♜ Unexpected Encounter ♜

Outside of Capital Crocus, just a few days travel west, lies the Phoenix Mountains. Full of rugged peaks that touch the sky and deep, lush valleys, the range is quite a sight to behold. In the summers, the amount of green vegetation and colorful wildflowers attracts people from all around Fiore. In the winters, however, the terrain belongs to the cold clutches of vicious snowstorms and the creatures who struggle to survive them.

Luckily for Dagda, it was summertime. The titan was currently seated upon the edge of a cliff deep in the heart of the Phoenix Mountains. Booted feet dangled over the abyss-like canyon below. Occasionally they would kick into motion, swinging through the air. Where others’ hearts may have been set alight by such a risky perch, the Marmor was unbothered. He didn’t fear heights. The cool mountain breezes in such an open, beautiful place took his breath away as well as his caution.

Dagda lay back a soft cushion of mountain grasses seemed to reach around him in a comforting hold. Far above, clouds danced slowly in the skies, their puffy tops like oddly shaped mushrooms. This was heaven on earth, or maybe Earthland. Since his arrival from Tetsukazu, the giant man hadn’t seen a place that reminded him of his home. Bits here and there had been close, but nothing related exactly to the high mountain slopes in the highlands of Tetsukazu. Finally he had found a place that eased his homesickness by a significant amount. Or, perhaps it would make him even more homesick when he left these regal hills. There was no time to think about it too deeply. The fresh mountain air cleared his mind with each step he had taken up here. There were no worries up here, no strife, no problems. It was just him and nature. Nothing else in his life had the same effect.

Upon direction of some Crocus locals, he had set out for the Phoenix Mountains just a few days earlier. The trek had been long and tedious. Along the road he’d had to avoid some bandits - not that he had anything valuable to steal except his metal arm. Still, there was no reason to get into squabbles. Every day the mountains rose close in the distance. The sky-piercing peaks gave him the determination to continue on. Bustling cities didn’t help him focus on what his plan for the future was.

The climb had given him time to relax and ponder his options a bit. He was stuck here with no clear way home. The Mizi had sent him through a portal opening of some sort that had sent him tumbling through a wormhole for an unknown amount of time. There was no telling how far away he was from home. All the information he had learned about Earthland so far was from Percy Dagger, who had saved his life and fixed him with a new arm, Danny and his family, who he had met briefly at a winter festival, and Lili Kadokawa, a Rune Knight he had married in a fake wedding. There had been short conversations with others here and there, but those were the ones he had spent the longest time with. It was hard to be approachable when he was six feet and eight inches tall.

With all he had learned, Dagda knew that he may be the first Marmor to visit Earthland. That gave him very little to work with in his quest to learn more about the Mizi and return home. During his hiking, the titan decided to continue doing more research and bide his time until a lead came up or an opportunity to make progress in his journey. With his mind settled, he let it wander like the various deer he had seen among the foothills.

Dagda laid on that cliff edge for hours, letting the world move around him. He felt peaceful for the first time in a while. A storm passed a nearby valley, its great sheets of rain sweeping from slope to slope before moving on. The titan lay unbothered. Squirrels and birds chattered and sang, filling the space with ambient noise. Everything here was as it was supposed to be.

Until it wasn’t. All at once, the sounds of creatures around the cliff ceased. The stark silence was only broken by the warning cry of a raven as it swooped down the canyon. Dagda sat up from his place among the soft grass and wildflowers. He was on high alert, looking around the little meadow atop the cliff with a scrutinous eye. As a hunter, he knew what silence meant. There was something out there in the trees, something that was a threat, unusual, or sick.

A sound reached his ears. Was that… hoofbeats? It drew closer, scaring birds from their quiet perches. Squirrels chattered angry threats as it passed. Dagda had just turned to the location of the noise when a blur of white fur charged from the trees. Six large hooves kicked up dirt behind it. The creature skidded to a halt just yards from the Marmor.

