The true origins of the Ebi Tara Buru, or the iron-clad bear, remain a subject of fierce debate among scholars and historians of this age. Though much has been lost to time, two dominant theories have emerged, the Evolution School and the Devolution School, each offering its own interpretation of this formidable creature's past.
Proponents of this theory argue that the iron-clad bear was once an ordinary species of bear that thrived during the Age of the War of the Gods, when the world was saturated with Kuros, the primordial energy of the world. Under the relentless pressures of divine conflict, these bears developed an innate metallic hide, a natural armor forged through necessity. Their bodies, steeped in the chaotic energies of the era, adapted to become living fortresses, unyielding, relentless, and nearly impervious to harm.
In stark contrast, the Devolutionists claim that the Ebi Tara Buru is not an ascended beast, but a fallen one. They trace its lineage back to the Arkoudoforos Panoplia, or the Armor-Bearing Bears, a race of sentient, anthropomorphic bears whose civilization flourished before collapsing during the War of the Gods.
The Arkoudoforos Panoplia were no mere beasts. They stood upright, possessed opposable thumbs, and were masters of metallurgy, crafting intricate armor that fused seamlessly with their bodies. Historical fragments suggest they were wise, eloquent, and nearly impossible to deceive, their society built on principles of strength and cunning.
The Devolutionists argue that as their civilization crumbled, the Arkoudoforos Panoplia regressed, their intelligence fading over generations. Their once-crafted armor became part of their flesh, a permanent shell inherited by their descendants, the Ebi Tara Buru. What was once a mark of civilization became a beast's natural defense.
Though the scholars remain divided, one truth is undisputed: the Ebi Tara Buru is a terror of the wilds, a relic of a forgotten age. Whether it rose from common stock or fell from a greater legacy, none can deny its power, resilience.
Truly a beast worthy of respect.
—Excerpt from The Beasts of the Forgotten Age by Philip the Mad Sage
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Badam..badam..badam.
The sound of a heartbeat beating fast.
Badam..badam..badam.
A rapid, pounding rhythm that echoes through the chest, with each beat coming quicker than the last.
"Are you going to let it happen again".
Badam..badam..badam.
The sound is intense, almost palpable, as if it's pulsing through every fiber of the body.
"Aren't you going to live your life to the fullest without regret".
Badam..badam..badam..badam.
The rhythm is frenzied, like a drumbeat in overdrive, reflecting the body's response to stress, excitement, and fear.
"Are you just gonna let him die too"
Badam..badam..badam..badam...badam.
The faster the beat, the more urgent the sound becomes, like a ticking time bomb waiting to unleash its energy.
"eh"
Badam...badam..badam
For a moment, Femi felt nothing. Then... Something just appeared in his arm. It was small, furry, and warm, which was a stark contrast to the biting cold. His other arm still clutched his axe, its usual weight, usually a burden for his short frame, now felt featherlight.
BOOM!
The bear's massive paws slammed into the earth, shaking the ground. Snow erupted in a violent explosion, the force enough to shatter bone.
Yet, to its surprise, its prey wasn't crushed.
Femi couldn't hear anything but his heartbeat, its rhythm wild, as if it wanted to burst from his chest and dance alingo. His body vibrated with adrenaline. Barely aware of victim in his arms, the young pup jerked at the sudden movement, yelping and whining as it cried into his side.
Femi couldn't feel the pup. He couldn't feel anything. A deep exhaustion weighed on him, leaving him drained, until something cut through the numbness.
Raw fury.
It reached him like a shockwave. He turned his head.
The armored bear was coming.
It lunged, jaws snapping shut with a sound like cracking stone, aiming to crush his head.
Femi twisted, the axe still feeling free in his hands, was swung with one-handed. No thought was needed he just went with a clumsy, fast blow. The axe-head slammed into the Bear's armored shoulder.
CLANG!
The impact jarred Femi's arm to the shoulder, numbing his fingers. The axe was sent flying from his clawed hands.
"Na wa"
As Fermi regained his footing from the clash, the bear charged again, but his body moved in slow motion. Everything felt sluggish, his strength sapped. Before the bear could strike, another axe slammed into its side.
Clang!
The metallic echo declared Varga's intervention as she roared, swinging her weapon with desperate force. But she, too, was weakened; the blow barely staggered the beast. Without even looking, the bear swiped back. Varga barely raised her axe in time to block, but the impact sent her flying into the snow with a heavy thud.
Yet, that moment was all Femi needed. He staggered back, putting distance between himself and the enraged creature, and drew his knife. His voice was ragged but firm.
"Brother Bear, calm down. Stop now… or someone's going to die."
Exhaustion clouded his mind, he could barely think, but for some reason, either because of his exhaustion or just total lack of care anymore. He couldn't just tolerate this creature.
Its fury erupting in a wave of savage malice. It raised its massive paws and swung with terrifying force. Varga, struggling to rise, watched in shock as...
...Femi vanished.
A moment Femi was in front of the bear, his next he was gone.
The bear's claws tore through empty air.
ROOOAR!
I'm so free.
The thought flashed through Femi's mind as he found himself airborne. How did I...?
Then he landed, perfectly balanced, on the bear's shoulder.
"Ah… I warned you, my friend," he murmured, gripping his knife. "But you didn't listen."
