Slaves of Lizardmen

The air was thick and hot as spiced honey, the sounds of the jungle ringing out through the dense, wide leaves that coated the forest floor. Above, the canopy nearly smothering the sun, birds singing in a chirping symphony, insects buzzing between the trees.

One of the wide leaves was pushed aside, a woman stepping through. A human woman with pale skin and short black hair, lithe and slightly short, blue eyes sparkling with determination as she searched the woods in obvious purpose. She carried the air of an adventurer, an air made even more obvious her clothes, black boots rising up to her knees, tan pants fitting into them and lined with pockets, and a loose-fitting shirt wrapped with a cloak, pouches lining her belt.

Nefia Rassurn's tread through the jungle wasn't just for sport or wanderlust; she had a target in mind, and she would not leave these woods until she had it.

"Where are you...?" she whispered, pushing yet another leaf aside. She stopped in a small clearing, hands on her hips as she scanned the forest around her.

No sign of her quarry. With a grunt, she looked up at the sky, squinting at the sky just barely shining through. From what she could tell, it was noon, the sun casting down its heat in full fury on the dense rainforest below. She was pretty sure the ocean nearby was less wet than the air she was walking through; already the fabric was beginning to stick to her skin, and she could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

Reaching into one of her pockets, she took out a compass, poking it as the needle inside spun around. After a moment, it teetered to north, and she turned around, going back the way she came. She'd only meant to make a short excursion into the forest, she'd left in the morning, when it was still only warm, and the heat was beginning to get to her. She'd have to end it for today and come back tomorrow.

Stepping back through the leaves, she trod on the path she'd made through the jungle, vaguely remembering the trees and colorful flowers she'd passed on the way there. And then, pushing another large leaf aside, she froze. Ahead of her was a large red flower, its petal splayed out like the rays of a sun. And on top of it, a small yellow bird drinking from the nectar inside, its feathers pulsing with warm, yellow light.

A lampbird. A very, very rare avian of the dark continent that was the target of her university's expedition, and the target of her own foray into the woods. With magical feathers that could glow for years, it was an animal only known from descriptions; its image never truly captured.

She'd be the first. She caught her breath, bending her knees down in a crouch, hands going to her belt. From it she slowly took out a small sketchbook and a stick of charcoal, bringing it to the page as she kept her gaze on the bird. She began to sketch its likeness, filling out vague shapes at first, her breaths low and quiet to avoid spooking the creature as it dipped its beak into the flower's nectar, raised its head to inspect its surroundings, then repeat. If she could be the first one to bring back the sketch of a lampbird, maybe then her university would-

Just as she'd finished the general shape of the bird, a loud, distant horn bellowed through the forest. The bird's head sprang up from the flower and it took off in a flutter. She ran after it, her boot catching on a root on the first step. She planted on the ground face-first and recovered just quickly enough to see it retreating into the inner wilds of the woods. She weakly reached up a hand in its direction, then lowered it in defeat.

Rising and dusting herself off, she brought up her sketchbook to see what she'd managed. Hardly even a doodle; she could've been drawing a chicken for all the detail there was.

"Godsdamnit," she cursed, kicking dark soil underneath her boot.

With a sigh, she tucked the sketchbook back onto her belt and put away her charcoal stick, walking forward out of the forest. It wasn't long before she reached the point where the thick bush began to thin, then stopped a distance ahead. She stepped beyond it, putting the forest behind her. As she did, the smell of saltwater and the rolling of waves washed over her, another horn blasting. Now much closer, much louder.

A wooden ship, floating just off the beach next to a large boulder that served as its harbor.

The ship she'd arrived on. The Immortal, the ship leased by her university, and her home for the last year. Near the beach, a small camp had begun to grow in the shadow of the forest, people milling around between the tents. The expedition she'd talked herself into being a part of, a collection of naturalists and scientists sent by the University of Natural Inquiry, meant to explore the continent and its mysteries. Meant. For a year, the "scientists" of the expedition seemed to have little interest in actually doing any research, content more to drink and shoot the local wildlife for trophies. More a hunting expedition than one to advance the cause of knowledge, most of the time Nefia felt like she was the only one interested in actually learning about this mysterious continent.