Dagda jumped to his feet. Dark brown eyes stared at the white mass in awe. “How?...” he breathed to himself. The creature was one that was familiar to him, a native of the mountainous slopes of Tetsukazu. It was known as a Hexagoat, similar in appearance to that of Earthland mountain goats. However, Hexagoats had many features that set them apart, namely the fact that they had six muscular legs. These limbs allowed them for expert navigation of rugged terrain and strength that well exceeded that of a horse. Coarse white fur covers their tall but stocky bodies, including a long beard that lined their jaw like with many other goat species. All Hexagoats had large horns that curled from their brow back around near their ears. Females, however, had an extra set of smaller horns that sprouted just in front of their curled ones.

This Hexagoat appeared to be a male from the lack of extra horns. He stood about six feet tall at the shoulder. His fur and beard were scruffy and unkempt, filled with dirt and burrs. The whites of his eyes showed, though they weren’t exactly white. Stress, fear, or anger were likely causes for his eyes to be so red and wide. Dagda took a step away from the edge of the cliff, trying to get a better look. The goat snorted and turned a piercing eye to the Marmor. It was pissed, and he was the target. Without hesitation it charged, lowering its horns with intent to butt the stone titan right off the edge of the cliff.

Dagda waited a moment before leaping to the side, effectively dodging the furious beast. He rolled and righted himself just in time to miss another charge. The titan swore under his breath. The agility of Hexagoats had slipped his memory until now. They were wiley creatures, not to be trifled with by anyone who couldn’t handle them.

Once more he dodged, catching the edge of a horn to his bicep. There was no time to harden his skin to stone, so Dagda just took the hit with a grunt. It was at that moment that he realized the source of the Hexagoat’s fury. Attached by just a few straps was the remnants of a Marmor saddle. The tough leather pieces were tattered but still holding strong and digging into the fur and flesh of the goat. The pain had caused it to go wild, attacking anything and everything it could. Unbeknownst to Dagda, the creature had savagely attacked a bear just the day before, downing the predator in a few strikes and trampling it to mush.

Dagda was so startled to see a piece of Marmor craftsmanship that he lost his focus. The goat subsequently headbutted him right in the back and launched him straight into the trees. Branches and foliage tore away from the brunt of his body. Dagda came to a stop against a tree just a few yards from the edge of the meadow. One stumbling step and he was on his feet again, preparing for the next attack. He had to think quickly. Getting the old saddle off the poor beast was his priority right now. That and surviving.

Crashing bushes signaled the Hexagoat’s pursuit. Dagda took the long way around and returned back to the meadow above the cliff. It would be easier for him to maneuver in wider spaces. Flesh transformed into stone as Dagda changed the fingers of his left hand into stone hooks mid step. The hooks had a sharp interior edge intended to slice the leather straps without injuring the goat. If he could free it, maybe the beast would come to realize that he wasn’t an enemy. Typically, they were fairly intelligent creatures. This one had been driven to become a mad brute from pain.

Dagda turned on his heel and stepped to the right of the goat, which had been right behind him. Holding out his left hand, he intended to hook the side strap of the saddle, but missed. Cursing under his breath, the Marmor continued to dodge attacks as best he could while waiting for another opportunity. Another time the curled horn scraped him on its way by, but this time it rebounded off of his metal arm, throwing the Hexagoat off balance.

There! An opening appeared. Dagda dived towards the raging beast, managing to hook the strap with his blue slate fingers. Sharpened stone cut easily through the aged leather, releasing the tension with a snap. The sound caused the Hexagoat to panic and kick out. Unfortunately, Dagda was a little too close. The hoof caught him right in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. Grunting, he scrambled to get to his feet and out of the path of another stampede. He had one strap left: the one that went around the beast’s torso. Somehow he would have to get it on the ground or get underneath it. Dagda grimaced at the danger of this task. A Hexagoat could kill a Marmor - not without some effort of course.

