《Apocalypse Man》


 Ch. 1 Leaving

    The day of the awakening, Aran knew something had changed immediately. When the belt landed on his back, it hadn''t hurt. This was strange in and of itself, but especially odd since it *had hurt* the previous 28 times. Aran had barely even felt the leather as it lashed. The scars on his back made sure he knew this wasn''t normal. Even though he knew better, he snuck a look backward at the figure wielding the belt.


    She stood hunched over, lungs heaving from the effort of swinging the belt so many times. This was a regular occurrence, but she''d never managed to build up any endurance. Another source, Aran often thought, of her hatred for him. Her hair was a lank, dirty blond bordering on white it was so washed out from malnutrition. His own black hair another reason she ceaselessly crowed she was better than him, saying he was bound to be bad with hair that dark and evil looking. Her eyes were sunken, petulant orbs of hate, dark brown irises surrounded by sickly yellow sclera, ever on the move like some furious rodent.


    The dark beads latched on to Aran''s upturned face in an instant, before he could look away. He cringed internally, knowing better than to show any emotion. *That was a mistake.*


    "Don''t you dare look at me!", she screeched, punctuated by another lash with the belt. Again, there''d been no pain. And now that he thought about it, his back wasn''t sore any more.


    He felt, more than saw the boot rushing towards his side, and braced. It landed with a dull thud, and a screech of pain from his mother. The heavy steel toe should have broken his ribs, weak as his bones were. Weak as all of him was, to tell the truth. That was why she said she hated him. 3 years ago, she''d said so after he''d broken his arm when he''d "fallen" down the stairs, for the second time. She couldn''t believe she''d been left with such a weakling to take care of, that his father would have been ashamed of such a pitiful son were he still alive. He''d had more broken bones, bruises and lacerations than birthdays to repay her for being so weak.


    Aran was wrenched out of his reverie by the cursing spewing out of her mouth. He risked another glance, slowly turning his head enough to see. She was on the ground beside the bed he was still braced against, rocking back and forth on her back, cradling her left foot. Her eyes were closed and he could see the beginnings of tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. His eyebrows rose in astonishment before he schooled his face back to blank. Had she hurt her foot by kicking him? Unless something was very wrong with those boots, it should have gone the other way.


    Aran''s mind slowly turned over what had just happened. How would kicking him have hurt her? And more importantly, why was none of it hurting him? As he thought over his body and the pain, his vision swam and sensations nearly overwhelmed his brain. He could feel... something. It felt like every cell in his body was a tiny light, and he could see them all in his mind¡¯s eye. Each of them was linked by gossamer threads to him, and each other. It felt like his whole body was in perfect concert, each cell bracing the others, reinforced by the sheer amount of connections.


    He had no idea what this was. At the center of it all, he felt was... whatever made him, him. His body felt taut, like a rope pulled nearly to breaking, but stronger because of it.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Aran briefly considered whether he''d passed out from the beating and this was all a dream, but quickly dismissed it. He''d never been this lucid in a dream, and he was certain he''d never be able to dream up all the curses she was hissing out. So what was this? And why was he suddenly able to... do whatever this was?


    He looked to her once again, and decided he had a moment before she regained her bearings. He felt the threads shift, quivering as she struck again. And as his minds eye traced them, they all pulled back to a central point, a whirling mass in the center of him. Bright blue energy turned, each thread braiding with others as they approached, becoming thicker until they all spun around each other in a dizzying maze of lines that ended in the blue roiling pool.


    He considered if he was seeing this as his final moments, if maybe she''d finally beat him to death, in his own home. Home being a bit of a stretch, he mused. That would explain not feeling any pain from his mother''s strikes, but why was it so vivid, so real?


    The thought brought him back to reality. Or at least what he was assuming was still reality. Why could he feel all of this? Why were his cells woven together this way? High school biology had taught him enough he knew those weren''t nerve endings he could feel. Were other people able to feel this? He had so many questions and he certainly couldn''t ask his mother. He glanced her way, and as his attention swayed away from himself, his perception of his body faded.


    Only then did he notice she''d stopped cradling her foot, and was glaring at him.


    "What do you think you''re doing? You probably broke my foot, you worthless boy!" Her voice grew louder as she struggled to stand. Aran raised an eyebrow at that.


    "I think you broke it when you kicked me," he said quietly. Another mistake he admitted to himself. Her hand lashed out at his face, the heel of her palm striking his jaw. The blow turned his face, but that was all. Even after his revelation with the kick, he was still surprised to find it hadn''t hurt, and had no doubts it wouldn''t have left a mark.


    His mother''s eyes narrowed. He hadn''t reacted, and that had put her on the back foot. She balled her leathery fingers into a fist and struck again, aiming for his eye if he was any judge. Which he was, of course. He''d had to excuse quite a few black eyes to his boss at the local grocery store.


    This time he was ready, and his neck tensed. Her fist collided with his face, and he heard a sickening *crunch*. She screamed again, and he knew she''d broken something this time. With a start, he realized he was sporting the ghost of a smile on his lips.


    "Something''s changed. I don''t think that''s going to work anymore," he said as he slowly straightened. "Can you feel it? It''s like I''m alive for the first time."


    She''d stopped screaming as soon as he spoke, glowering at him from underneath her disheveled bangs. "What are you talking about, you filthy burden?"


    "Think about yourself, really think. Can''t you feel more? Like every bit of you is listening?"


    She narrowed her eyes at him, but they suddenly widened in apparent alarm. He knew she could feel something.


    "What the hell? What''s happening?!" She screeched, voice rising in both pitch and alarm.


    "I don''t know," he said truthfully. "Something''s made us... I don''t even know. I have no idea what''s going on. But you can''t hurt me anymore." This got her attention, her eyes narrowing and focusing on him once again.


    "What are you on about? I can do whatever I want. I own you, the only reason you''re alive is because of my generosity!"


    His hand rocketed through the air, landing in an open palmed slap across her face. She slammed into the ground, sprawling haphazardly. She spluttered, unable to even express the rage in her eyes. He looked down on her, lying on the exposed wooden floorboards of their shoddy two bedroom apartment. His hand was almost humming with energy, and he could feel connections strengthening to reinforce his hand.


    "I''m leaving. You will not touch me again," he said, and knew the words to be the truest he''d ever spoken. He turned, grabbed his wallet off the dresser, and strode out of his room. Grabbing his coat off the hook, he opened the door, stepped through, and never looked back.


    He had a smile on his face.

 Ch. 2 Fall

    As he reached the bottom of the stairs of the apartment building, stair 1 of 435, as he''d come to know it, he finally noticed the silence. There were always sirens in this part of town, even if they were distant, the shrill wail could nearly always be heard over the thrum of engines and occasional horn. But there was none of that now. He nervously eyed the door to the outside, wondering what was going on. He opened the door to the grey light and biting breeze of a March morning, and stepped through.


    The sight that awaited him left him gaping. On the normally busy city street outside, hundreds of people were standing on the sidewalk or beside their cars, all looking up at the same blindingly white object hanging in the sky a hundred feet or so above.


    It appeared to be some sort of crystal, Aran thought. It wasn''t giving off light, just reflecting it in every direction in a way that made it seem bright. He imagined to garner attention, which he had to admit, was working. Whatever was happening seemed to be affecting the whole city, as he could see another obelisk further down the street.


    <Greetings, humanity.> A blaring monotone echoed seemingly from all directions.


    <Your world has been elevated, by order of the Judges.> Aran felt the weight in the last word, and immediately understood this was more than a title. He felt a shiver at the power behind the word.


    <Your world is sufficiently advanced for intermingling with the other planes. Each of your species will be afforded the right to struggle for supremacy, or abdicate from this world. You will be given one year to choose, after which your world will complete the merge.> Aran''s breath hitched. That sounded very much like ¡°fight or die¡±. And what merge? Merge with these other planes the voice spoke of?


    <Under the Law of Supremacy, you will be judged. The strong will be rewarded, and the weak left behind. The Judges have granted a boon this world, to create opportunity for advancement. The native flora and fauna of this world are insufficient for this, so new materials have been imported. This will be difficult for many to accept, as the Law puts order to reality you have not seen before. These obelisks will be left for one local month to help your species understand the Law.>


    What followed was chaos. As the obelisks began to lower, people broke down sobbing in fear, ran towards the obelisk, or simply stood in shock. Aran had started walking towards the obelisk, but was quickly swallowed by the crowd, roughly shoved in every direction in the crush of bodies. It was nearly two hours before he reached the structure, which he now saw was about 10 feet tall and seemed to be made of mirrors that showed nothing but silvery light. As he finally squeezed through, his hand brushed the obelisk, and a calm entered his mind. A smaller version of the obelisk appeared in his hand, and in his surprise, allowed himself to be swept away from the strange device.


    It was only once he found himself standing alone, that he blinked and realized he hadn''t learned anything. Looking down at the crystal, his mind was immediately filled with information.


    The Law of Supremacy, it seemed, was more than just might makes right. The Law governed all beings within it, and the laws of reality for anyone touched by it. The Judges brought new worlds into the Law when they were judged to be ready to advance to a new stage of civilization, or when the world''s inhabitants were past a point of technological advancement. Aran guessed Earth was the latter, as nothing about humanity led him to believe they were ready for a higher state of civilization. Theirs didn''t seem to be all that great, from where he stood. The Law categorized every being by race, level, and attributes, all of which determined the strength of a being. The Judges were a group of divine beings who served the Law, and spread its influence to new worlds. Their identity, how they''d become Judges, or if they''d always been wasn''t covered by the smaller obelisk.


    Aran let out a breath he didn''t know he''d been holding. He needed to sit and process all of this. He wandered to the sidewalk and sat down on the curb. He wasn''t alone, several other people were in various states of shock, standing listlessly. He looked up at the people still milling near the crystal, and wondered how they were handling this. He felt strangely... detached, as all of this was happening to someone else, and his reality wasn''t fundamentally changed in the span of an afternoon.


    He sat there for several hours, watching the shadows creep longer on the street in the pleasant fall air. It seemed so... normal. The earth was no longer alone, but it just kept turning. But it wasn''t normal, not anymore. He''d just learned for a fact there were beings in the universe that could manipulate everything he saw, and how he saw it. That was going to shake a lot of people''s psyches to the core. Now that he thought about it, the information in the crystal would probably cause as many issues. The crystal had spoken about mana, and how some individuals with the talent or skills would be able to use it to perform what was essentially magic.


    While at first his eyes had widened at the thought, he realized it must be how the Judges essentially mastered reality, and the thought was utterly horrifying. To say he felt insignificant in the face of such absurd power was a laughable understatement. He grimaced, wasn''t that how he''d always felt though? He''d been hated and mocked his entire life, and he''d learned to never expect an ounce of mercy. The idea that people could wield such awful power set his teeth on edge. His mother would surely have used it torture him in ever more viscious ways. He had to stop the train of thought there. He was hyperventilating, panic rising in his throat to choke him. He could not allow fear to take over, or he''d sit here all night shaking.


