the best way to accomplish whatever they wanted to do with a spear.

Several minutes of thrusting and slashing later, Paan sensed someone walking towards him from within the tunnel.

“Paan?” a wizened, female voice called, and not long after a woman stepped from around the bend that had kept her from sight till now.

It was his grandmother, or, as most in the tribe called her, Elder Raad.

“Grandma? What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, the old woman observed Paan’s sweating form for a minute before asking in return, “is your guard post the best place to train your skills?”

Paan shrugged. “Nothing ever happens anyway,” he said before he could stop himself.

His grandmother gave him a look that let him immediately know that he was about to receive a lecture, but before he could rescind his comment, she said, “sit down.”

Paan obeyed instantly, despite that she hadn’t been particularly commanding.

Elder Raad sat too, facing him, and then she set the light-rock she’d lit her way with to the side next to his on the ground. The boy expected her to begin reprimanding him then, but instead a bowl of steaming broth appeared in the woman’s hands, and she handed it to him.

“I imagine none of you appreciated having to leave the party, so I brought you these,” Elder Raad said in explanation.

“Thank you,” Paan said as he happily dug in, revelling in the way that every bite exploded into that addicting, fruity flavour he’d come to know.

The meal was hot enough to badly scald a normal person’s tongue, but of course, he barely noticed. Not when the heat of the food could barely compare to what he could generate from his own hands with [Hot Touch].

His grandmother silently watched him eat for some time, then she said, “what if it happens?”

Paan paused in his chewing. “Huh?”

“What if something does happen?” She repeated. “And all it would have taken to protect the tribe was somebody here, keeping a watchful eye.”

Paan almost groaned. “Come on, grandma. You know I didn’t mean that. You know me better than that.”

Elder Raad smiled wistfully. “I do know you, Paan. Which is how I know that you don’t take this duty as seriously as you should.” Paan tried to argue but the woman continued over him. “However, as much as I wish that you did, I’m glad that you don’t.”

That left Paan blinking in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“For you to take this duty seriously, you would need to have had a personal experience that would make you do so, and I can’t wish that on you.”

Paan didn’t know what to say to that so he just went back to eating. He’d been but a baby the last time an animal had tracked a hunting party back to their home.

From the stories he’d heard growing up, apparently, the first guard had been set upon so fast that she hadn’t even had time to try to run (and didn’t it just do wonders for his heart knowing that he was currently first guard).

The second guard had suffered grievous injuries, but had managed to escape and warn the third who raised the alarm. All in all, three people had died, including the second guard, with a couple more injured. And that was before so many creatures began to run down from the upper island for some reason.

As bad as that must have been though, Paan had to admit that he’d never really felt as strongly about that event as the people who had actually experienced it.

But even so. “I do take it seriously,” he said.

“I know,” his grandmother agreed. “It is why I’ve entrusted you with it. But I am an old woman, I like to chastise people.” She smiled and Paan rolled his eyes.

The meal soon finished and his grandmother took the bowl from him.

“Thanks for the meal, grandma,” he said, and right as she was about to respond he sensed it.

People. Many people. All carrying with them a sense of muted danger. And all heading into the tunnel.

His grandmother must have sensed it too, because she was staring in the direction the people were coming from too.

From ahead of them came shadows, casted by a light source more powerful than any Paan had ever seen before, accompanied by the thumping of boots and muttered conversations.

“Who’s there?” Elder Raad called out, and the sounds from the visitors (?) all seized.

It started up slowly again, and along with the bright, almost blinding light, people walked around the first bend into eyesight.

Paan could only see their silhouettes, due to the light in his eyes that seemed to come from their heads somehow, but it was enough to tell that these people looked nothing like him or even Prime. The first few who had walked around the bend didn’t even seem to look like each other.

The foremost one for example was large. Very large. And seemed to have some sort of horn growing out of their face, while the others, who he could barely see behind the first were noticeably smaller and had no face horn.

“Who are you?” Elder Raad asked again, voice wary.

It was the large one in front that answered, in a deep, rumbling voice that somehow still sounded female. “Name’s Bobo,” she said. “And this ain’t personal.”

She began to lift an object she had in her hands, and [8th Sense] shrieked at Paan to act now.

Paan did not question it, did not second-guess it, he simply did like Atakarr always said and reacted accordingly; he vanished his spear into his inventory and clapped his hands as hard as he could.

The resulting shockwave from his level four [Boom Clap] skill was so powerful that generating it caused his hands to ache.

The wave of sound travelled forward at sonic speeds and slammed into the giant woman, causing her to stagger back, and Paan and Elder Raad took the opportunity to turn around and book it farther back into the tunnel for all they were worth.

*****

Her ears were ringing, her nose was bleeding, and the attack had caused her to fire her non-lethal round into the ceiling instead. Yet Bobo Toreebo smiled.

An exotic race with special abilities? This couldn’t get any better.

Or so she thought.