The two continued to dance around the meadow, Dagda avoiding most attacks while the goat only grew more frustrated. There were no openings for the underside strap. Six legs were a lot to get around without getting trampled. At last, Dagda decided to use the forest to his advantage. He led the goat towards the woods once again at a full sprint. Nearing the trees, he picked one. The titan darted around the side of the trunk at the last second. With no time to change course, the Hexagoat rammed into the wood straight on. Dagda had picked a narrow enough tree that the curled horns got stuck around the trunk. He had to move quickly if he was going to nail the execution of this strike.

Reaching around the side of the tree, the Marmor attempted to catch the leather underneath his sharp finger-hooks. The goat was struggling frantically to free itself from the tree. Its bucking and wiggling didn’t allow for a clear shot. Dagda was growing frustrated. Enough of this cat and mouse game. The method of no contact was going on the back burner. He was going to take his into his own hands, literally.

Remembering an old wrangling strategy from his childhood, Dagda grabbed on to the curly horns and shoved them away from the tree, freeing the goat. Turning so he was parallel with the beast and attempting to avoid the hooves, he called on his Leviathan strength. Gold runes flowed down his left arm. Beneath them, like the flowing of paint, his left arm turned to pure blue slate. The top of his right arm turned to stone too, but his metal arm remained.

With a loud cry, Dagda gripped the horn with all his might. He kneeled and used his shoulder and strength to flip the massive goat clear over his back diagonally like it was a ragdoll. The creature hit the ground with a thunderous thud that shook the trees. Quickly the titan pinned the Hexagoat to the ground. The metal hand held the curled horn at an angle that allowed for very little head and neck movement. His knee pinned as many legs down as he could at one time. The stone-clawed hand reached down and sawed away at the thick leather torso strap, growing serrated edges to hurry the process along.

The goat attempted to struggle and buck, but was having issues fighting the sheer weight and fortitude of the stone titan. The Leviathan magic increased his physical strength by a significant amount. “Stop that,” Dagda scolded between panting breaths. “I’m just trying to help you.” At last the strap broke in two. The saddle sagged off of the Hexagoat’s back, revealing matted, sweaty fur and a few bald patches that had been rubbed raw. The sight of flesh didn’t bother Dagda as much as it concerned him. It was no wonder this thing was so incredibly distressed. Beneath him, the creature’s massive body seemed to sigh in relief. The struggling ceased, save for the occasional wiggle.

Dagda sat back on his knees, being careful that the goat couldn’t move. “Now, are you gonna cooperate or am I gonna have to wrangle you again?” The creature’s reddish-brown eye stared at him in silence. Its wits were returning now that the direct source of its pain was removed. Of course, the places where the straps and saddle had caused agony were still open wounds. If the goat would trust him, Dagda would gladly clean and dress its lesions.

For nearly a half hour, stone man and beast sat in silence. The Hexagoat was relaxing, Dagda could feel the tension leave the muscly legs under his own. At last, when his legs were cramping a bit, he stood and backed off from the goat quickly. It took a moment to lift its head and stare at him, then slowly returned to its knees, then its feet. Brown eyes met red-brown ones as the two faced off. Dagda was entirely prepared to run from the beast again. Getting headbutted once more wasn’t really on his to-do list.

He kept his ground as the creature took a few steps forward. Muscles tensed in preparation to flee, but Dagda sensed no malice in that wild and wondrous gaze. Despite being in rough shape, he was a majestic creature. Once he healed and returned to health, he would be a shining example of a prime specimen of his species.

Dagda reached out a hand with the back facing towards the goat. The soft white nose sniffed it a few times, nostrils flaring as it took in his scent. He seemed to be making up his mind. At last, the giant snout nudged Dagda’s hand upwards. Straightening out his fingers, the titan found his palm placed square against the white muzzle. The golden runes that had been fading from his left arm glowed bright once more before winking out entirely. It seemed the Hexagoat had decided to trust him. Whether that was because he was a Marmor or because he had saved it wasn’t clear.