    He pushed it all aside, and looked up. The day had slipped away as he sat contemplating, and evening was casting long shadows in the city. The street was still strangely silent, as if the whole world was still holding its breath, waiting to see if this was all a dream. Aran realized with a start that he''d need to find somewhere to sleep. He could never go home again, and he wanted to keep pushing forward, but tonight there would be no push.


    He stood and started walking. He checked his wallet, only 23 dollars and a few loose quarters. No hotel, then. He''d seen the homeless huddling under bridges and in alleys, and he''d likely need to find one of his own, to shelter away from the chill. He walked for an hour, headed east on a side street. Between two large buildings, apartments he assumed, there was a cramped alley, perfect for sheltering out of the wind. Walking far enough into the alley he wouldn''t be disturbed if someone passed by, he sat down with a thump against the wall. Not that he expected anyone to pass by. He''d seen very few people out, and only one car passed him in all the time he walked.


    The sun had gone down while he''d searched, and as he listened to the dull drone of the various pipes and radiators of the buildings around him heating the homes of people safe and cozy in their beds, sheltered from the terror of the day, he fell asleep.


    ---


    The dull tap of nails on cement, accompanied by the soft whistle of sniffing, woke him. Even in his drowsy state, he smiled. It was likely a stray dog, looking for scraps. He''d always loved strays, as his mother would never have allowed them to have one of their own. When he''d fallen asleep, he''d sat beside a large bin, hidden from view of the street, and now moved to peek around the side. The dog would probably make a great companion for the evening, and if nothing else would cheer him up. Aran''s mind froze as he got a look at the creature methodically searching the alley. It stood on 5 legs, one of which looked frail and dragged a bit as it moved. Each leg ended in a single foot-long talon, on which it balanced, piercing into the concrete with each step. Its hide was black and dry looking, cracks forming along every fold in its twisted torso. Aran''s mind reeled as he looked at where a head should be, only a single, large eye flicked back and forth, searching. Only then did he notice the small flaps in the skin around the eye opening and closing in time with the sound of the sniffing.


    His mouth was dry. Should he call for help? He doubted anyone would hear, much less venture out to see what was happening. As his mind raced in an endless loop of panicked dead ends, he sat perfectly still as the monster creeped closer. He couldn''t move. Aran was terrified beyond action, and could only stare at the approaching horror. As its foot-spike landed, it stopped. Its eye slowly swiveled towards him, and Aran''s breath hitched in his throat, making a nearly imperceptible noise in his throat. The creature immediately sprinted towards him, its legs making an unholy skittering as it ran. The sudden movement jolted him back to reality and he tried to stand and run, but the creature was already upon him.


    The monster turned as it hit, throwing its shoulder to knock him on his back, and positioning itself above him. He shrieked in horror as the underside of the creature split open to show row after row of jagged, mismatched teeth covered in saliva. He rolled to the side, desperately trying to get away. It shifted quickly to cover him, one leg stabbing down at his hand to pin him in place. But the talon didn''t pierce his hand, only managing to slam it into the ground. Aran wrenched his hand free, grimacing at the feeling of the talon scratching along his skin. He felt his cells tighten in his hand to compensate. Mind racing, he looked inward. The crystal hadn''t explained anything about mana other than it was a part of every living creature, and throughout space. In desperation, he mentally grasped at the strings, and tried to force them to change, to get this thing away from him. They didn''t budge, and he rolled as another talon sank where his shoulder had been. He couldn''t move them that way, then.


    The monster had by now positioned itself and centered the mouth over him. With a sudden lurch, it dropped. Aran twisted as it fell, but it wasn''t enough. The maw closed on his left hip, and the teeth sank into his flesh. He felt the connections in his cells brighten, then break, as the creature sawed into him. He screamed in agony. He was bleeding now, more than he thought he could, as the beast thrashed above him. He swung wildly at it with both hands, trying to break its hold, anything to make it stop. The pain had to stop, to end. His mind couldn''t take it, and he felt himself losing control to blind panic.


    His terror seemed to flip a switch internally. It felt as if every cell flared into an inferno, and the connections flexed. His whole body burned, the inferno of energy turning his cells into an impenetrable wall. He watched as the creature''s teeth failed to penetrate him any more, and his flesh knit back together. The creature started to rise off of him, confusion in its bulbous eye. That wasn''t okay, that thing couldn''t just *eat him* and get away with it. His terror coalescing into fury, Aran reared his arm back, feeling the connections swell even further. His fist slammed into the eye of the beast, black blood and gore spewing all over his face beneath.


    The creature reeled, talons slipping on the ground as it toppled back. Aran pulled his feet towards him to keep from getting crushed under it, and watched it¡¯s twitching body slowly bleed out. He stared at it for several minutes after it had ceased moving, his body slowly coming down from the adrenaline.


    ¡°What the fuck,¡± he finally whispered. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± He gingerly prodded the body with his toe, and immediately felt a rush of energy. It felt like he¡¯d just grabbed a live wire and it was pumping pure life into him. It ended as suddenly as it began, and he was left feeling just as winded as before. The body hadn¡¯t moved, but he still didn¡¯t feel safe. It felt like he¡¯d absorbed energy from the body, which shouldn¡¯t be possible. None of this should be possible, monsters with spike feet shouldn¡¯t be attacking him in the middle of the night!


    Thinking of the creature''s body, he looked down at his own. His pants were shredded where the beast had tried to eat him, but luckily his jacket had survived with only a few small tears at the bottom. He was still covered in blood down his leg, but he didn¡¯t feel hurt. He ran his hands over the area, and found only a few thin scars where the teeth had gone particularly deep. His body had managed to heal the wounds in an instant, and even prevented the monster from doing any more damage, incredibly. Looking inwards again, he could feel where the new scars were immediately. The cells there felt different, like they were stronger, and more tightly connected to the others. All of the strands felt more alive, now that the monster was dead, a little brighter now. He looked towards his core, and it felt brighter too. He couldn¡¯t quite see the core as well as his cells though, like it was blurry and out of focus.


    Aran frowned. The crystal hadn¡¯t explained any of this. He guessed that the connections were mana, and that each was bridging back to his core, but he didn¡¯t know if it was mana as well, or his soul, or something else. The Judges might be able to change the universe at will, but they didn¡¯t seem to be able to make a very good guide for it. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    A sound ripped Aran out of his thoughts as he whirled around. At the far end of the alley, another of the creatures was slowly stalking towards him. He quickly dropped into a wider stance. As he was debating whether to run or fight, it rushed him. The moment¡¯s hesitation was all it took for the beast to reach him, and he braced for impact, hoping the connections would tighten.


    The creature launched itself at him, as he crossed his arms in front of his face to shield himself. He clenched his eyes shut, and felt the monster slam into him. He stumbled back a step, and opened his eyes in surprise. The creature had bounced right off, landing heavily on its back with a muffled thump. Aran didn¡¯t hesitate this time, launching himself on top of the creature and going for the eye. The creatures talon¡¯s scrabbled over his back, trying to find purchase to skewer him. It¡¯s forelegs pushed him away, as he tried to slap them away. He grabbed one of them as it retracted to try to stab him once more, and tried to force it down on itself. If those talon¡¯s could pierce concrete, he was sure they¡¯d have no trouble with the beast¡¯s thick leathery hide. The beast was strong, though, and as he struggled to move the talong closer to it¡¯s chest and frantically swivelling eye, he started to feel the strands linking his cells beginning to lose the brightness that had infused them since the other creatures death.


    As the connections weakened, he could feel his cells starting to loosen, and the talons started to scrape away at his flesh, little by little. With a surge of fresh terror, he realized he was going to run out of strength to resist the beast before he could kill it. In a frenzy he threw the talon away and willed everything he had into his arms. Lifting them over his head, he balled his fists together and brought them down as hard as he could. One of the beast''s limbs moved to intercept his blow, and snapped with a sickening crunch as his fists pushed through unimpeded. With a sound like overripe fruit bursting, he pulped the beast''s torso. Lifting his arms again, he slammed down again, and again until only red paste covered the cracked concrete.


    Letting his arms fall to his sides, Aran leaned back, still on his knees, and inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath. He immediately vomited to the side. The smell of the creature¡¯s blood and viscera was indescribable, and each new breath brought fresh nausea. After emptying his stomach of everything he¡¯d eaten in the last week, he finally managed to breath through his mouth and stop himself from retching. He stood, and had to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to stop himself from screaming in pain. The monster had managed to dig shallow grooves all over his back before he managed to kill it. Tears streaming down his face, he forced himself to shuffle off of the monster and brace himself against the wall of the alley.


    He closed his eyes and focused on breathing slowly, and looked inward. He felt the same influx of energy as before, and knew the monster was completely dead. As he watched, the depleted strands of energy spanning his being surged into life and energy spread across his battered body. The scrapes and cuts immediately began to heal, with only the barest hint of scars remaining.


    Aran let out a long breath. This was insane. Yesterday he¡¯d sprained his wrist trying to pry open an expired jar of pickles, and today he was surviving monster attacks and coming out stronger for it. A grim smile split his blood soaked face. Monsters. That was the only way to describe them. He looked over at the bloody remains of the beasts. The Judges crystals hadn¡¯t lied, then. These must be the new ¡°fauna¡± they¡¯d brought in. They certainly provided the challenge the crystals had said Earth was lacking. If he hadn¡¯t been able to bind his cells together or whatever he did, he would certainly be dead. Most people would be too, he thought.


    The thought slapped him in the face. There could be more of these things out there, and probably other people out on the street! He had to let someone know, maybe the police could issue a warning or something. He fished in his pocket for his beat up flip phone. His face fell when he pulled it out. The small screen was cracked, and the hinge was mostly ripped apart. It must have been damaged in the fight. He¡¯d have to find someone to borrow one from, or see if there were any of those old phone booths nearby. He started walking towards the end of the alley, and that¡¯s when he heard the screams.


    The sounds triggering some primal herd instinct in him, Aran¡¯s pace increased to a run. As he reached the edge of the alley, the sounds of breaking glass and the faraway shriek of sirens joined the cacophony. He slammed to a stop. The sight that greeted him made him want to turn and run as fast as his legs would carry him. Thousands of the monsters from the alley were swarming up the street, climbing over vehicles and up the walls of the buildings lining it. There were several windows and doors shattered open and screams could be heard from within. As Aran stood in shock, another beast saw him in the open and charged.


    This time, he was ready. Bracing himself for the impact, the strands flared to life, energy surging across his body. The creature sprinted toward him in its lopsided gait, and leapt the final meter. Aran¡¯s body moved faster than he thought possible, and his punch went wide, slamming into the beast¡¯s shoulder. The limb connected to it went limp, and before it could recover, Aran followed up with another strike, ready for the speed this time. Black blood erupted from the eye, and the beast fell twitching.


