3. Maybemountains

Darus had made his new mountains in no time. Along the Nightriver, which was often called the Nightswamp instead during this time period. The Maybemountains were easy to cross for gods, but not for the small land dwelling animals. Frankly, they were stony hills, no more.

Feria, however, couldn’t leave behind the animals who now saw her as their guardian angel. So she took them with her on her journey to the Throne, with Darus, even if it meant a much slower journey. These creatures never had to do anything else than slowly eat plants—so they couldn’t do anything else. The pace was adjusted to the slowest of the group: a bearded dragon with an infected leg who could barely take a step.

The sun rose and Feria saw the proof everywhere. Left and right, bodies of dead animals were covered by plants or carried by the waves. Yes, there they would be, those Fleshfeasters. Always watching, always hidden, until an unsuspecting creature just walks into their vicious claws.

And any time she thought that, her rage increased. “We have to exterminate them, while we still can,” she whispered to Darus at the front.

He looked surprised. “I’d think the Goddess of Animals would think a little longer before deciding to kill her own animals.”

“This is different. I don’t count the Fleshfeasters. If we don’t do it, only more animals will be killed. Until no life remains!”

“Nah, I’d say the plants will be just fine without animals.”

Feria couldn’t stand his jokey air and walked away. “I’ll discuss it with Ardex and Bella. They’ll agree with me.”

“And then? You don’t even know who or where they are. And what if, a hundred years from now, another animal happens to grow sharp teeth and flesh eating behavior?”

Feria quickened her pace. “This is no coincidence. Someone is behind this. How else would these Fleshfeasters suddenly appear? You hear nothing about this group for thousands of years, and now suddenly—”

“Because animals couldn’t talk yet, Feria.”

“You never take anything seriously.”

“You always overreact.”

Their discussion continued, for days, as they finally reached the Throne. The animals had complained about how hungry they were, and how much they wanted to lie down and do nothing. Even if Feria had wanted, her paws were tight. Most of these plains also lay barren, eaten away by the countless herbivores.

They should’ve gone to the other side of the Nightriver. Where all the other animals went.

But, well, give it a week and all food would be depleted there too. She had to change something now. And if she had to choose between peaceful herbivores and mean Fleshfeasters, she knew which group had to go.

Darus ran ahead and asked Ardex to meet them halfway. Feria used the time for research. She asked everyone what they knew, but answering was hard. Only the bearded dragons gave meaningful responses.

“When did you first hear about them?”

“Long, long ago. Legends say that they only lived in the water then. En we did not live there, so no problem.”

“But where do such legends come from? Who started them?” Feria wondered if she missed something crucial. Was there a time in which animals could talk perfectly? Were things better underwater? She had to ask Gulvi, but he never dared speak out about such hard topics. He was scared that, if he said anything wrong, firegod Ardex would come up with some destructive plan to “solve the issue”.

The bearded dragons waved their tails. “Someone. Someone with power, because one night I even heard the gods talk about this issue.”

“Who? Which gods?”

“Cosmo and another. They talked about the CARN issue and the CARN mission. But they comforted the other animals, said nothing was wrong, and so we … assumed nothing was wrong.”

You must understand, dear reader, that life was slow at this time. Little danger. Animals lived forever. It could take a hundred thousand years before a new animal species evolved or anything changed. If the bearded dragon said something was long ago, you must think in thousands of years, not one or two years.

“And then?”

“Nothing. You’d see an animal each day, then they disappeared, but that’s not strange, right? They stayed legends, until …”

“Until?”

The bearded dragon leaned forward and whispered, as if Feria was his little kid. Sometimes she forgot she was a Goddess and not like the animals. She had sharp tooth, yes, but she didn’t need to eat. She looked like a fox because Father happened to change her into that when they were banished. She could swim underwater, but was no fish. She could touch an animal and feel if they were sick—and, if fortunate, also heal them.

“I spoke to multiple bearded dragons who all say the same thing,” the creature whispered. “The Fleshfeaster nest is at the other side of the Nightriver, as far away from the gods as possible. They are with thousands.”

Feria wanted to stop listening, but she couldn’t stop, scared and curious.

“They are everywhere, if you know where to look. Their shadows are behind trees. Their sharp tooth shine in the moonlight. You hear their growls in your nightmares when you sleep. For if you don’t look … they get you.”

As he talked, his beard had blown up. A large skin below his chin, covered in black dots, filled with air until it was larger than Feria’s head. It had soft spikes and made the bearded dragon look almost as intimidating as its name suggested. The only land animal Feria assumed could somewhat defend itself.

She saw Ardex and Darus come, as two wild dogs on the horizon. Not far behind them, Eeris hobbled, the long giraffe who looked angry for a change. They met along the Green Path, close to where it ended and no creature could pass some invisible wall to the South.

When they stood next to her, panting, they wasted no time.

“Bella and I agree,” Ardex said seriously. “Those Fleashfeasters must go. We have a place to which we can banish them.”

“As if that’s better,” Eeris said. “Then they will die there because there is no food!”

“The other option,” Darus said soothingly, “is to spread the herbivores better.”

“It takes a century to bring them to another place!” Feria hoped the animals following her weren’t insulted.

“Then we bring them ourselves,” Darus said. They all assumed he was joking—he wasn’t.

“And how do you propose to move hundreds of thousands of animals with seven busy gods?”

“Ho, no, I say we do nothing of that. We ask other animals to help.”

“Who? These animals are weak, lazy, immovable!” Feria, again, hoped her insults weren’t heard.

“During my travels, I befriended some animals who are large. And strong! And healthy! I’ve been using them for small missions for years.”

“What?” Ardex felt most insulted of all. He was probably about to bring some quote like: we are gods, brother dear, and we do NOT beg animals to help us like beggars!

“You aaaall received your magical Heavenmatter from the Heavenly Palace.” Darus counted on his fingers, even though he could barely count. “Ardex got his Firering, Feria her Hespryhound, etcetera, etcetera. And me? I got nothing. I haven’t received my magical Heavenmatter yet. So I need all the help I can get!”

Feria couldn’t even remember what his special object was, though she knew it was powerful. She felt guilty. Darus was always ready to help, always friendly and among the animals, and they merely treated him like a bumbling idiot that sometimes moved mountains.

“I can do it, really,” Eeris said, pleading. “Create enough plants for all. We can do this.”

Ardex reacted instantly. His answer seemed ready before Eeris even asked. “No. Darus, use your help to spread the animals to fresh jungles and forests across the entire world. And those Fleashfeasters must die. If you finally catch one, bring them here. I’ll bring them to a safer place.”

“To which place—”

“Better it remains secret. We can’t trust anyone anymore.”

The animals responded to this with varied noises. Cheering wasn’t a thing yet, but the shouts sounded enthusiastic and positive.

“Then we first have to find out who they are,” Feria whispered. “And where.”