“Hey, buddy,” Dagda whispered, moving his hand gently against the furry nose. “Guess you decided to like me, huh?” A grin crept across his face. He’d made a friend of the once-raging goat. Maybe now he would have a companion during his stay in the mountains.

Dagda peered over to the saddle once more, his brow furrowing. How could a Tetsukazuan species come to be on Earthland? Maybe there were some clues among the saddlebags as to who brought this Hexagoat here and why. He made a few steps toward the leather item when the goat let out an alarmed snort. Wary red-brown eyes started at the titan. The creature didn’t like him getting close to the saddle.

“Relax, I’m just going to check the saddlebags, then we can leave it here.” Dagda attempted to make his voice soothing, the deep tones reaching out to the Hexagoat. Mostly satisfied with his answer, the beast retreated to a safe distance, one where he could flee if the titan attempted to return the saddle to its former position.

Approaching the discarded leather creation, Dagda began opening clasps and rummaging around inside. He decided to gather just the useful stuff and take his time to look through it all later on once he set up camp for the night. Stuffing various things into the pockets of his pants and pack, Dagda was filled with an excited determination. Maybe some of this stuff could give him a clue of how to make his own return to Tetsukazu. A flash of desperate hope went through his heart. Maybe it wouldn’t be too long before he saw his son again…

Finishing up his collecting, Dagda stood and returned to the Hexagoat, who was watching patiently. Giving its beard a scratch, the titan smiled once more. “Let’s go set up camp and get you cleaned up, buddy.” The goat looked as relieved as a goat could.

As they headed down the mountain, Dagda pondered names for the creature. Hexagoats usually kept and knew the name given by their handlers. He rattled off an assortment of names, to which the beast shook its head side to side each time. First he tried the common ones, then the fancy ones. None of them were right.

“Okay, I’m going to try a really common, basic one. Is your name Six?” The goat nodded. “Whaaaat? You have the most basic name that kids give their Hexagoats? No way.” Dagda slapped his palm to his forehead and groaned. Six gave him an unamused look. “Sorry, sorry,” the titan apologized quickly. “It’s a great name!”

“Well, Six, I hope you stick around,” Dagda admitted as the two continued down the mountain in search of a creek.

That night, Dagda and Six camped by a little creek just down the valley from the clifftop where they had met. Along the valley wall it tumbled through the cliffs in the form of a long waterfall, but by the time it reached the Marmor and Hexagoat, it was just a gentle burble. The place they had chosen was a small clearing covered in grass, which Six eagerly began munching on as Dagda unpacked his overnight gear. Due to his unknown amount of time spent in a pained rage, the creature was ravenous.

The water was cold and fresh as the titan cleaned his hands and took a drink. He sat back on his heels with a content sigh. There was nothing quite as refreshing as mountain spring water. Night was settling upon the Phoenix Mountains. The evening chatter of birds was quieting, and the growing silence was only pierced by the occasional animal cry or the distant yapping of coyotes. Dagda had no worries about the canines. They hadn’t bothered him in the nights before and they likely wouldn’t now that he had a companion. A large man and a hexagoat weren’t exactly easy prey.

Dagda returned from the creek to his camp. Gathering wood took no time at all, and with ease he had prepared a ring of stones and dug a little hole to put the campfire in. He built up a little pile of wood in the center of the ring, placing bark and dry grasses beneath as kindling for the young flames. Using an old trick from his father, Dagda transformed the skin his middle finger into flint and the skin of his thumb into steel. The metal was harder to form and took a few seconds of concentration. With a few snaps of his fingers, the flint and steel had created enough sparks to light the kindling. In just minutes, there was a nice roaring fire. Its presence was comforting.