Iztaci. Not too long ago, only a rumor, until the trade routes began to expand and tales of wonders began to capture the public's imagination. A fact that only deepened her frustration, her fellow members of the expedition were wasting an opportunity of a lifetime treating the whole thing like a glorified vacation! Well, she thought, at least she'd have something to show for it when they got back. She'd just have to make sure none of them took her credit; the world of academia in the empire was as cutthroat as it was boring.

With a deep sigh, she walked up to the campsite, her brow still furrowed from her recent missed opportunity. Moving into the center of the loose circle of tents that surrounded the camp's central fire, she walked up to one of her fellow members of the expedition. A thin man with sharp features and a thin goatee, clad in noble finery, a gold chain hanging from one of his pockets. His attention was fixated downward to the ornate crossbow in his hands, his eyes wandering over it in careful scrutiny.

The leader of their expedition, Dr. Thurn. The leader by virtue of being only slightly more responsible than the rest, he still seemed to care more about hunting than studying and was no doubt making sure his crossbow was up to the task next time he felt like he needed a new trophy. Only when she was right above him did he notice her. He looked up, stopping his attentions on his weapon and smiling.

"Ah," he beamed, "Adjunct Rassurn!"

"Professor Thurn," Nefia mumbled.

He frowned. "You look down, dear. Is something the matter?"

"You could say that. Why are they blowing the horn when we're docked?"

He shrugged. "Just making sure it works, dear. It's important we don't discover problems out at sea, hm?"

"Well, could you not blow it when we're exploring? I just saw a lampbird, and was almost able to draw it before the ship scared it off."

"A lampbird?" he said, cocking a brow. After a moment, realization hit his face. "Ah! Yes, the lampbird. Glowing little thing, yes?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She took out her sketchbook, showing the sketch she'd been unable to complete. "I got this far before it flew off."

He looked at the drawing, and nodded. "Yes, well, I suppose that would be frustrating. I'll tell the helmsmen to hold off when we're out in the thicket. Besides," he added, looking down the sights of his crossbow, "I'd rather not scare away game. I think a specimen of a lampbird would be far better than a drawing, don't you agree?"

She imagined ripping the crossbow from his hands and clunking him in the head with it. But instead she just smiled insincerely, teeth showing in a false grin. "Of course, professor!" she muttered.

"Indeed! Speaking of, me and the boys were actually considering a foray into the woods ourselves to collect some specimens. Don't suppose I could persuade you to join us?"

She shook her head. If it was the entire group, they'd make so much noise that they'd scare off anything within ten miles. "No thank you, professor," she sighed. "I think I'm going to get out of the sun."

"Ah, and there I envy you," he replied with a smile. "This heat is sweltering."

The first correct thing she'd heard him say in weeks. With nothing else to say, he looked back down to the crossbow, strumming its string to test it.

Nefia walked past him, making her way over to the small tent that was her own. Pulling aside the flap, she stepped into the dark interior, and laid herself on her cot. She turned her head, looking to the drawings she'd attached to the side. Drawings of Iztaci insects, bigs as cats, of birds with brilliant plumage, and the drawings of more mundane animals from back home.

She was an artist, a drawer of nature. But her talents were seldom appreciated, noble patrons more interested in in vain portraits of themselves than sketchings of the natural world. It was the expedition she'd pinned her hopes on; with so many sketches and notes, she'd be able to put together a book, and then she'd have her audience. But most of the creatures she'd drawn were already known; the slasherbug, the roamersong, the biigubu. She needed something rare; something nobody had ever seen. She needed that lampbird.

Nefia doubled her resolve. She'd head out first thing in the morning when none of the others were terrorizing the forest. With the gods as her witness, she would get that drawing.

But for now, the stuffy heat of her tent slowly drove her to exhaustion, and her eyes grew heavy. Before she knew it, she'd drifted off to sleep.

Halfway through the night, she woke up to the sound of partying. With a grunt, she rolled over from her cot and poked her head out of the tent. There, Dr. Thurn and most of the rest of the expedition were laughing as they skinned what appeared to be a giant snake skewered with crossbow bolts.