The blade gleamed.
"Next time… listen."
And he plunged it down.
ROOOOOAR!
The bear's agonized scream split the air as it bucked wildly, flinging Femi off its shoulders. He hit the snow with a grunt, pain flaring through his ribs.
"Varga...RUN!"
Femi scrambled to his feet and lunged into a sprint. He knew that his knife couldn't possibly kill the bear, but the blade buried in its eye bought them time, precious, fleeting time.
Varga was already up, swaying but standing, her working fist clenched and teeth bared. She wasn't retreating. She was waiting, as if she still meant to fight.
Femi's patience snapped.
"My friend, if you don't turn your stubborn face and run right now, I swear I'll beat you with a stick!" he snarled, his voice raw with exhaustion.
What kind of stubborn girl is this.
Every muscle screamed in protest, but terror and fury pushed him forward. Move. Move or die. Beside him, Victim darted through the snow, yipping in panic. Femi didn't look back, he just prayed the pup kept up.
He reached Varga, hooked an arm around her waist, and dragged her against him, trying to lead them away from the monstrosity.
"Its still alive, we can still fight, we must complete the hunt". Varga said trying to get away from femi hold, but her lack of success just proved that she was in no condition to fight.
"My friend speak for your self I can't do anything, but run right now". Femi snape back
He sighed, trying to calm his nerves
"Look, there is no time, we'll come back with more people later. Next time, we mob it. That's how you fight properly. But now? Now we run for our dear lives." He tried to implore her.
Behind them, the bear's enraged roars shook the air. It thrashed and writhed, its claws scrabbling at the knife buried in its eye, blood and snow spraying in violent arcs.
"Now, Varga!"
With a final, furious glance, she relented, and together, they ran.
----
They both ran through the woods as fast as their injured, tired bodies could go. Fear and pure survival instinct driving him forward. Femi had no illusions about what would happen if the creature managed to get a hold of them with its long claws.
Soon, the sound of roars and shaking trees grew distanced. Femi risked a glance backwards and he couldn't see the bear due to all the trees.
Thankfully, it seems my ancestors have not forsaken me.
They, came to a stop after a while and Varga came to a stop and leaned against a tree. She was clearly in pain and exhausted. Blood leaked through gashes on her injured leg and broken arm was already swollen.
"Heaven's have mercy, I am tired,"he gasped.
In their haste to escape the Krag and ratling had run into the deeper part of the woods away from the sunlight.
"Cursed bear," varga growled between two heavy breaths as she rested.
Femi was too exhausted to curse anyone, even varga whom he silently blames for this whole nonsense. He was pretty sure they wouldn't have dealt with such danger if not for her need to blow of steam.
"Are we safe now? Because I can't run any more" Femi gasped, he thought he might be seeing things now, because of the exhaustion every thing spun around in circles.
"We should be, they don't like to move too far from their territories," varga groaned, probably from the pain.
Femi, let out a groan too, he really needed to lie down.
Varga eyes turned to femi, who was swaying unsteadily on his feet, he seemed truly exhausted. She had a strange look in her eyes.
"How did you move like that," Varga asked him.
"Move...like.. what," Blacknail barely replied, as he began to lie down on the snow, his breath heavy.
"Back then you... you know what, it doesn't matter" she hesitated for a second before sighing and adding "Thanks Femi. You are a reliable partner."
Caught by surprise, Femi just grunted. It was very rare for varga to, say anything good about him, other than the occasional 'good job' before. She was probably guilty for nearly leading us to our deaths.
"We need to head back. Let go," she told the ratling awkwardly.
"Give me, ten minutes," he said, still on the cold snow.
"Yippp, yipp"
Victim, came bolting to Femi's head and began to lick it.
"My friend behave yourself" Femi said while trying to drive him away him away. But it was to no avail.
Varga crouched down and went through her pouches until she found one that contained some strong herbal smelling paste and another that contained some clean rags.
Varga then took out a rag and apply the paste to her wounds using the cloth. Finally she asked femi to help her tie one rag tightly around the largest cut to stop the bleeding on her leg, and then use another one to tie her arm up to her chest to support it and prevent it from moving.
"That will do. Let's go," varga grunted as Femi finished.
Femi rose to his feet and the two of them began the long walk back to the camp. Varga was wounded but could still walk without too much difficulty. Femi decided to take the lead, since she couldn't.
He took point and began to lead them home. If they both survived he was sure to have earned new clothes, finally close to get his designers. Unfortunately, a scent suddenly caught his attention. He titled his head back and sniffed the air.
At first he smelled nothing out of the ordinary, but after a moment a scent he found familiar filled his nose. He stopped.
He scanned the ground and brush around him for the source of the smell. His heart started pounding as he searched. He saw a lot of frozen roots, fallen logs, and small bushes, but no obvious threats.
"What is it?" varga asked with caution.
"Well, my dear varga, it seems we have jumped from the boiling pot and into fire."
Immediately, Femi finished saying that the bush erupted with shouts. They were surrounded.
He was in no shape for another fight and he knew it. So femi sat down, contemplating his lot in life.
"Goblins," varga answered quietly
"What do you want them to write on your grave stone, eh varga I think, the unfortunate one would suit me best."