He turned to his pack and opened it up. After placing aside his cooking items, the titan pulled a small bundle out and began to untie the string around it. This was his small medical kit, most of which he had acquired in a small shop in Magnolia. The town had been his home base for a while, so he’d gotten to know some of the shop owners around town. A pharmacy owner had taken a particular liking to the titan, and they often spent afternoons chatting together outside of the shop. The man’s name was Lazar and his wrinkled face reminded Dagda of his own grandfather. Lazar had owned the medical shop for many years, having inherited it after his father. Business was often up and down, but the shop was historic and the locals loved the older man. His name and reputation preceded him. People often stopped by to bring him gifts or ask for advice.

Once they had gotten to know each other, Lazar had given Dagda some of his busted or excess supplies. In return, the titan had done some chores and favors for the older man. He visited the shop quite often. Lazar’s warm smile and sense of humor often eased the loneliness of being so far away from home. The titan provided some much needed companionship too. Having moved to Rose Garden a few years ago, Lazar’s only daughter and her family only got to visit a few times a year. It was clear in the lines on his face and the occasional day where his shoulders were more hunched than usual that the man missed them dearly. Any mention of his grandkids made his face light up. On more than one afternoon, he and Dagda had compared stories, the titan of his son and Lazar of his grandchildren. Their laughs could be heard from the street.

The thought of his friend put a smile on Dagda’s face as he laid out the cloth that contained all of his medical supplies. There were bandages, needle and thread, healing salve, the works. Everything he would need to help Six heal from the saddle wounds was present, no to mention his own wounds from the day. Dagda grabbed the items he needed and stood. Holding his fingers to his mouth, he let out a short but piercing whistle. Six raised his head sharply, ears angling towards the titan in curiosity.

“Come on, Six, we gotta get you healed up.” Dagda beckoned with a hand. After a moment of hesitation, the hexagoat trotted over through the long mountain grass. He had a mostly full belly now and was more relaxed and content than he had been in a while. Red-brown eyes gave a curious stare to the medical supplies. Six was obviously old enough to know about Marmor and how they cared for their steed companions. Still, it had been a while since he’d seen one, so he was more scrutinous about Dagda’s intentions.

“Easy, bud. Look, it’s healing salve and bandages.” The titan held out the little container and the roll of bandaging material so Six could see it. The goat eyed everything and sniffed it, seeming to decide that the items were acceptable.

“Great. Now, before I bandage you up, we’ve gotta clean out those wounds.” Peering around the creature’s side, he could see the areas that had been matted in sweat and grime. Though they were drying, the rashed areas were still highly inflamed and the open sores needed to be washed out. Unfortunately they seemed infected already, though it would help to clear out as much grime and bacteria as possible.

Dagda led the hexagoat over to the stream. Water greeted them with gentle sounds. The medical supplies were placed on the shore to wait for the two once they were done. Six stopped at the bank and gave the titan an incredulous look. The night breeze rustled his tangled beard.

“You need a bath, kid,” Dagda replied with a shrug. “Gotta get that grit out somehow, and I don’t have a healing magic to help. Get used to the old fashioned way of medicine.” The goat let out a snort. “Hey now, it’s not that bad. The water is nice and cool and it might even feel good.” The titan motioned down at the stream again. He probably sounded crazy to anyone who could have listened in, speaking to his new companion like he would another human. Not that he minded, though. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if the only response he could get was snorts and glances.

With an exaggerated sigh, the beast knelt, then laid on his side in the stream with a splash. Water flowed over his legs and belly, soaking the fur through. As the fur became more and more plastered to Six’s body, his condition became clear. Who knew how long the goat had been alone without his Marmor rider and with the saddle tormenting him. His ribs showed quite visibly through his sides, evidence of the near starvation that madness had driven him to. Though it was dark, Dagda could see dirt washing away in the stream with the ripples. Several clumps of fur joined that, as well as one stray scrap of leather that had clung to the beast’s sides. The titan watched as the piece departed down the stream, the last trace of the Marmor that had been with Six before.