    After a moment, the now familiar wave of energy filled Aran¡¯s body, and this time, he felt it enter him and flow into the center of him. It felt like an empty pond that had suddenly been filled for the first time. A brief sense of discomfort filled him, then dissipated just as suddenly. The pond felt bigger, now. Just slightly, but enough to accomodate all the new energy and have room for more. He grinned. That could be useful, if he could keep making the pond bigger, he¡¯d never have to worry about the monsters being able to hurt him again.


    More creatures were approaching, however. He counted at least 7 that seemed aware of him now, and hundreds more were pouring into this part of the city. He took a step back, and started running. He could handle one of those things, but 7 would undoubtedly be his end. He needed to find somewhere to hide, or at least not so open. He sprinted down the street, strands of energy pumping his legs full of vigor.


    He¡¯d managed to put a few blocks between him and the monsters when a police car swerved around the corner, sirens blaring. The driver slammed on the brakes as he nearly ran into the car, hands impacting the hood hard enough to leave dents. Two police officers immediately got out of the car and hurried towards him.


    ¡°Are you alright? Jesus is that blood?!¡± the first officer, a heavyset man with greying hair and serious brown eyes said as he reached Aran. The second officer, a woman of similar age took one look and immediately shouted she was getting the first aid kit.


    Aran waived the officer off and shouted ¡°We¡¯ve got to get out of here, more are coming!¡± He frantically looked back towards the street, looking for the beasts.


    ¡°What? Who¡¯s coming?¡± the officer asked, making soothing motions with his hands, which only served to irritate Aran. The sounds of rapid tapping of talons on asphalt made them both turn to look up the street. Only a soft ¡°Dear God¡± escaped the man¡¯s throat before one of the creatures slammed into him, the force of the blow toppling him into the side of the cruiser. His head hit the side of the car, his neck twisting at too hard an angle. With a sharp crack, he died instantly.


    Aran had leapt to the side, and other of the creatures had made it to him almost instantly. Grabbing it out of the air, he twisted, slamming it onto its back beside him. With a single sharp jab, he ended its existence. Another had leapt over the car, intending to reach the other officer, but had overshot the jump and tumbled past. The other officer had drawn a pistol and was already trying to use her radio. She managed to get two shots off before it had righted itself, but it didn¡¯t go down. Righting itself, it charged her again. Aran sprinted over, slamming into its side, and toppling it. As it scrabbled to find purchase to stand, he slammed both fists into its eye, killing it.


    He stood up, panting heavily. The officer crouched next to the car, eyes wide and visibly shaking. ¡°Jesus. Jesus Christ what is that?! Oh God, oh God Ben!¡± She shakily stood, looking for her partner. She screamed when she saw the monster devouring his limp body, firing every round in her pistol at it. The creature sagged, one of the rounds seemed to have hit some vital spot in it, and it shakily collapsed on top of the dead officer. She continued to pull the trigger, the gun clicking hollowly as she shrieked at the monster.


    Aran looked past her, and couldn¡¯t see any more of them coming. He approached the officer, trying to get her attention. He called to her a few times, before gently touching her shoulder. She whirled, pistol held as a bludgeoning object, and only barely missed his face. She immediately pulled back.


    ¡°Fuck! Don¡¯t do that! I could have killed you!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°Sorry, but we need to leave, there are more of them out there! Please, please, do you have anywhere safe? We can¡¯t stay here!¡± the words coming out in a rush. She looked at him, and seemed to find some measure of composure.


    ¡°There¡¯s more of those things? Do you know how many? We¡¯ll need to¡­¡± she paused, and looked over at the corpse of her former partner. ¡°Oh god, Ben,¡± she whispered, tears falling freely down her cheeks. She dropped to her knees beside him, trying to push the creature off. Aran just stood there a moment, unsure of how to comfort this stranger, and also anxious to get somewhere safe. He¡¯d seen 7 of them previously, and just because they hadn¡¯t all shown up at the same time didn¡¯t mean more weren¡¯t coming.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am? Ma¡¯am, listen, I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry but we really need to leave. There are lots of those things up the road, thousands. We¡¯re going to need all of the police, or something and I just really want to leave. Can we please leave?¡± he said, volume rising with his panic.


    ¡°And go where?! The whole fucking world is in a state of emergency kid, and now these things are showing up out of thin air! We were the only unit sent over here, because the entire city is going to hell. We¡¯ve got reports coming in from every block there are things attacking people, there is no safe place!¡±


    Aran stumbled back. There were even more of these things? It sounded like the whole city was being overrun, and he had nowhere to run. He fell to his knees, and felt tears welling up. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do,¡± he mumbled. ¡°How are we supposed to live like this? There are so many of them¡­¡± The police officer looked at him, and all he saw in her eyes was pity.


    ¡°Listen, kid, there are people working on it. I heard most other cities are still okay, and that the government is going to send help! Maybe the army can fix this, keep us safe. We¡¯ll be okay, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re already on their way,¡± she said, punctuated by the sounds of breaking glass and screaming.


    She stood and helped Aran to his feet. ¡°My name is Sergeant Melony Vicken, you can call me Melony. I doubt the station has any more room for us, but let me call in to see if a shelter has been established. And I need to report on¡­ Ben.¡± She stood and moved away, talking quietly into the radio on her uniform.


    Aran stood, staring down the road and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the people still fighting for their lives. Instead, he looked inward once more, and his core felt fuller, more vibrant. He tried looking into it, pushing to see more, but wasn¡¯t able to discern more than a hazy image of depth. He shook his head, and looked over at Melony. Her face had gone pale, and she was speaking rapidly into the radio.


    ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s been overrun? What¡¯s overrun it? There should be dozens of officers on sight and a small army¡¯s worth of ordinance!¡±


    The radio crackled with the voice of a dispatcher: ¡°I don¡¯t know Sergeant! We¡¯re not getting any more information out of Central HQ, and I¡¯m the only dispatcher responding on comms, I¡¯ve got dozens of calls coming in for help, and some Army guy on the line asking for updates every 5 minutes!¡±


    ¡°Fucking finally, are they close?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re being cagey and won¡¯t tell me their ETA, something about Operational Security or some shit. We need them now, Sergeant. There have been¡­ a lot of casualty reports.¡±


    ¡°Jesus, I know. When is that ambulance supposed to arrive? There are people dying here on 5th, and we- I can''t get close, there are too many of these things.¡±


    ¡°Sergeant, I don¡¯t know. Every ambulance in the city is running, I have no idea what kind of ETA you¡¯re looking at. Based on what we know, I¡¯d advise you to find a safe spot that you can defend until the army arrives. Leave something outside, so the Ambulance can find you, better yet, radio in to let us know your approximate location ASAP.¡±


    ¡°Roger that, I¡¯ll find something, and escort this civilian. Out.¡± The radio fell silent, and Melony turned to Aran with renewed vigor. ¡°Alright, we need to find someplace to hole up, ASAP. I think we¡¯ll stay in this area, if we can find someplace that can hole up for a while. Let me just take care of Ben¡­ and we¡¯ll go.¡± She moved to the side of the dead man, gently pulling him to the side of the car, and laying him down. She removed his badge, pocketing it quietly. Aran turned away, giving her privacy to let her partner go in peace.


    A frustrated sigh surprised him as he turned back to her. She was sitting back on her haunches, glaring at the side of the cruiser. ¡°Those fucking things punctured the tire. I¡¯ll have to change it. Mind lending a hand?¡± she said, standing with a grunt. Aran nodded silently as she moved to the back of the vehicle and opened the trunk. He joined her, grabbing the spare tire as she started to jack up the front.


    As she worked to first unmount the punctured wheel, then start on the replacement, he squatted awkwardly beside her. ¡°What¡¯s your name, kid?¡± she finally said, breaking the silence between them. He imagined it was to help drown out the noises from up the street, to keep them both from losing it.


    ¡°Aran. Uh, Briggs.¡±


    ¡°Pretty crazy day, huh Aran? First we get crazy talking crystals falling from the sky, and now monsters are running through the streets. These so called Judges seem like real assholes so far.¡±


    He could only nod in agreement. Their so called Law didn¡¯t seem to be much more than a bloody free for all so far, and it hadn¡¯t even been 24 hours. The thought was sobering, that things might get worse. He struggled to imagine much worse than the whole-sale slaughter of a city by horrifying eldritch spike monsters, but he was still struggling to wrap his head around everything that was happening.


    ¡°Have you¡­ felt any different since Judges crystals came?¡± he asked tentatively.


    ¡°I mean, yeah, everything changed. I¡¯ve just been trying to keep my head above water and keep the city safe. That¡¯s been keeping me going, helping people¡¯s made it bearable, the fact that there are things outside our little world, and they can change it with a snap of their fingers.¡±


    Aran nodded, but inwardly his mind was racing. She¡¯d thought he was talking about emotions, obviously she didn¡¯t feel the connections or pool of mana within herself. Maybe he was crazy, or maybe he was the only person who could feel it. Best not to mention it to her, she might not want to help someone she thought was crazy. Or worse, treat him like some breakable invalid, and lock him up.


    Melony finished mounting the tire and stood, wiping grease on her trousers. ¡°Alright, lets go. We can drive until we find a serviceable building, preferably with minimal windows.¡± As they started to get into the car, a terrifying screech echoed across the city. Both of them instinctively crouched, huddling next to the car.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Meloney hissed.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but it sounds big,¡± he muttered back. The two of them looked around for a moment, before getting in the car. With a muffled cough, the engine came to life, and they slowly rolled down the street, heading towards the docks at the western edge of the city. This part of the city looked deserted, with no cars or people visible at all.


    ¡°Looks like everyone evacuated. That¡¯s why we were headed to 5th earlier, to help get people out of the city.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be evacuating then? I mean if they were trying to get everyone out, why are we staying?¡±


    ¡°I guess you didn¡¯t hear that part then, the whole city is in lock down, every district has had calls coming in nonstop. I¡¯m not sure if it''s the same creatures across the city, but nowhere is safe, and all of the roads have been ordered closed. I think maybe the army is going to surround the city and try to keep everything contained until we can establish some order.¡±


    Aran stared at her, aghast. ¡°So we¡¯re trapped?! In here, with those things and who knows what else?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°It''s only temporary. We¡¯ll be out in no time, we just need to wait it out a bit.¡±

 Ch. 3 Erased

    General Amrys sighed. ¡°Mr. President, I don¡¯t know that we can keep any of this contained. You¡¯ve seen the footage. We barely make a dent in the 5 legged creatures, and the big ones managed to flip a tank. I think we all know the other option.¡± He stared at all the faces lit on the screen, letting it sink in.


