791.II, 6 Berelii : In the Land of the Ryns

791.II, 5 Berelii

This is the journal of Leenaële Latour Jr, and these lines will very probably be the only traces I will be able to leave on this world, since I don't suppose I will live long anymore.

I am a ward of Amaal, orphan adopted in the city's court, and have been a caravaneer for a few years now.

It's been three days since I got lost. I don't have much water, I don't have any food left. I gave my last bite of fanais to my little snail Kamino. I should have left him in trusted hands at home, had I gone back home at some point. My hooma is a brave mount for carrying on despite the drought. We're trapped in this maze of rocks, it seems so immense from the inside.

It all started with a sandstorm. I made a mistake, thought I wouldn't be caught in it. I was not more than a few cords from the rest of the caravan, but I still lost them. It's crazy how much you can deviate from the path once you lose sight of the others. I guess the desert won't be forgiving.

I ended up finding shelter in a rock formation lost in the sand, a large mass of rocky maze, so large in fact that I can't find an exit anymore.

Straying in there, it feels like I'm in a city lost in time. I see ghostly appearances disappearing in the dark streets like the hidden figures of this land's denizen, arches that look like they are moving and squeaking. Maybe it's the sun causing me visions... Oh my god, I think I'm in the territory of the Ryns...

791.II, 7 Berelii

Yesterday was like a dream. Not a pleasant one, more like a nightmare without logic or sense.

The Ryns, these enigmatic creatures live in the centre of this rock labyrinth. They barely ever come out and when they do, it's to have a little snack at things and incidentally cause destruction on their path. Because snacking to them is a frenzy of blood and gore, which they inflict on herds of hoomas or passersby. These powerhouses care for nothing, and nothing stops them.

These giants are like huntsbeasts, but worse. They are larger, much larger. They dwarf my hooma in height, their bodies are covered in thick scales made of pure stone, their huge heads have mouths so large they could swallow a human whole, But they never have to, because these mouths, lined with razor-sharp scales, can cut through anything. I mean Anything. Blimey, they eat rocks for Kal's sake.

Rocks, genuine stone. They just eat it up like we eat chocolate. It is their main food source.

I read the books, but it's another thing to see it in real life.

So yes, I stumbled upon one of them. It was standing on his hind legs (yes, they can do that), not seeing me approaching. As I stopped my mount, he suddenly turned. I had startled it (big mistake), and it tripped flat on the ground.

But it rose back in an instant, growled deeply. This seemed to have angered it. In one movement, it hit my hooma. The shock swept me in the air and I saw my brave mount shake like a rag doll when it hit the rock wall. I landed a short distance further on the cliffside. Hard. It had lasted a second but felt like minutes. The Ryn opened its large hand to close it on my hooma's neck. I heard a crack, one last shiver from the poor beast, and it was over.

It took a bite at my bird's flank, swallowed a big chunk of flesh, then turned towards me.

Terrified, I tried to run, but I felt a sting in my arm. The sting turned into a tremendous pain, burning across my right shoulder. I couldn't flee from the monster in front of me. But it stopped a few crosses from my face.

It faintly hissed, then blew a long blast of air, like a warm hurricane coming out of its nostrils. I passed out.

I woke up by nighttime, the ryn still watching me from up close. It had finished eating the hooma, only the saddle and sacks were left, surprisingly intact.

I painfully rose up, confused. Disoriented, I desperately tried to move the saddle with my left arm. I managed to drag it over a few crosses. The task was impossible. I let go of it, and slowly tried to escape. I walked back to where I came from, shivering in shock, only to collapse after six steps. It took me an hour to rise again.

It was all blurred, but as I kept walking away, I noticed something following me behind. The ryn was slowly walking, one cord behind, and it was dragging my gear with it.

I suddenly remembered about Kamino. My little snail was in the saddle, in his jar. I couldn't leave him behind, he's my family. So I turned around, and slowly approached the Ryn. The monster had stopped, and watched me approach it. It didn't show any intention or shiver of movement, standing like a statue. I got near, reached for the bag on the saddle, got the jar, and stepped back as slowly as I could. The monster hadn't moved a muscle. Only its eye had followed my movements. Now with Kamino safe in my healthy arm, I started to feel better. He was tucked deep in his shell but seemed fine and moist.

I am starting to believe that, despite the carnage I saw earlier, that monster may not wish us any harm. Exhausted by the pain and the aftermath of this event, I decided to rest for a bit, and collapsed quickly.

The next morning, today, I was woken up by a large moving boulder scrubbing at my boot . As I opened my eye, I saw the Ryn. It was softly pushing on my foot with its hand. I got a close view at it, and these hands are the stuff of nightmares. They bear three fingers, rigid and girthy as a tree trunk. They can open 180 degrees, and each finger bears a razor-sharp claw the size of my forearm. When they close in a pincer movement, they interlock like three bladed teeth, crushing and shearing anything in their path.

Slowly, I rose up. I took and put the saddle's bag on my left shoulder, and walked away. After one morning of wandering, and by miracle, I found an exit to this godforsaken labyrinth. I turned, to confirm that the ryn was still following me. It had launched the saddle on its back, I figured it was for practicality, since dragging it on the ground all morning would have been annoying. Why did it decide to take that saddle with it? I cannot say...

As the sun is starting to set behind the dunes, I've scaled a little rocky outcrop to find a flat bivouac area. I’ll try to get some rest, a bit of sleep. Maybe my escort won’t change its mind and turn me into its snack. I'm at its mercy.

791.II, 8 Berelii

Yesterday, even after reaching the end of the rocky maze, I still didn't hope of making it much further. I had no water, an arm in pieces, and was creepily followed by one of the deadliest creatures on this world. One would say I was a mess.

Yet it seems death will not claim me quite as soon as I first thought. In spite of all odds, by miracle, I was found by the caravan this morning. My companions had been looking for me in the area ever since the sandstorm, they had left the other teams to their uncaring route. When I finally made contact with them, and they saw the ryn trailing behind, kalsh their baffled faces made me burst out in uncontrollable laughter (though it was painful to laugh honestly...).

Berthon immobilized my wounded arm, gave me and Kamino some much needed water. He kept glancing anxiously at the monster of rocks and teeth sat not far behind.

Now I am resting in a cart -Lucky me- for the rest of the trip. We're still far from Amaal, but I already feel like I'm home .

And still the Ryn follows.

"I know this here logbook is supposed to contain only the caravan logistics and preparations, but where else could I have left these words? At the time, it seemed the only thing I could hang on to, written word of my last few moments on this savage world. "

Leen Latour