Turning brown eyes back to the goat, his gaze softened. Six had closed his eyes and was enjoying the cool, soothing waters. All the hardship and pain this creature had gone through tugged at Dagda’s heartstrings. Hexagoats were the treasured companions of Marmor, treated with equal respect to the titans themselves. They were intelligent, hardy, and loyal creatures. For one to suffer like this was just awful. He uttered not a word of his empathy, for hexagoats were prideful creatures, but gave the goat a comforting scratch in the space between his horns. Six breathed out a sigh of relaxation in response.

The two sat in the creek like that for a while, their bond growing even stronger, unbeknownst to both of them. Neither would forget this day for the rest of their lives. After a while, Dagda turned over so that he was kneeling and began to look over the wounds. The worst were where the saddle had sat against Six’s back. Blood, pus, and necrotic skin showed.

Rising from the stream, Dagda called upon his Marmor abilities, and ancient technique called Earthbending. Braced in a wide stance, his feet allowed him to connect to the energy of the earth below. Using his clenched hands in a sort of telekinesis fashion, he pulled a rock from the shore at a distance. It floated in the air, held by the invisible force of the titan’s magical grip. With a few short, powerful movements of his fists, Dagda had broken the rock into a makeshift bucket. It wasn’t the cleanest form, as he was out of practice, but it would do.

Splashing his way back to Six, Dagda returned to his knees once more. With the bucket, he scooped up some water and gently began to pour it over the goat’s wounds. The sound of droplets falling back into the stream pierced the night air. Slowly, one by one, the titan washed off the wounds and sores. Though his hands were massive, they were gentle. Dagda didn’t want to cause his new friend any more discomfort than was necessary. Six winced here and there, but did his best to stay still and calm.

When the Marmor had decided that as much had been cleaned as possible of the saddle wounds, he used the bucket to clean off the rest of the dusty hexagoat. The water was soiled once again but quickly washed all the grit downstream. Fully soaked, Six waded to the shore and went to the campsite to sit by the fire and dry off. He wasn’t cold, but the sensation of damp fur was never a pleasant one.

Using the bucket, Dagda cleaned his own wounds from the day. Six’s attacks earlier had left some marks and gouges on his skin from flying horns and hooves. Though several blows had been blocked by his stone skin ability, he hadn’t been quick enough a few times. He had to grit his teeth as the water washed in a particularly deep cut. The cool liquid was soothing but stung at the same time.

When he was done, he made his way to the shore slowly, grabbing the medical supplies he had left on the bank as he reached it. Six was laying next to the fire, which was starting to die down. Dagda placed the medical supplies next to the drying goat and stoked the fire a bit, adding a few more logs to help it become a blaze once more. Hopefully the fire would be a comfort to both as he patched up their wounds. Turning to Six, he took off his shirt and grabbed up the supplies he would need to patch up the hexagoat. Each item that he picked up, he let his companion see and sniff. Hexagoats were flighty if something unknown got too close. It would ease Six’s mind to see what was going on and what he was using.

When he was done showing the salve, bandages, and other items, Dagda got to work. Using a small pair of scissors, he reached out to one sore area to begin trimming the hair. Six let out an alarmed snort and stared at the Marmor with one eye, the whites showing. He pulled back, confused. He’d shown the scissors to the goat, what was the issue now? Looking down at the scissors, he realized he was holding them in his metal arm. Glancing at Six from the corner of his eye, he twisted the silicone and metal joints in the wrist, moving it in a circle. The goat was staring at the arm intently, ready to flee.

“I see. Woah, it’s okay. This is my arm, I know it’s not natural.” He turned to the side so the creature could see that the prosthetic limb was attached to the base Percy had installed in what was left of his real arm. The silver-looking ring contained technology that connected his nerve endings to wires that carried and interpreted the signals sent from his brain to his hand. It was an amazing piece of technology and Dagda still often marveled at its sleek appearance. However, he knew not how much Six had been exposed to such tech. It was understandable that he was so cautious of it.

Dagda held out his prosthetic arm slowly, closing half the distance to the goat. He sat patiently and quietly, waiting to see if Six would close the distance and investigate the arm. After a few minutes, he did. With a few sniffs and a good look-over, the goat begrudgingly accepted the metal limb. Dagda grinned. He picked up the scissors again but decided to use his left hand primarily while doing this task.

