Dragon Quest - I - Chapter 2, Part 5

Boss fight? (pp 78-87)

5 - The Domovoi

“Damnit!” Aleph swore as he swung his blade down again and again, cutting his way through a thicket of giant fern leaves, vines and branches, making his way slowly southeast through a dense jungle.

Aleph didn’t quite believe in what the fortune-teller told him, but having no other direction to follow, he decided to continue his journey along with her predictions.

“Perhaps you should wait until you’ve rested up more from your travels,” Cecille had suggested worriedly, but Aleph had no time to waste.

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She had seen him off the next morning, after he stocked up on herbs and rations.

“The old lady didn’t believe that I’m Loto’s descendant, but you believe me, right?” Aleph had asked, looking to her.

Cecille looked back with a saddened, subdued gaze. A cold ocean breeze had picked up, blowing her flaxen hair about wildly. Finally she had smiled and nodded.

“Um,” she started, embarrassed. “I still haven’t heard your name.”

“It’s Aleph.”

“Aleph,” she whispered to herself. “That’s a nice name. Please be careful, Aleph.”

“Thanks. I won’t forget you. Goodbye, Cecille,” said Aleph, as he spun on his heel and walked off towards the great forest to the southeast.

Cecille had watched him go until he was out of sight, praying for his safety.

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Four days had already passed since then.

Aleph had crossed a number of forests, sparsely populated plains and even steep mountains. After entering the jungle, however, it was like he couldn’t move forward. The trees blocked the wind, and provided some protection from attack by monsters, but the thick grass and vines only got in his way. No matter how much he cut them down, more and more would block his path.

“The desert was preferable to this mess!”

After making a bit more progress, he arrived at a blackened swamp. A layer of frost surrounded its edge. Aleph slumped his shoulders and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Just then, he heard a voice from overhead.

“Shall I give you a hint?”

Aleph spun around and looked up. A disturbing-looking young boy was sitting on a tree branch above, gazing down at Aleph. It was the Domovoi.

“Who are you!?” Aleph called out, readying his sword.

“If you keep going the way you’re headed, you’ll just get lost in the middle of the jungle,” the Domovoi continued.

“What!?”

“Go this way instead,” the Domovoi said simply, pointing to the right.

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“You’ll reach the desert by nightfall.”

“The desert’s that way?”

“That’s right,” the Domovoi said with a creepy grin, then vanished without a sound.

“What was that eerie little bastard?” Aleph asked himself as he peered into the direction the Domovoi pointed. He saw only jungle identical to what he’d been traipsing through until now.

“Well, I might as well see if it’s a trap,” he said as he moved on, cutting down brambles and branches as tall as himself.

Aleph went on an on, but he never reached a desert. Endless jungle continued to surround him. Before he knew it, the sun was setting. At this rate, he’d be tripping over his own feet. He was engulfed by darkness in moments.

“Shitting demon tricked me!” he yelled angrily.

Aleph had no idea in what direction he was heading. If the sky were clear, he could climb a tree and look for the Goddess-of-Eight constellation, but from what he could see through the thick branches, the sky was completely clouded over. After deciding he should find a spot to set up camp for the night, Aleph cut down a branch in front of him and suddenly yelled in frustration. He had arrived at a familiar black swamp.

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“This swamp again!? Damn it all, I went in a circle! I swear, if I see that monster again, he won’t get off easy!”

Noticing movement, Aleph swiveled his head up to the trees, then jumped back reflexively in surprise.

A giant poisonous snake with a jutting jaw and blood-red, glinting eyes was looking at Aleph, preparing to strike. It was over five times Aleph’s height in length, and wide enough that he likely couldn’t have even wrapped both of his arms around it’s body and have his hands touch.

It was a basilisk, grown to dire size through the Dragonlord’s magic. It could probably swallow him in one bite.

Aleph shouted and tried to flee, but then froze. Two basilisks were in the tree on his right, and two more in the tree on his left. Five in total; he was completely surrounded. If he attempted to ready a spell, he’d only make himself open to their attack.

“Damn!” Aleph renewed his grip on his sword.

The five basilisks bared their fangs like wild, starving beasts circling their prey, and attacked all at once. Aleph jumped to the side, acting as if he were trying to flee as one fang pulled a hole through the sleeve of his jerkin. The next moment, he twisted his body around and brought his sword down on the basilisk’s neck.

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It was a hard cleave. Brackish dark-blue blood erupted from its neck, and the basilisk fell over.