    One of the other members turned towards the president. ¡°Sir, we¡¯re still not sure on exact casualties, but the city was evacuated hours ago and nothing else has made it out. We don¡¯t have the ability to secure the city with the forces in the region, and letting this continue will only let more people die, and potentially give the enemy a place to hole up, making them more difficult to remove in the future.¡±


    ¡°Our closest sight can deliver the payload in 2 hours. Scorched Earth capabilities,¡± the General added. ¡°The long term effects would be significant, but the enemy would be permanently neutralized, and we can redeploy troops to areas where they can make a difference.¡±


    The president sighed heavily. Amrys waited. He didn¡¯t envy the man, this decision would haunt them all either way, but the president most of all. The media would crucify him, but tactically, it was a sound decision.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it. I want to give the people there 8 more hours to get out. Do we have anyone in the city who can get a warning out?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been in contact with a city dispatcher, we¡¯ll get a warning out if at all possible.¡±


    ¡°Good, get it done. I hope history will remember us as leaders, and not desperate fools. I¡¯ve got to let Congress know. You have 8 hours, General. Then I want those things wiped off the face of the Earth. We all know there¡¯s more coming.¡±


    ---


    Aran sat in one of the office chairs of the grocery store, staring up at the ceiling. They¡¯d been here for hours now, with nothing to do but wait for any signal to come in over the radio. Melony had cycled through all the police frequencies for an hour before returning to the default and waiting. She had a spare battery, but it would be important to conserve the radio, as it could be a while. They hadn¡¯t heard back from the dispatcher since getting in the car, so after they¡¯d found the grocery store unlocked, they¡¯d pulled the metal gates down behind the glass and barricaded the doors with boxes and tipped over shopping carts.


    They hadn¡¯t spoken much over the past few hours. The oppressive atmosphere of silence was punctuated by the occasional sound of breaking glass and car alarms. They¡¯d had to cower in silence a few times while securing the building and doors, hiding out of sight until they were sure the danger had passed.


    Melony walked into what Aran assumed was the manager¡¯s office, plopping down into the chair across from his. The narrow window near the ceiling let in amber light, throwing the room into a washed out sepia.


    ¡°Still no signal?¡± he asked, already knowing the answer.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°No,¡± she sighed, looking haggard. They¡¯d been taking turns listening to the radio and going up to the roof to look for other people or any signs of help.


    ¡°I¡¯ll head up and look for a bit. You should get some rest,¡± he said quietly, stretching his arms as he stood.


    She looked hard at him. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay? We¡¯re safe in here, we can wait awhile before checking.¡±


    Aran shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I just want to look for awhile.¡± He walked out of the office to the small stairwell to the roof. Being outside would do him good. The cool autumn air felt good on his skin, now that he¡¯d cleaned up a bit.


    When he¡¯d first looked at his blood covered face in the grocery store¡¯s bathroom mirror, he¡¯d been shocked. Along with the tears and stains on his clothes, he looked like a lunatic. After cleaning himself in the sink as much as possible, he still looked disheveled, but felt much better. Cleaning blood off of himself was an old ritual, and it had helped soothe his nerves.


    Aran crouched next to the low wall ringing the roof of the store, peaking over onto the street. In the last few hours, more and more of the spike monsters had swarmed across the area. None of them seemed to have caught their scent so far, but it might only be a matter of time with so many out hunting. They¡¯d also seen a new beast, a huge horned thing on four legs, covered in a thick carapace. Aran had taken to calling them beetle rhinos, and the one they¡¯d seen was quickly swarmed by the spike monsters. The animal¡¯s shell had taken quite a beating before it finally went down, taking several of the smaller creatures with it.


    That had been a revelation for them, that not all of the creatures were friendly with each other, and they seemed to be establishing territories for each species. It really did seem that the Judges had dumped creatures from other worlds on Earth, which made Aran wonder what other creatures might be encroaching on other places in the world.


    His gaze refocused as one of the spike monsters dragged something out of a doorway, on to the street. He quickly looked away, closing his eyes to try and block out the memory of the gruesome sight. They¡¯d seen much of that, in the hours of waiting. Aran doubted he¡¯d ever get the images and sounds out of his head. The screams had all gone quiet now, and if anyone else was alive out there, they were hiding, waiting it out like Aran and Melony.


    He kept watching for another hour, as the sun rose higher in the sky, approaching noon. Before going back inside, he laid out on his back, stretching. Looking up at the sky, he could almost block out the memories of the past 24 hours. As he lay there, he looked inward once more. The bindings throughout his body felt stronger now, and more mana flowed through them too. His whole body felt more alive than at any time in his life. Ironic, he thought, that he felt this way after so much death. The deaths of the creatures didn¡¯t really bother him, they had been trying to eat him after all. But the thought that he was capable of so much violence felt odd, like it was someone else. He¡¯d never once hurt anyone or anything in his life before the events of the past day, and he didn¡¯t really want to hurt the monsters. He sighed. He doubted he¡¯d resolve any personal qualms about killing those things while they were still trapped. That was practically asking for some sort of psychological break.


    He started to get up to head back downstairs, when he noticed the trail snaking across the sky. His eyes widened. It must be a military plane, maybe they were finally here! He squinted to get a better look, but the actual plane was barely a speck it was so far up. As he watched, the plane passed over the center of the city, and slowly grew more distant, white trails marking it¡¯s path.


    The light nearly blinded him, it was so bright. His eyes snapped shut, but still it shone through his eyelids, as if some vengeful god had moved the sun to just above the city center. It was far enough away that the sound reached him before the blast, like a clap of thunder reverberating in his skull. His body reacted before he did, mana surging across his body, pulsing into every strand, forcing more and more into them as the fireball expanded. He watched as a ripple of force blasted buildings apart, rushing towards him. Aran screamed, the sound drowning in his throat as the shockwave picked him up bodily. Wild energy raged across his body as he tumbled through the air. His mana was not enough to stop the damage from the blast, as his skin burned away, rapidly reforming even as it burned, the pain debilitating. Radiation flooded his body, searing his cells and the very fabric of his being. The wind of the blast roared in his ears, as debris battered him. The hot air seared his lungs, even as the air was knocked from them. Aran lost consciousness as he fell, the raging inferno carrying his limp body farther and farther. After several minutes, it was over, the city and all of the inhabitants were no more.

 Ch. 4 Ash

    When Aran drifted in and out of consciousness for hours, agony lacing every breath with fresh torment. As he lay there, buried up to his chest in rubble, more and more radiation slowly leached into his body. As the energy poured into him, it mixed with his natural mana, the pool of his reserves growing, becoming deeper, and more violent. After more than a day, his body was repaired, skin slowly closing over his wounds, and bones and tendons reforming.


    When Aran¡¯s eyes finally fluttered open, it was night. Coughing violently, he tried to sit up, only to find his movement restricted by the partially collapsed wooden wall covering him. He laid back and closed his eyes, forcing the claustrophobic panic down, and slowed his breathing. He was alive, and that was certainly¡­ something. He¡¯d seen enough movies and clips on the internet to know a nuclear bomb had just been dropped on the city, and he had survived it. Of the impossible things that had been happening lately, this stole the show. How had he survived? Glancing down, he looked over his dust and soot covered body. Brushing away some of the filth, scarring covered nearly every inch. His eyes widened. With this much scarring, there must not have been much skin left to regrow. Horror at how close he had been to utter annihilation welled up within him, tears flowing freely. He sobbed quietly, the sound echoing across the silent ruins around him.


    ---


    Eventually, he regained composure, and examined his surroundings more thoroughly. He was laying under a thin wooden wall, and if the grittiness he was feeling was any indicator, his clothes had not survived the blast. A bright moon lit the surrounding area, enough to see by. Around his small pile of rubble were a few still smouldering remains of small houses, some small fires still active within them. His pile looked to be laid up against what used to be a gas station. Besides the few buildings, the ground was mostly flat, and he couldn¡¯t see any taller structures. His view was blocked to the east, so he assumed he¡¯d been thrown all the way to the western edge of the city, judging by the wide open lots and the hills empty of anything he could barely make out in the distance. The waxing moon shimmered on the bay to the south.


    The chill of the night air made a shiver run up his spine, bringing him back to reality. He was naked, alone, in the middle of the night, in the radioactive ruins of his hometown. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. First things first, he needed to get out from under this wall. Luckily, the wall hadn¡¯t really had much of its weight resting on him, and shimmying his hips up freed enough of him to get some leverage, yanking his legs out with a grunt. With a sigh he stood, feet shifting on the various bits of building beneath him.


    A gentle breeze wafted in off the bay, the way it cooled his scalp immediately bringing his hand to his bald head. Just one more thing in a long string of disasters, he let it go. His hair hadn¡¯t been that great to begin with, and he needed to find shelter and clothes as soon as possible. Walking to the base of the rubble, carefully picking his way to avoid impaling his feet on broken glass, he circled around the closest building. It had indeed been a gas station, and by the looks of it, a small convenience store too. Luckily only most of the store was gone, and after digging through broken wood and a knocked over shelf, he found some food. A few undamaged packages of beef jerky, a prepackaged sandwich he hoped wasn¡¯t supposed to be refrigerated, and some candy.


    Aran sighed. So much for a hot meal, he thought. Still, more important was finding water. That was what all those books and shows about survival said, anyway. He¡¯d done quite a bit of research when he was younger, when he¡¯d wanted to run away. Never did though, did you? No, always came back when she cried for you. He shook his head, blocking out the memories. After digging through most of the remains of the store, he found 2 intact bottles of water, but nothing else worth salvaging. He gathered all his supplies together on the ground, a meager set if he¡¯d ever seen one. It would only realistically last him a day or two, maybe less. He needed clothes, too. He wasn¡¯t sure if the cold could really hurt him anymore, but best to be safe. Besides, he didn¡¯t want to be naked out here. There was nothing else worth salvaging in the shop, but there was at least a partial roof, and it would block some of the wind, so he decided to stay until morning. After moving a shelf and part of a door to create some walls, he opened some of the jerky, and nibbled a few bites. He would need to ration it for now, until he found more food. He took a small sip of water, closed his eyes, and waited for morning.


    ---


    When he woke to bright morning sunlight, he finally saw what was left of the city. He climbed to the top of his makeshift shelter¡¯s highest point to get a better view, crouching to block some of the wind from his naked body. The city was gone, and for the first time in years, it was completely silent, the only sound the sigh of the wind in his ears. From where he stood, he could just make out the edge of a crater where the bomb must have detonated. He estimated he¡¯d was roughly a mile from the edge of the initial impact. From what he remembered of the blast, in the moments before he passed out, the bomb went off near the city center, in the middle of what passed for a downtown. Welksfield had never been a big city, but in recent years the city had seen some growth due to some small tech startups bringing in younger business. Now it was all gone. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Aran sighed. How many people had still been trapped? How many who weren¡¯t lucky like him? He knew he¡¯d been extremely lucky, even with his body healing itself. If he¡¯d been any closer to the blast, he was under no illusion that he would have survived. Looking down at himself, he was still unsure of how he¡¯d survived. It had taken a lot of mana to repair his body after the spider monster had first mauled him, and he was sure he wouldn¡¯t have been able to just take a nuclear bomb blast.