After clearing out the hair around a wound on the shoulder to a short stubble and making sure not to cut the skin itself, the titan grabbed up the healing salve. It was Lazar’s recommendation to have some and it reminded Dagda of the salve his mother used to make with wild plants and beeswax, though it lacked the earthy smell. In fact, it didn’t smell like much at all. The titan lathered it into the wound carefully. He placed some gauze on top of that to soak up any blood or other fluids that might come out overnight. Grabbing a large rectangular bandage with sticky edges, he placed it over the gauze and wound, sealing it down a bit but allowing for some air to get in. He’d leave these dressings on overnight and check them in the morning, then likely another wash and application was due.

Dagda continued on meticulously, trimming, applying salve, and bandaging all of Six’s rashes and lacerations. It took quite a while, but he persisted patiently. By the time he was done, exhaustion filled his body. He’d forgotten how tough it was to take care of hexagoats. Sitting back on his heels, the titan bandaged his own wounds from the day. Six watched from his spot nearby with reddish-brown eyes. There wasn’t any guilt in that gaze, he knew what he had done to Dagda. Hexagoats weren’t exactly known for their compassionate natures.

Once his own wounds were treated, Dagda sat cross-legged by the fire. The thought of taking time to cook food from the rations he had brought sounded exhausting. It had been a long, strenuous day and his appetite wasn’t too grand at the moment. The titan elected to eat some bread and cheese instead and save a big meal for tomorrow morning. He sat with food in hand, staring into the flames as his mind wandered. He had so many questions that he wished could be asked to Six. Unfortunately, the goat had no way of telling his tale. Who had brought him to Earthland from Tetsukazu, and why? How? The Mizi had been integrated into the Marmor clans for centuries and they did not allow the titans to use their technology very much. How had a Marmor escaped from the planet? He’d never heard any stories of escapees in his lifetime. Sure, there were titans of all clans who went missing, but the mountains were a harsh place. Survival was tough. Could one of those missing Marmor actually have escaped from under Mizi control? It was unbelievable.

Looking back at Six, Dagda realized that the hexagoat had fallen asleep already. He’d exerted a ton of energy in his craze today. Now that he was on the mend, a long, deep rest was overdue. “Good night, buddy,” Dagda whispered, a smile crossing his weary face. He was so glad to have a companion now. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was without other stone titans. Family and community bonds were such a huge part of their culture. Being alone was something that nobody preferred, even if some had to endure it at times. Now he had another being from Tetsukazu to keep him company and a gently bittersweet reminder of home. It was not like having family there, but it was enough.

Dagda stared back into the low flames, the fire warming his face and feet. The bread and cheese had been finished, the only remains being a few crumbs on the ground. He remembered the items he had found in the saddlebags. He’d been in a rush and hadn’t taken a close look. Perhaps some of the stuff would give him clues to who the Marmor was that had been with Six. He wondered what they had done on Earthland. Was it by random chance that they ended up here, or was it a planned landing spot? There was a whole world of unanswered questions that had opened up upon his discoveries today. Dagda hungered for knowledge, desperate to grasp at any connection to his home or any clue on how to get back.

After a while, he decided it was time to rest. Eyelids drooped sleepily over his dark eyes. He put on his shirt again and removed his bedroll from the pack. Unrolling it next to the fire, the titan placed a small pillow at the head and his canteen next to it. Dagda groaned as his back finally collided with the bedroll. It seemed being headbutted square in the back by a massive, heavy creature left a little bruising. His jaw clenched as he shuffled around a bit to settle in, then let out a huge breath as he relaxed. This pain reminded him of the days of battle training back on Tetsukazu. Many nights he had gone to sleep aching all over, only to be forced to rise early the next day and do it all again. Dagda drifted off to sleep swiftly with thoughts of Tetsukazu on his mind and dancing hexagoats in his dreams.