She rolled her eyes and retreated into her tent, returning to her rest. When she woke up again, the camp was quiet, the warmth of the night rising into the heat of the day. She rose from her cot, yawning, and poked her head outside the tent once more. It was still dark, but the blue tint of the sky made it apparent that soon the sun would peek over the horizon.

Her eyes drifting to the camp, she saw most of the members splayed out on the ground, empty bottles surrounding them. She looked to the treeline, then back to the camp, and a thought struck her. The lampbird glowed. If she hurried, the darkness of the morning might help her find it in the brush.

She pushed herself out of the tent, tiptoeing over drunk and snoring academics as she crept towards the trees. But as she did, she froze. The early morning might aid her search for the bird, but the darkness carried many dangers. She had a sword, but...

Nefia looked down, catching sight of Professor Thurn, his crossbow clutched in his arms like a lover. She reached down, taking it from his grasp. She was just borrowing it, she told herself. Couldn't be too careful, after all.

Looking down the sights, she judged it fit for the job, and with it, marched into the jungle.

Pushing herself through dark leaves, she searched for her prize with steely determination. Around her, the flickering lights of fireflies, lightning up in pulses, their final dance before the sun rose and sent them away.

But fireflies, she was not interested in. She had only one goal in mind, and she wasn't leaving the forest until she had it.

Then, she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, a glowing shape with outstretched wings. She swiftly turned just to see the white underbelly of a lampbird fly over her head, and her heart soared as it flapped its wings in the air, slowing itself down to land on a branch above her.

She couldn't believe how lucky she was. She crouched down, setting down her crossbow as she reached for her sketchbook and her trusty stick of charcoal. Just as she did, the lampbird took off again, deeper into the forest. But in the darkness, she could still see its glow. She picked up her crossbow, following the bird in a quick walk. She had to be close enough to catch its details, but also not scare it off. When the light ahead stopped, she found it once again perched on another branch. Again she reached for her sketchbook before it flew off again, even deeper.

With a frustrated groan, she followed it again, the cycle repeating several more times. She felt like the bird was taunting her. Before too long, she began to hear the sound of rushing water, roaring in the distance as she came under the lampbird once more. This time, she reached for her journal even more slowly, but again something spooked the lampbird and it flew off ahead, chirping in singsong warble.

"Oh come on!" she groaned, and chased after it.

A twig snapped behind her. She spun around, pointing the crossbow into the trees.

Nothing. Probably an animal running from her. She turned back around, running in the direction she'd last seen the elusive glowing bird. As she did, the distant sound of water became louder and louder, and when she caught sight of the glow again, it was beyond the trees. They stopped ahead, suddenly ending as they did near the camp. When she broke free of them, she saw why.

Ahead, cutting through the bare rock, was a waterfall, water crashing down in a torrent. And right in front of it, a single solitary tree sticking out from the rock, the lampbird perched on one of its thin branches.

"Okay you glowing chicken," she breathed, "I'm going to draw you. And if you move..."

The bird didn't move, simply sitting in place, staring out as it sang a small tune.

Nefia went to work, flipping to the drawing she'd started, and crept closer. When she was close enough to catch every detail, she began to trace it, filling out the wings, beak, breast, and claws. Her heart raced as the bird began to appear on her page, and after a dozen agonizing minutes, she was through.

Her heart soared, and with a wide grin, she pointed to the bird. "Haha!" she declared in a triumph. "Got you!"

Her declaration spooked the bird, and it took off in a flurry.

"That's right!" she whooped. "Get out of here! You know what you did!"

The bird dove down, disappearing into the mist of the waterfall. When it was gone from sight, she chuckled, again looking down in the art she'd drawn. A perfect sketch, every detail rendered in loving detail. No doubt every publisher in the empire would pay for a drawing of an animal like this.

If she could find a publisher.

She clasped the sketchbook shut. That she'd deal with when she got home.