    He looked inward for the first time since the bomb. The core of energy at his center was worlds apart from before, and for the first time, he could perceive it clearly. It looked like a swirling vortex of pale energy. As he looked closer, he noticed it wasn¡¯t a single continuous energy, but a light blue mixing with a sickly looking yellow, with the yellow being the dominant color by far. As they churned together, he noted the blue energy was slowly being absorbed by the yellow, the combination a bright green. A large portion of the energy had already been converted to green, while it did seem different, he couldn¡¯t really tell how. The yellow, he surmised, must be from the radiation. That there was so much of it wasn¡¯t surprising after the bomb, but that there was so much inside him was worrying. Radiation could kill you, and now he had a massive pool of it just steeping inside of him like some particularly dangerous cup of tea. Great, he thought, probably have like 15 kinds of cancer now.


    He chuckled a bit to himself. Could he even get cancer now? He honestly felt great, even with a miasma of poison swirling in his body. Even more surprising, he wasn¡¯t cold at all, naked as he was. He felt warm, like he¡¯d just sat next to a roaring fire.


    Still, he wanted clothes. If he eventually found any other survivors, he imagined being naked would make meeting them awkward. Climbing down off his little pile of rubble, he  carefully picked his way to the nearest likely looking rubble, what looked to be the remains of a house. Some of the walls remained, but large sections of the roof and walls cluttered the area. Moving inside, he started shifting debris out of the way, looking for anything that might still be serviceable.


    After an hour laboring moving the smaller bits of rubble, rifling through, his patience was rewarded. Under what used to be a garage door, he found a large dresser mostly intact. He nearly broke the first drawer in his excitement, spilling socks and underwear all over the ground. He immediately tried some of the boxers on, finding them an acceptable fit, if a bit loose around the hips. Scrounging through the rest of the drawers, he found some plain pants, and a white undershirt that fit reasonably well. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t been lucky enough to find shoes. He pocketed the socks anyway, figuring he could wear them at night if nothing else.


    He scrounged through the rest of the house, only finding an extremely rusty knife. It was brittle enough parts of it crumbled to the touch. Strangely, the handle looked nearly new, aside from some dust. He turned it over in his hands, flakes of rust falling from the movement. With a sigh, he tossed it to the side. A knife would have been extremely useful, especially if he was going to be on his own for a while. With a grimace, he moved to the next section of rubble, slowly sifting through the contents of what had been someone¡¯s life.


    Over the next few hours, he found a small backpack, and several more rusty tools and knives, but none in any better condition. He was beginning to wonder if the radiation had somehow accelerated the deterioration of the metal. He¡¯d never heard of such a thing, but he didn¡¯t really know all that much about nukes, to be honest. After a few more hours of digging, he decided to call it a day. The sun was nearly set, and he was having difficulty seeing anything anyway. Throwing his new jacket in his bag, he went back to his shelter. After digging all day, he was ravenous. He tore into a party sized bag of chips and some jerky, not even caring that the chips were entirely crushed. After wiping the crumbs off, he settled back and tried to relax. Thoughts about the future occupied his mind, however.


    Tonight he had eaten well enough, but that wouldn¡¯t last. He¡¯d run out of food soon, and he hadn¡¯t seen or heard another living thing all day, not even a bird or insect. He would need to find a new source of food, or other survivors soon or he¡¯d starve. He was on the northeast side of the city, but didn¡¯t think going north would be a good idea. He had no idea how long it would take to find people, and going north the weather would only get worse as winter approached. From what he could recall from looking online and school trips from years ago, the nearest town was south, about 30 miles. That would probably take him an extremely long time to walk, but hopefully he¡¯d find others outside of town on the way. He decided he¡¯d head south, and though that would necessitate around most of the city along the eastern edge, hopefully he¡¯d find either people or something to eat as he went.


    Satisfied with his plan, he looked inward to his mana again. The bright yellow was gone, replaced by a huge swath of green. There were still spots of blue throughout, though, and it didn¡¯t seem like any more radiation had been added. Aran sighed with relief. His body seemed to be able to repair from nearly anything, and hopefully the rest of his mana would be able to ward off any effects from the radiation as it was slowly purified. Tired, and finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel, he fell asleep.

 Ch. 5 Lost

    As Aran walked through the wreckage, occasionally stopping to dig around for anything useful, he could feel the air changing. He¡¯d taken a slightly angled route that morning, aiming to avoid the center of the city and hopefully find a clear path. As he¡¯d progressed, however, the air had begun to feel charged, and now it felt heavy and cloying, almost as if it was sticking to him. The hair on the back of his neck was on end, and the whole area felt wrong. He shook his head, trying to ignore the feeling, knowing it was likely leftover radiation. Not much he could do about that, and he needed to move quickly, so the shortest path south was the only one that made sense.


    As the hours passed, the weird sensation didn¡¯t let up, but Aran pressed on. He estimated he¡¯d made about 2 miles of progress since he set off. The debris and his route around the city were slowing him down. His plan had been to make the southern edge of the city by nightfall, but he¡¯d underestimated the distance greatly. At his current pace, he estimated it would take a whole nother day to reach the southern tip. He looked to the west, at the mostly empty center of the city. The radiation at the center would probably be worse, but he could probably make it through the center in a few hours. And he was still feeling perfectly healthy, so maybe however his mana healed him could protect him. He looked south east again, at the miles of debris in his way. Making up his mind, he headed towards the center of the city.


    The feeling in the air grew noticeably more oppressive the closer Aran got to the center of the blast, but he pushed on, increasing his pace to a quick walk now that most of the area was blasted flat. As he neared the center, the ground started to slope down, forming a wide crater. The almost physical pressure in the air increased more and more quickly now, and Aran could feel himself starting to tire. Pushing mana throughout his body helped keep him going, but a sense of dread was starting to grow in his mind. He was making good progress, but he could feel more of the radiation working its way into him. Looking up, he could see the far side of the crater now, though it was still over a mile. He spared a thought to check on his mana, and immediately broke out into a jog. There was very little of his natural mana left, and all of it was circulating through his body, trying in vain to block the insidious radiation out.


    He was sweating now, and it felt like his veins were filling with lead as his reserves started to run dry. Soon he would be unable to slow the radiation at all, and circulating it seemed like it would only make it worse.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he mumbled, voice ragged. He¡¯d never been a runner, never exercised much at all, coasting on a naturally fast metabolism, and it was really coming back to bite him now. He tried to push himself faster, to at least get across most of the crater before his reserves ran dry. He could probably still recover if he could find people and medicine, but he had to get out of this damn crater. He looked up, hoping, but the edge still didn¡¯t seem any closer than before.


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    He pushed harder, gasping for breath, vision clouding from lack of oxygen. He pushed like this for another minute before he reached his limit. He pulled up, chest heaving, eyes wide. He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself, and lurched forward, vomiting. He coughed, trying to breathe past the bile, only forcing another hiccuping lurch, and more vomit. Aran collapsed to his knees, cold sweat running down his back, tears swimming in his eyes. His breath was steadying, but his body felt like a wrung out dish towel, limp and used up.


    He felt the last of his reserves run dry, the last of his mana devoured by the radiation inside him. His whole body was shaking, and he could feel more radiation seeping into him now, much faster than before. He looked at the rim of the crater through bleary eyes, knowing he wasn¡¯t going to make it. Out of options, he opened the floodgates to his now thoroughly radioactive core, hoping the mana would still give him the energy to move.


    He screamed. It felt like he was being burned alive and drowned in an ice bath, all at once. He fought to open his eyes through the pain. He tried to stand, but it was futile, his limbs would not obey. His nerves were on fire, every movement, everything that touched him burned. He dug his hands into the ashes, dragging himself forward. The pain did not ebb, he screamed with each breath. He tried to stop the mana, to halt its raging throughout his body, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with his hands. The poisoned mana raced through him destroying his body and building it back again and again. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on only moving forward, but it was not darkness that greeted him. The blood vessels in his eyelids were lit up like a nightclub, dull green light highlighting a spider web of agony.


    Aran was hyperventilating, mind racing. The pain muddled his mind, making coherent thought impossible. He could feel the radiation poisoning him, curdling his body like old milk. He stopped moving, the pain was too much. He stared down at his hands, bloodied and covered in ash. Even the blood seeping out from under his broken nails was the same dull green, softly glowing in the twilight haze. He let out a broken sob. The skin around the cuts had gone grey and lifeless as the ash around it. He watched, transfixed and unable to muster any kind of energy to move, as the decay spread over his skin.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    As the poison killed his cells, mana surged into them, hardening his skin like bark. As it traveled up his arms, cracks formed, each one heralding another hoarse scream as more dark green ichor spilled out. His blood hardened and filled the gaps quickly, leaving dark scars crossing his body. He could feel the corruption flowing under the skin as well, bones and organs burning as it flowed over them. As the poison reached his face, he lost all reason and screamed as it burned his throat and up into his skull. He screamed and screamed, begging to black out, to just let it end. As it reached his eyes, they burned away, melting into little more than puddles, Aran reached new heights of horror, clawing at his face and eyes in a frantic bid to halt the pain and sudden blindness. The flesh in his sockets boiled and bled, solid dark green orbs forming in place of his former white sclera. Finally too much, Aran¡¯s mind mercifully shut down, blocking out sensation completely, and his body lay there comatose, as the poison finished its terrible work.


    ----------------------


    The room seemed to vibrate, and the air was viscous, like moving through water. Aran was back in the apartment he shared with his mother, straining towards the door to his room. He could hardly breathe, the pain in his chest nearly unbearable. With a monumental effort, he reached the door, grasping the door knob as he slumped to his knees. Looking up, the knob seemed miles away, and his arms far too heavy to move. His hands, sweaty with effort, slipped as he tried to turn the knob, far more resistant than it should have been. Bracing himself, he reached up once more, stretching for what felt like hours to reach it once more. Palming the door knob in one hand, and bracing against the frame with the other, he twisted. The door vibrated as he turned, sounding like screeching metal vibrating through his whole body, until with a soft click, the door suddenly came free, and he rocked back, the door swinging wide.


    Breath rasping, he pulled himself to his feet. The hallway beyond seemed to thrum with his heartbeat, flickering around the edges of his vision. He stumbled out the door, past several doors, more than he remembered in their small apartment. He struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, but he was too tired to care. He pushed through the exhaustion, turning into the living room, gasping. The edges of the room seemed to fade away, the room shaking even more violently than the hall. Cold light streamed in through the window, facing the city, landing on a dusty recliner. A small ashtray sat on an end table to the left, wisps of smoke drifting off of it. His mother¡¯s lank mop of hair rested against the top, facing the open window. A raven perched on the headrest, staring at Aran as he entered. He froze. The bird¡¯s head cocked, looking at him with what felt like amusement, and¡­ pity? He shook his head, trying to clear the fog. The bird jolted into the air, disappearing out the window.


    ¡°You made my little friend abandon me, you worthless boy. Intend to make sure I never have any company?¡± His mother''s voice rasped from the chair. Aran nearly jumped out of his skin.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving. They¡¯re going to bomb this place, I think. Or¡­ they did? I¡¯m leaving. You should too,¡± he muttered, going quiet at the end.


