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 and resilience.
Truly a beast worthy of respect.
—Excerpt from The Beasts of the Forgotten Age by Philip the Mad Sage
----+----
Badam..badam..badam.
The sound of a heartbeat beating fast.
Badam..badam..badam.
A rapid, pounding rhythm that echoed through his chest, each beat quicker than the last. The cold air burned his lungs, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Are you going to let it happen again".
Badam..badam..badam.
The sound was intense, almost palpable, reverberating through every fiber of his being. His muscles ached, his limbs trembling. The forest seemed to close in around him.
"Aren't you going to live your life to the fullest without regret".
Badam..badam..badam..badam.
The rhythm was frenzied now, a drumbeat in overdrive, his body's desperate response to fear, to the primal need to... to. His fingers twitched around the handle of his axe, the wood slick with sweat and snowmelt.
"Are you just gonna let him die too"
Badam..badam..badam..badam...badam.
The bear's massive form loomed in his direct vision, its massive paw heading directly for his dog
"Eh?"
Badam...badam..badam
For a moment, Femi felt nothing. No fear, no hesitation, just numbness. Then… something shifted. His left arm held a presence. Small, furry, warm. Its whines cut through the haze, barley bringing him back to reality. His other hand still clutched his axe, its usual weight usually burden for his light frame now felt featherlight, as if the weapon itself had become an extension of his will.
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, every nerve alight with raw energy. Barely aware of victim in his arms, the young creature jerked at the sudden movement, yelping and whining as it pressed 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 gaping wide, teeths sharp and glistening with saliva, aiming to crush his head.
Femi twisted, his body moving on instinct. The axe, still light in his grip, swung in a clumsy, desperate arc. The blade struck the bear's armored shoulder with a deafening..
CLANG!
The impact jarred Femi's arm to the core, numbing his fingers. The axe was torn from his grasp, spinning through the air before vanishing into the snowdrifts.
"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, her body crashing 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.
"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.
ROOOOOAR!
The bear's response was a roar of pure savage malice, it's fury erupting in an outward wave. It raised its massive paws, and swung with terrifying force. Varga, struggling to rise, to help femi watched in shock as...
...Femi vanished.
One moment, he was in front of the bear. The next he was gone.
The bear's claws tore through empty air.
ROOOAR!
I feel...so...free.
The thought flashed through Femi's mind as he found himself airborne, the world spinning beneath him. How did I...?
Then he landed, perfectly balanced, on the bear's shoulder.
"Ah… I warned you, my friend," he murmured, gripping his knife. The blade rising above his head "But you didn't listen."
"Next time…"
The knife plunged it down.
"listen."
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 with him, his legs burning with the effort of trying to lead them away from the monstrosity.
"It's still alive, we can still fight, we must complete the hunt," Varga insisted, trying to pull away, from Femi's hold. But her lack of success, just proved that she was in no condition to continue this fight.
"My friend, speak for yourself. I can't do anything but run right now,"Femi snapped back.
He sighed, trying to calm his nerves
"Look, there's no time. We'll come back with more people later. Next time, we mob it. That's how you fight properly. But now, we run for our dear lives." He said trying to implore her
Behind them, the bear's enraged roars shook the forest. It thrashed and writhed, claws scrabbling at the knife embedded 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 leaned against a thick tree. Her face was pale, her breath coming in sharp, pained bursts. Blood seeped through the gashes on her injured leg, and her broken arm was already swollen, the skin with bruises. She was clearly in pain and exhausted.
"Heaven's have mercy, I am tired," Femi gasped, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.
In their haste to escape, they had plunged deeper into the woods, where the sunlight barely pierced the dense canopy. The air was colder here, the silence oppressive.
"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 anymore," Femi gasped, his vision swimming. He might be seeing things, because the world spun in dizzying 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 weak groan of his own. He really needed to lie down.
Varga's eyes turned to him, studying his unsteady sway. There was something strange in her gaze.
"How did you move like that?" she asked.
"Move... like... what?" Femi barely managed to say, before collapsing onto the snow. His breath came in heavy, uneven bursts.
"Back then, you... You know what, it doesn't matter," she hesitated for a second before sighing and adding, "Thanks, Femi. You're 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's go," she said awkwardly.
"Give me... ten minutes," he mumbled into the snow.
"Yippp, yipp"
Victim, came bolting to Femi's head and began to lick it.
"My friend, behave yourself," Femi muttered, weakly pushing the pup 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.
Gritting her teeth, she applied the paste to her wounds before gesturing for Femi to help bind them. He tied a rag tightly around the deepest gash on her leg, to stop the bleeding on her leg, and then another around her broken arm, securing it against her chest.
"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 gravestone, eh? I think 'The Unfortunate One' would suit me best."