Then, two basilisks came at him from either side simultaneously. Aleph jumped straight up as the two snakes struck. One clamped onto the other’s neck with its sharp fangs, and as Aleph came down, he swing his sword hard onto the head of the one biting down. The two spurted their dark blood and fell over on top of each other.

Two left. Aleph ran along the pond’s edge as hard as he could, but the basilisks were too fast. They were behind him in moments. Aleph turned about suddenly in attempt to get behind them, but a tail shot up and crashed into his face.

“Bruagh!”

Aleph flew back, spinning round, and landed face down in the swamp with a spray of water. The swamp water was coated with a thin layer of ice and left Aleph freezing to his core.

One basilisk, without a moment’s hesitation, lunged after Aleph just as he dove deeper into the pond. It chased after him, and once the pond’s waters settled, it wasn’t red, but thick blue blood that oozed up to the surface like oil. He had been waiting with a sword thrust to its throat beneath the swamp.

Aleph popped his head up from the surface and gulped down air. Immediately after, another spray of water shot up, and the final basilisk revealed itself behind him.

“Gah!”

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Aleph ran for his life and climbed out of the pond. The basilisk followed without hesitation, chasing Aleph up the branches of a great tree within seconds. The monster flitted out its tongue and attacked. Aleph dodged, jumping to another branch, but the snake had already circled around and stuck its head in Aleph’s way.

Aleph cried out as it’s thick, long body wrapped itself around him. The basilisk coiled itself tighter and tighter.

Aleph’s face contorted in pain. He was completely immobilized, and began to feel the strength leaving his body. The color left his face bit by bit, turning him purple. The basilisk raised its jaws, preparing to swallow Aleph’s head whole.

“Damn you!” Aleph suddenly yelled with the frenzy of one on the verge of death and chanted the Gira spell. The flames burst from his hands and surrounded the beast, causing it to screech in pain. Aleph then thrust his sword straight into its mouth with all of his might. He felt it get stuck through its skull.

The basilisk’s screeching roar of pain, a sound too horrifying to be that of a living creature, echoed throughout the jungle, and Aleph gradually felt its hold on him loosen.

“Now!”

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He lept free and swung his sword down. With a cracking sound, his blade cleaved the monster’s head in two. He followed through to the creature’s chest as he landed, the basilisk tumbling to the ground with a crash.

As if reacting to its death, the earth suddenly began to sway and churn. With a sound like the earth splitting open, the trees of the jungle began to shake.

“What the-”

Aleph stabilized his stance, feeling as if he were about to fall over. He shook his head, thinking there was something wrong with his eyes.

As the shaking grew more and more violent, the trees seemed to split into four or five, then the forest that surrounded him began to disappear.

Aleph stood stock still, frozen in terror.

It was over in an instant. The quake subsided, and in place of the thick rainforest stretched a vast, arid desert.

Aleph ran off as fast as he could, terrified of what he just witnessed. A whirlwind kicked up where he was just standing and left the Domovoi in its wake.

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“Tsk,” went the Domovoi, staring after Aleph. The fingers of his right hand were covered in vicious cuts, and thick, bluish-black blood dripped down into the sand.

Aleph ran. He eventually reached a thicket in some hills where he collapsed inside of a small cave, drawing deep breaths on all fours.

He had run for half an hour, no, a whole hour. His heart felt like it was going to burst and his legs felt like wooden rods. He could barely move or catch his breath. Finally,

“Ah… choo!”

Aleph let out a great sneeze. His wet clothes were cold and stuck to his skin. He was soaked through with not only the water from the swamp during his fight with the basilisks, but his own sweat. Once he stopped moving he began to realize how cold he was - and that was without the freezing night of the midwinter desert.

Aleph quickly pulled his oil flask out from his leather sack, along with a piece of flint and a torch, relieved when he confirmed that they weren’t too soaked to be used. Water and fire were the next most important things to his own life. That’s why travelers seal up their oil, flint and torches so well when journeying.

After building a fire with some dried twigs he found outside the cave, Aleph began to take in the heat from the flames and deliberately took out his charms, herbs and rations from his sack and started to dry them with a bit of cloth as best he could. Finally, he pulled out his folded map, intending to dry it by the fire.

He gasped. His eyes were drawn to one point on the map.

In the dead-center of the desert to the southeast of Garai, a sigil could be seen. A symbol. A symbol that only revealed itself when the map was wet…