    She cackled, violently. ¡°Idiot. Why would they bomb the city?¡± She shoved the chair, turning to face him. ¡°We¡¯re all already dead anyway.¡± Her corpse looked back at him, eyes bloody holes where he realized the raven had pecked them out. Her skin was in tatters, her clothes burned away, as her blackened organs spilled out onto the chair. The remaining muscle pulled taught around her mouth, pulling the face into a horrible facsimile of a smile. Aran tried to scream, but the air caught in his throat. He stumbled back into the hall, away from the horror in front of him. Anything to get away from that thing in the chair. He turned, sprinting for the door to the apartment, the distance seeming to stretch. He heard the springs in the chair creak, as that abomination stood.


    ¡°This is your fault!¡± It screamed.


    He could hear it moving, getting closer. He choked out a frantic sob, running as hard as he could, but getting no closer to the door. He heard the clacking of bone and the drip of blood behind him. He screamed, slamming into the door. Fumbling with the deadbolt, he could smell it now, the scent of decay choking. He ripped open the door with a yell, and pulled it tight behind him. His breath came in ragged gasps, filling his lungs with cold air, leaning against the door frame.


    He managed to catch his breath, straightening and turning. He wasn¡¯t in the hall of the apartment building. He stood in a massive expanse of white snow, just a few inches here, but he could see massive drifts rising in the distance. He shivered, noticing the wind biting at him. He didn¡¯t bother looking back, anything was better than being trapped inside with that thing. He bundled his arms up, bracing against the wind in the light hoodie he just noticed he was wearing. He started walking, only looking up to scan the grey sky for the raven flying overhead.


    Aran didn¡¯t know how long he walked, it didn¡¯t seem to matter. He tried to stick to a single direction, but tracking around the large snow drifts made him sure he¡¯d lost any track of direction after just a few hours. Each time he looked up, the raven was there, always gently floating on the wind, pointing the same direction. The raven, at least, seemed to know where it was going, so Aran figured it was as good an indicator as anything else.


    Nothing seemed to change, no matter how long Aran walked. The cool grey twilight never grew brighter or darker, and the weather never seemed to change, other than occasional change in direction of the wind. He just trudged on, for what felt like days. Measuring time seemed futile, but when he¡¯d finished humming the 18th repetition of ¡°Can¡¯t Buy Me Love¡±, the raven let out a caw! shattering the stillness of the plain. The sound sent a flash of anxiety through Aran¡¯s body as he instinctively crouched, looking up. The raven wasn¡¯t above him anymore, instead diving rapidly to the left, until it was hidden by a massive drift. Looking around for any other changes, Aran stood. Might as well see. He strode towards the drift, skirting around to the right. He was not prepared for what he found on the other side.


    The raven was there, sitting astride a door. Or, more accurately, the frame around a door, he supposed. This was not the same door he¡¯d come here through, thank God. Or Judges? Unimportant. The door looked inviting, there was no other way to describe it. It looked¡­ nice. Aran glanced at the raven, eyeing him from atop the doorframe. ¡°This better not lead to me dying or to some afterlife crap,¡± he said. The bird ruffled its feathers, seeming offended at the suggestion. ¡°Fine. Can¡¯t be worse than stumbling around forever.¡± He grasped the handle, noting how warm it felt, even in the biting cold. As he pulled open the door, the raven cawed once more.

 Ch. 6 Wake

    Aran lay there a long time while his unconscious mind tried to piece itself back together. He drifted in and out, as the sun rose and set several times, but he was never lucid enough to notice time¡¯s passage. The snow was what woke him, finally. The cold had seeped into him, sharpening his perception as his mind shook itself awake. At first he just continued to stare up, at the soft white flurries floating down on him in the grey light of morning. A memory in the back of his mind was urging him to wake, to move, and he finally snapped awake, remembering where he was. He sat up with a jolt, the sudden movement disorienting after so long sedentary. He braced himself with a hand, slowly shaking his head to clear his mind.


    He looked around, slowly recalling he was still in the crater, and what had happened. For a moment fear gripped him as he realized he was probably still being poisoned by radiation, but after a moment, he realized he could feel nothing in the air, no corruption seeping into him. Aran looked inward, confused. His core was, well not gone, but completely different. His whole body felt like it was his core of mana now. There was no separation, no way to push it into his body anymore, because there was nowhere to push from. And all of his mana was changed, still the dark green poison, but it no longer felt like it was poisoning him. He allowed himself a small smile. His gambit had worked, and the mana had still healed him. Done a lot more than healed him, really. His mana seemed to be everywhere now, not just linking every part of his body, but filling it. His blood seemed to be completely mana now, but he wasn¡¯t sure. He looked down at himself, seeing his ashen skin and the dark green scars littering it, souring his mood.


    ¡°Must look like a walking corpse now,¡± he thought to himself. Truth be told, he was surprised he wasn¡¯t a corpse now. With a start, he remembered the snow. It was falling softly now, but no telling if a storm was coming and there was no way he wanted to be caught in that. He slowly climbed to his feet, testing his legs to make sure he was steady. Surprisingly, he felt great, better than before, even. He dug around in the snow, looking for his bag. It had fallen off while he was rolling around in the dirt, and it had all of his food in it. Snatching it out of the snow, he opened it up to check on his supplies. All the chips had been crushed, unsurprisingly, but the jerky in its packaging looked as good as ever. He considered eating some now, as he hadn¡¯t eaten since collapsing, but found he wasn¡¯t hungry. ¡°Mana must have topped me off or something,¡± he mused. Putting his supplies away, he looked up at the rim, trying to find his direction from before. With the sun hidden by clouds, and having no idea what time of day it was, he chose a direction with some educated guessing, and pushed his way to the rim.


    After about half an hour of trudging through increasingly deep snow drifts, Aran reached the edge of the crater, high enough to see the bay, putting him not too far off from his original path. With a grin, he tightened the straps on his bag and pushed south. After a few hours of walking, the sky had begun to darken, and the wind had picked up. Recognizing the signs of a blizzard, Aran hurried to the remains of a small office building, mostly intact. Stepping in through a broken window, he found a door to a small back office with only a small intact window to help seal in the heat. He settled in, sliding a large desk against the door, just in case. As he sat down on the threadbare carpet in need of a serious cleaning, he took off his bag and relaxed, reflecting on his journey so far. If not for the snow he would have kept on walking, he still felt great, not tired at all. Looking down at his scared arms, he realized with a start he wasn¡¯t wearing a coat. He hadn¡¯t felt cold at all, and he¡¯d only just realized he¡¯d been completely comfortable the whole trek since waking. Aran grinned. The changes from the radiation didn¡¯t seem so bad after all, even if his skin was grey and weird. Thinking about the radiation suddenly made him remember something, and he gingerly touched the top of his head. With a loud sigh of relief, he realized his hair was still there, though it seemed longer than he remembered.


    He considered having some jerky, but he still wasn¡¯t hungry. Still, he thought, better eat while I have a chance, who knows if I¡¯ll find more food on the way. Tearing off a piece of jerky, he popped it in his mouth. He only got one chew in before retching and spitting it out. The jerky had tasted like ash, like the most overdone, burnt meat he¡¯d ever eaten. He scraped the rest off his tongue, and noticed it looked far darker, strange even in the dim light of the office. Holding it up to the light from the window, it was black. He stared. Pulling the rest of the jerky into the light, it looked fine. On a hunch, he stuck out his tongue, placing the jerky onto it. Immediately, the taste turned bitter, and he watched as the jerky rotted to black ash. He glared at the jerky, throwing it across the room. He tried with two more sticks of jerky, both with the same result.


    ¡°Great. Just lucky enough to survive, just unlucky enough to somehow destroy food now,¡± he muttered to the darkening room. It had to be the influence of the radioactive nature of his body now, he supposed. He glared down at his hands. Fuck. Guess I¡¯m not really that hungry anyway. He lay back against the cold cinderblock wall, and shut his eyes, letting a dreamless sleep take him.


    He woke, bleary eyed, to the sound of wind battering against the glass of the small window. Annoying. He grunted, extricating himself from his contorted position against the wall, and opening bleary eyes. He looked around the room, noting the shadows flickering against the wall lit in blue light.


    Wait.


    He looked at the wall again, the smooth white cinderblock wall was definitely blue. He twisted and stood, looking out the small window, and his breath caught in his chest.


    The sky was alive. Across the roiling storm clouds, ribbons of blue light swept and flashed brightly, sweeping in graceful arcs before fading. The entire sky was lit by the strange lights, and the clouds even glowed from within with the same blue light. Aran stood a little higher, pushing up against the glass to get a better view.


    As the wind had picked up, the snow left on the ground had shifted, billowing in small flurries in the magical wind. The light reflected off the snowflakes, creating a shimmering field of tiny stars as far as the eye could see. As he watched, the ribbons of light in the sky drew a little closer, in what he could only describe as a dance. Each light seemed to have a rhythm to its movement, scintillating across the clouds, and sometimes they crossed paths, corkscrewing around each other before splitting and vanishing. They seemed to be alive, even joyous, in their dance across the sky.


    His gaze held him there, entranced by the beauty of the storm. Gradually, the storm passed him by, light slowly fading back to the twilight of pre-morning. He slumped to the ground as the last of the light disappeared, heart hammering in his chest, taking a shuddering breath. Incredible. That was the only word for it, really. He had no idea what he¡¯d witnessed, but he doubted he¡¯d ever forget it. He smiled, slowing his racing heart. ¡°So much for sleep,¡± he whispered to the empty room, shattering the silence accumulating in the wake of the storm.


    He stood, gathering his backpack, and what he suspected was now useless food. He quietly removed the barricade from the door, listening for any movement on the other side. He had no intention of walking into the waiting embrace of any more horrors. After several minutes of waiting, he opened the door as quietly as possible, peering into the hall. Nothing stirred in the dark recesses of the building. He strained his eyes against the dark, searching for anything that didn¡¯t look like building or rubble. Satisfied, he opened the door fully, stepping out from his little cave. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Bare feet whispering against the accumulated dust, he slipped out the same way he¡¯d entered, facing east. Turning to the right, he picked his way forward, slower than before, with the light of dawn still a ways off. The street signs were long gone, but today he hoped to make it to the highway, and its straight path south. For the next 2 hours, he continued, making quick progress where the snow hadn¡¯t formed a layer obscuring the ground, and shuffling when it did, gradually moving west along his southerly direction, searching for the tell tale swell of the highway.


    With the advent of dawn, he increased his pace, no longer as worried about missing a sign of the highway in the dark. It was midmorning by the time he found it, swathed in snow, a few cars abandoned on the shoulder. He jogged up to them, hope flaring. As he approached, he frowned. These cars looked positively ancient. The windows on a few still remained, but all of them were rusted out heaps, tires crumbling. He dragged a finger across a door, the metal disintegrating at his touch. He pulled on a door, the hinges screaming as it came free easily, making him flinch and immediately stop to listen. The gentle breeze of the morning, and the rustle of snow shifting beneath his feet were the only sounds. Letting out a weary breath, he turned back to the small sedan, looking for anything of value.