Looking up, she took a moment to admire the scenery in front of her. The spray from the waterfall was sparkling in the light of the midday sun, and above it, the dim glow of a waterfall was beginning to appear over it. Behind it, dense formations of greenery, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was rather beautiful here, she thought. If it wasn't for her work, she'd entertain thoughts about being persuaded to stay. It wasn't as if she had anything back home, save hopes as an author and artist.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. No, she couldn't stay. There were no settlements on Iztaci, not even trading ports. Utterly unspoiled and untamed, it would be centuries, millennia before the towns of people could even hope to appear over its forests. With a wistful sigh, she turned around, looking into the treeline. She'd gone pretty far, much further than her previous short journeys into the jungle.

She'd need some help getting back. She reached into her pocket, searching for her compass.

It wasn't there.

She looked down, pulling the pocket open to see only space. Her heart sank, and she began to pat herself down, searching all over.

"Compass," she whispered. "Where's the compass?"

After more searching, her hand clasped over something round and metal in her pouch, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she took it out. But when she did, her groaned in frustration. It wasn't her compass, only her pocketwatch, still ticking.

She stuffed it back and kept looking. But it was in vain. As she double and triple-checked her pats slowed as a memory returned to her.

Yesterday. When she's seen the other lampbird. She'd tripped when she ran after it, and the compass must have fallen out of her pocket.

"Oh no," she croaked.

She stopped searching, her arms going to her side. "Well," she breathed, "guess it's dead reckoning."

She picked up her crossbow and headed into the trees.

Almost immediately, she regretted her loss of the device. She had no way of even making her way back to where she'd dropped it, much less back to camp, and before too long, she already knew she was in another part of the woods altogether. By now the sun was starting to rise high in the sky, lights pouring in columns from above.

"Damn it!" she spat as she rounded another tree, "I did not come all the way out here just to die here!" When she entered a clearing, she took a moment to look around, finding every rock and flower and tree unfamiliar. "This is not good."

A branch snapped behind her. She spun around, leveling her crossbow.

"Not good at all."

Scanning the area around her, her pulse quickened as the feeling of being watched suddenly crept over her. With an unsteady breath, she slowly backed away from the clearing, turning with her crossbow at the ready to shoot whatever wildlife was tailing her.

Nothing but empty forest.

She relaxed a little, a small part of her wondering if she'd scared whatever was falling her off.

Whump.

Something heavy landed behind her, and she spun back around. When she did, her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. Sharp claws. Blue scales. White horns. A head like the mix of a crocodile and a snake's, and digitigrade legs ending in talons. Taller than most men, it lowered over her, staring her down with yellow, serpentine eyes that betrayed a fierce intelligence and cunning.

A lizardman. She thought they were a myth. Stories about fierce reptilian warriors that would appear in the night and cart off people, never to be seen again.

A lizardman. She could hardly believe it, the beast standing over her, its garb as strange and foreign as its appearance. Gold jewelry banded its arms and legs, a loincloth covering its waist, the fabric flowing from a golden buckle. In one hand, a smooth black knife of obsidian, strange glowing runes carved into the blade, the hilt banded in ornamented silver.

She blinked. The creature just stood there, as if waiting on her. When the reality of her situation kicked in, she panicked and suddenly raised her crossbow, leveling the weapon at the creature's head.

Before she could pull the trigger, the lizardman snatched it out of her hands with its free claw. In a single squeeze, the creature cracked the crossbow to splinters, the body breaking in two and clattering to the ground in wooden pieces.

She scrambled back, reaching for her sword. With a scrape, she brandished it against the creature, pointing the blade towards them threateningly.

"Hey!" she called out as the creature began to advance on her, "hold on!"

The lizardman made a low hiss, and she jostled the blade towards them.

"I said hold on!" she cried. "I didn't mean to point that bow at you!"

Desperation crept into her voice. She'd meant what she said; even through the panic, this run-in was far greater than any lousy glowing bird. But she had to defuse the situation first, and she couldn't be sure if the lizardman had ill intentions. If it did, and with the way it cracked the crossbow in two like a toy, her sword would be her last line of defense.

As the lizardman stomped towards her, she finally ceased her retreat, digging her heels into the ground. "Hey!" she called out, "I don't want to hurt you! We can talk about this."