    After searching the glovebox, center console, and underneath the seats, he grunted in frustration. Some bits of paper and a phone charger were the only fruits of his search, all worthless. He popped the trunk, again listening for any response or sign that something else had heard, before continuing. Inside he found a mug, which he unhesitantly swiped. Looking at the other cars, he quietly searched the rest. He found a pair of old work boots in the backseat of a truck, but they were far too small, so he abandoned them in disgust. He shook his head, looking down at his feet. Not that he really needed the boots, he supposed. The cold hadn¡¯t bothered him since he woke up in the crater, and he was getting comfortable walking barefoot, like some sort of wandering monk from a story. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Best get on with it.


    He turned from the small group of cars, and started walking, taking a deep breath of the brisk air, sharp with the scent of winter. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he set a slow, meandering pace down the road, avoiding snow drifts when possible.


    It was afternoon when he heard it. A soft swish sound from up ahead on the road. Aran immediately stopped, squatting to keep low. The sound did not repeat. Heart slamming in his eardrums, he took a single step to the left, hoping to circle around. The snow crunched beneath his foot, and a snow drift shivered about 30 feet in front of him. Aran froze, holding his breath in fear.


    The snow drift slowly shifted, rising and twisting back towards him. Aran only caught a glimpse of a glowing blue eye in the center of the mass before he turned and sprinted for the side of the road, and the trees beyond the embankment. A low hum filled the air, undercut by the sound of snow rasping along the cement as the strange thing moved with startling speed, cutting him off and forming a long, low wall of snow before him. Moving on instinct, Aran lept, aiming to clear the creature. The mass of snow was faster, though. Immediately, a tendril of snow whipped up, solidifying into a club of ice, swatting him back out of the air, driving the air out of him. Aran landed with a huff, gasping for breath as he scrambled to his feet. He clutched at his chest, feeling cracks in his brittle skin through his shirt. He felt mana surge to fill the gaps, his breathing easier.


    He glared at the monster, searching for the eye, picking it out the bright blue spot at the crest of a low mound along the wall now encircling him. ¡°Eyeball in the middle of a blob of snow? As if that¡¯s not the most obvious weak spot,¡± he muttered, thanking his stars he¡¯d grown up with a generation obsessed with video games. He bolted straight at the eye now, and instead of jumping over the wall like before, lowered his body and attempted to tackle the creature.


    The eye shot to the side as he landed, moving through the snow like water. Aran landed hard, slamming into the snow, his momentum arrested by the much stiffer snow, nearly solid it was so dense. He grunted, trying to get his hands under him, as the snow gathered in a wave, sweeping over him. He rolled to the side, flinging himself farther with a shove to the ground. Surging to his feet, he swiveled, trying to find the eye again. He found it, farther away now, as the snow monster seemed to have learned from its previous mistake. He took another step forward, intending to try getting the eye again, as a club of ice smashed into him from behind, sending him tumbling. He coughed out a grunt of pain as the air was again driven from his lungs as he slammed into the ground. Right, surrounded. His backpack had absorbed much of the blow, but he could feel mana pulsing across his back. He attempted to stand once more, but hearing the whistle of wind across ice, he rolled to the side as another club slammed into the ground, sending dirt flying.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± he dodged another strike from above, rolling forward this time, coming up into a crouch, just in time to catch another blow to the chest. Falling back, his hands slipping on the icy ground, the hits came in quick succession now. He felt mana flowing across nearly his whole body now, as his arms protected his head from the blows raining down. His body was repairing itself, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Fear welled up within his mind, pulling him back to the days before. Back to the days of his mother¡¯s reign of terror, his mind submerging into a place of shelter. Built of his will, his consciousness drifted, body still being battered, as the snow monster slowly started to envelop him.


    ----


    He was in the dark, in the hallway again, frost creeping up the walls. He could hear the creaking of the chair in the living room as he was pulled along, unable to resist, until he reached the doorway. Turning, he could see her now, the decrepit form facing him, empty eye sockets glaring at him even as ice crept up her face. Worthless, she screamed soundlessly. He tried to back away, but the room seemed to pull him in, towards her, and he knew that would mean only pain and death.


    Reaching deep, he grabbed the doorframe, anchoring himself, pulling away. NO! She screamed, voice sending shivers down his body. You will be punished! You deserve this! He shook his head, and remembered. Remembered walking out of here, remembered surviving nightmares and living through a nuclear explosion. He let go of the door. He could feel his body stirring. He looked down at his hands, noticing the grey, splintered and cracked skin, with bright green light shining from within. He raised his gaze, and strode towards her. What?! What are you doing, boy? Given up hope finally, realized you¡¯re worthless?


    He reached her, noticing how small she was up close, sitting in the chair. No. He reached out, hand grasping her neck, bare tendons and bone sliding in his grip. I have been through too much. I will not give to you. Icy frost crept of his fingers, as his grip lost some of its strength. Her face shifted, grotesque grin spreading as a laugh echoed in his mind. Anger flared within him, and green light blazed into life from him, pouring out from every crack, as his eyes lit up with rage. He focused his will, and pushed. The frost retreated back, slowly, then all at once. Green veins, burning with light, raced up her body, as the body began to crumble. Aran heard her screaming fade, and opened his eyes.


    He was still on his back, surrounded by a cave of snow. He held his hand aloft, gripping the glowing eye of the monster, as green fiery lines crept across its surface. He snarled, pulling the orb closer as he grabbed it with his other hand, the snow around him starting to crumble. He could feel the creature within the eye, could feel its fear and its hunger, even as it resisted him. As his mana slowly crept along it, he could feel himself getting stronger, could feel himself devouring the creatures energy with his own. With renewed focus, he poured more and more mana into the beast, green light shining from his body and the eye as it was slowly consumed. With a final scream he could feel in his soul, the orb exploded, as a pulse of energy washed over him, the snow around him falling to the ground in a puff.


    Aran sat up, eyes wide. He¡¯d just consumed that thing, or at least its energy. He wasn¡¯t sure. He could still feel the way energy had flowed into him even as he pushed his mana into the thing. He glanced down at his arms, as the green light dimmed, leaving only the dark cracks in his skin, like scarred veins. He grinned. Magic, I guess. He looked around, to see if the eye had left any remains, but found nothing. He shrugged. Guess it doesn¡¯t like that. Makes sense, I kind of¡­ ate it? Probably best not to think too hard about it. Turning thoughts of his weird ability aside, he turned back to the road.


    Hope there''s not more of those things, he thought. He looked up at the sky, edging into late afternoon. Only one way to find out though. He grinned, and kept walking.

 Ch. 7 Silent Night

    As Aran walked, he reflected on all that had happened since the morning the obelisks fell. As he considered the horrors he¡¯d witnessed, he found it odd he wasn¡¯t simply sobbing in a corner. When he concentrated, he could feel the terror threatening to consume his thoughts, but it felt muted, distant. He frowned. Not that I particularly want to feel helpless, but I should, shouldn¡¯t I? This doesn¡¯t feel like my own emotions, it feels like their¡­ pushed back?


    He shook his head. Not really anything to do about it, and not being a taught ball of nerves and fear wasn¡¯t really a problem, in this case. Still, something to investigate. He¡¯d felt more in control since waking up after the explosion than he had in his entire life, and that in itself was concerning.


    Aran kept his eyes on a swivel, searching for any sign of movement in the snow as he walked, the highway disappearing in a bend through the woods ahead. The wind had picked up, and barest hints of more snow were twirling in the air. With his cautious pace, he hadn¡¯t made as much progress as he¡¯d wanted, and with the gray cloud cover, the late afternoon sky was darkening far earlier than he¡¯d hoped. He wasn¡¯t sure on the exact distance to the next town, but felt sure it couldn¡¯t be much farther, he¡¯d walked for miles without so much as a rest stop to break up the lines of trees edging the road.


    As the sky continued to darken however, he was forced to consider the idea he might be sleeping in the woods tonight. He had no source of light, and did not relish the thought of stumbling into another of the snow monsters in the dark. Snow drifts were getting harder to discern, and snow was falling now, making continuing a foolish prospect. He figured he could climb a tree as a last resort, but a car would make a much better shelter if he could find one. He hadn¡¯t seen any in several miles, but with the amount of snow on the ground, he figured they might be buried. At a particularly large drift some 15 feet tall, he spent the remaining light digging. After 30 minutes digging, and shaking snow out of his shirt, he gave up. Grimacing, he looked to the side of the road. Tree it is then. It took him longer than he cared to admit, wading through the snow, to find a tree that seemed suitable. He hadn¡¯t climbed a tree in years, so he found a pine with limbs that looked strong enough to hold him, and started climbing. It was surprisingly easy, his tough skin letting him ignore the scraping bark he remembered from childhood. Swinging up into a branch where the trunk split, forming a natural seat, he let out a sigh. He had a clear view of the road from his vantage point, and felt reasonably safe from anything that might be stalking the woods tonight. Draping his looted jacket over himself as he leaned back, he drifted off.


    ---------


    The soft crunch of snow woke him. He was instantly on alert, eyes darting to the ground below him, but he quickly realized the sound came from the road. He pulled his legs up, slipping his jacket on quietly as possible while keeping an eye on the road. He could see lights, very small from this distance, but the wind had dropped, and the sound of movement in the snow sounded clear in the night. The lights seemed to be in a cluster fading back and forth as they moved from side to side on the road. They appeared to be moving north, in the direction Aran had come from. They hadn¡¯t yet reached his point in the road, but he decided to climb down anyway. His heart thumped in his chest. It was too much to hope these were people, and not some monster hunting in the night, but either way he didn¡¯t want to be stuck in a tree when they reached him.


    As quietly as he could, he began lowering himself down. The wood was slick, however, and on one of the last branches, his bare foot slipped. He fell, catching himself in the gut on the branch, limb creaking as the pine needles rustled, sounding like a gunshot in the still night air. Aran¡¯s heart felt like it was coming out of his ears, it was hammering so hard. He looked out past the needles now, the lights all shining in his direction, unmoving. The silence was deafening as he lay there, perfectly still. He strained his ears, in a silent standoff with the lights.


    No matter what the lights are, they know I¡¯m here. He grit his teeth. He couldn¡¯t call out, if it was a monster it would only lead it straight to him. The silence stretched out endlessly, as he hovered between calling for help, running like hell, or staying where he was. A sharp tug on his leg pulled him out of his thoughts, the tree, and onto his back with grunt. He tried to yell, but a sharp jab to his throat cut off his air as another covered his mouth, a dark figure crouching over him, pinning his arms down. His terror would make itself known, however, as he choked and a whine escaped his lips. The figure pressed on his mouth harder, leaning down to within a hair''s breadth of his face. So close he could see the faint light reflecting off the whites of its eyes.


    In a voice so quiet, he almost wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d heard it, the figure whispered ¡°Shut it!¡± The voice stunned him to stillness, staring up at a face he could now see was masked in cloth. The figure slowly removed their hand from his mouth, and when he made no move to make any more noise, pulled out an object seemingly from nowhere. Lifting the object, they manipulated the front surface, opening up shades on what Aran now recognized as a lantern, the light nearly blinding him as the figure rapidly opened and closed the shutters, pointing at the other lights. After a few moments, flashes answered from the other lights. This seemed to satisfy the figure, as they stood soundlessly, and moved off of him. He scrambled to his feet, the figure flinching at the noise, raising a finger to hidden lips in a sharp gesture. He shrugged in a way he hoped looked apologetic. The figure turned, shaking it¡¯s head and ducked beneath the low-hanging branches, heading for the other lights.


    Aran couldn¡¯t bring himself to care all that much that he was making noise, he¡¯d found people! He¡¯d begun to worry he was the last human on earth, what with all the burned out cars straight out of an apocalypse movie. Aran practically shuffled through the snow quickly to catch up with the figure, now dark against the snow in the dim moonlight, partially overcast by clouds. It was only when he got close again, that he noticed how short the figure was. He cocked his head, staring at them as they led the way, watching the distinctly feminine walk. He couldn¡¯t help but feel a little heat in his cheeks, that so small a person was so easily able to get the best of him and pin him down. The pinning now took on a slightly different feel in his mind as his mind started walking down a different path. He shook his head quickly. Just found people and already a horny asshole? Come on man! To distract himself, he looked at the other lights, which were slowly resolving into a group of dark huddled figures standing in the road. As they reached the group, in the light of their partially shuttered lanterns, he counted 4 more figures, most of them with eyes studying him from behind similar cloth masks. Each of them wore thick, dark clothes that looked warm, with a practical cut. The one he¡¯d arrived with whispered quietly with another, both of them glancing his way. After a few more minutes, the other figure waved back up the road with a series of hand gestures, and without a word, the group started moving. Aran stared at the figure that had found him, following quickly when they motioned for him to follow.


    Aran could hardly contain the questions burning in his mind as they walked, but kept his mouth shut after he received another glare for stepping too loudly in the snow. It looked like they''d be walking for a while, so he worked on getting a list of questions ready for whenever they arrived¡­ wherever it was they were going. He assumed the town; Burville, I think? But couldn''t be sure.


    So, questions:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Why was a bomb dropped on me? Were bombs dropped in other cities? </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Are there monsters attacking everywhere, or are there safe places? </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Is the government still standing? </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Why are these people out in the middle of the night in the snow? </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Is there magic everywhere now? Can people fly? </li>


    </ul>


    Aran pondered over the last question. He doubted he''d have enough time in a week to think of all the questions to ask about magic, let alone however long this walk would take, and settled for asking for an explanation of what they knew about it so far. Satisfied with his list, at least for the moment, he continued with a bit more vigor in his steps with his newfound companions.


    It was several hours of slow walking before they rounded a bend in the road, and the hazy light of predawn lit a massive wall. 30 feet tall in some places, it crossed the road, continuing into both to the east and west on either side, where the trees still brushed against it. Parts of the wall seemed thrown together of whatever materials were available, scrap metal and even some wood, while other sections were of what appeared to be completely smooth stone, as if it had been hewn in a single, massive piece. Aran stared, awestruck. They built a wall around the whole town in a week?! I bet they¡¯ve got some awesome wizard in there or something! The one who¡¯d rescued him grabbed his arm, dragging him forward as the group tightened up, surrounding him and watching in every direction, as one stepped forward.


    ¡°3rd Patrol, returning to report!¡± he shouted, cupping his hands to project over the wall. A moment passed, and a singular head popped up, staring at them.


    ¡°You¡¯ve returned with more bodies than you left with. I¡¯ll alert the Mayor.¡± There came the muffled sound of terse words on the other side of the wall, before a small door opened in the wall, well hidden, as Aran hadn¡¯t noticed a way in before. The group moved forward, and his rescuer poked him, prodding him forward. As they passed through the door, all of them visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping as they all removed their masks. Aran looked around, too shocked for words. The inside of the wall was anything but what he¡¯d expected. The houses nearest the wall were either ruined or demolished, leaving a flat span of earth nearly 60 feet wide between the wall and any standing structure. The other structures were all fortified, every window covered with wood or sheet metal, and no lights to speak of, even the streetlamps were gone, only the holes in the concrete marking they¡¯d ever been present. Turning back to the wall, it was even more impressive than he¡¯d originally thought, some 5 feet thick, and with a small platform running along the top and inside where the wall wasn¡¯t as wide. Several men and women were standing along the wall, all gazing outward. Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Uh. Wow,¡± he muttered.


    The one who¡¯d found him pulled down her mask, revealing pale skin and piercing blue eyes in the growing light. Dark hair spilled out of her hood, nearly invisible against her dark clothes. She locked eyes with him, a grim smile across her lips that didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°First time seeing the wall, huh? Only thing keeping the riff raff outta Burville, these days,¡± she said, her voice higher and softer than he would have thought, her eyes drifting over the motley expanse of stone and steel.


    ¡°Yeah. How¡¯d you build it? The stone all looks so smooth, did someone make it with magic?¡± He paused, slightly embarrassed at the fervor in his voice. She cocked her head as she turned to him.


    ¡°Well, yeah. Nobody here knows how to quarry stone with hand tools,¡± she chuckled. ¡°Some guy named Ben Crawford figured out earth magic (that¡¯s what he calls it), and built all those bits, and we filled in the gaps with whatever we could find. Took 2 weeks just to plug the gaps, then another week to actually make it strong.¡±


    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s so cool.¡± He stared at the wall, thinking how awesome it would be to make walls with magic. Building a house would take a snap of his fingers!


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty snazzy. Haven¡¯t heard of any other towns with one yet, but we haven¡¯t been in regular-¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± She stopped, looking up at his interuption. ¡°How long did you say it took?¡±


    ¡°3 weeks to get all the holes fille, I guess 3 and a half total including Ben¡¯s time to create the stone parts.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Aran¡¯s mind reeled. He couldn¡¯t have been out that long. It wasn¡¯t possible. The human body couldn¡¯t survive without food and water for weeks and it had definitely not been a week since he started walking here. ¡°Uh. So how long has it been, since the uh, the obelisks arrived?¡±


    ¡°Month and a half, why?¡± His eyes nearly came out of his head. A month and a fucking half? That shouldn¡¯t be possible? I know I¡¯ve had some head trauma, but surely I¡¯m not that bad at counting days! He stared down at his hands, shaking slightly.


    ¡°Holy shit.¡±


    ¡°You okay dude?¡± She said, leaning forward to look at his face.


    He jerked his head up, staring at her. She pulled back, eyes narrowing at the sudden movement. ¡°How long ago did the bomb drop on Welksfield?¡± She didn¡¯t answer at first, eyes still narrowed. ¡°How long?!¡± He yelled, on the verge of panic.


    ¡°A month and half! That was like, the day after the obelisks, right? Why the hell are you yelling?¡± She glared at him, but he was no longer paying attention. I was out for over a month? It must have happened when I fell in the crater, I was still eating, still getting hungry before then. It doesn¡¯t seem possible, but it didn¡¯t seem possible that I don¡¯t need to eat, and it certainly didn¡¯t seem possible that I consumed that ice monster¡¯s mana yesterday either. But¡­ was I just laying there for a month? That¡¯s so fucking creepy. I guess, it doesn¡¯t really matter. I¡¯ll have to make up some reason I have no idea what¡¯s going on though. Falling asleep in a crater for a month is probably more off-putting than I probably already am.


    ¡°Well? You gonna answer, or just stand there like a jackass?¡±


    Aran snapped back to the present, and the woman in front of him. ¡°Uh, sorry. I just haven¡¯t had a calendar in a while, and was surprised it had been so long.¡± She stared at him, eyebrow raised. ¡°Uh, and sorry for yelling in your face. Been a while since I had someone to talk to other than myself.¡±


    She kept her eyebrow raised, ¡°Yeah, it shows.¡± She relented, adding ¡°It¡¯s fine. By the way, my name¡¯s Alice.¡± She extended a gloved hand. Aran instinctively reached to grab it, finding her grip surprisingly firm through the thick leather. The touch was surprisingly comforting, after so long alone.


    ¡°I¡¯m Aran. I¡¯ve been alone pretty much since all this stuff started, so, can you tell me what all has happened? I mean, this place seems pretty well off, but my hometown got bombed.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit, you¡¯re from Welksfield?!¡± This seemed to get the other¡¯s attention, as several turned to stare at him, and the one who seemed to be in charge approached. Her outburst startled him, and as the leader approached, he now saw he was a man who looked to be in his 40¡¯s, dark skinned, with a shaved head and close-cropped beard. The man stuck out a hand, ¡°I¡¯m Rick Merbuck, 3rd patrol team. You said you were from Welksfield?¡± Aran took the hand, a bit intimidated by the man¡¯s bluntness.


    ¡°Uh, yeah. I¡¯m Aran, Aran Briggs, lived my whole life there.¡±


    ¡°Do you know of any other survivors or stragglers out there? You¡¯re the first we¡¯ve seen since the Judgement.¡±


    ¡°Uh, the what?¡±


    ¡°Oh, the Judgement, it¡¯s what we¡¯ve been calling the day when the obelisks dropped, and all this¡­ happened. The police station and City offices were alerted for refugees, but none arrived. Do you know if there were any survivors holed up anywhere? We haven¡¯t been able to get close enough, with all the radioactivity.¡±


    ¡°Wha- nobody? Nobody¡¯s made it here? Fuck. I mean, uh, I haven¡¯t seen anyone since the bomb, and before that¡­ I didn¡¯t see anyone besides Melody.¡± He looked down, taking a deep breath. ¡°No. I haven¡¯t seen anyone else at all, and I searched all over the city.¡± Rick looked at him sharply.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been in the city? Shit, kid, we need to get you decontaminated, ASAP!¡± He motioned to Alice. ¡°Get him to a shower immediately, and burn those clothes-¡±


    Aran interrupted, shouting ¡°Hey! These are all I¡¯ve got, you can¡¯t burn my stuff!¡±


    ¡°Kid, I¡¯m sorry, we¡¯ll get you some clothes, but you¡¯re walking around wrapped in cancer right now. I promise, we¡¯ll make sure you get some clothes. Besides, you don¡¯t even have shoes, I don¡¯t know how you haven¡¯t lost feet to frostbite yet, but we¡¯ll get you what you need.¡± The thought of shoes was a balm, and Aran admitted to himself a shower sounded. He probably smelled like death, the thought suddenly making him very self conscious.


    ¡°Okay. I could use a shower, anyway.¡± The small smile Alice quickly smothered let him know that he really needed a shower, apparently. She turned and led the way up the street, between more of the fortified buildings. As they walked, he decided to use the time to check off more items on the list. ¡°So, why was the bomb dropped on Welksfield? There were monsters, but I mean it seems like weird stuff was happening everywhere. Did you guys not get any?¡±


    Alice laughed darkly. ¡°Oh, we got monsters. But not right away, it was several days before anything started attacking us. It was just a few at first, ones and twos, but it caused a panic like you wouldn¡¯t believe. Anyone on their own, or anyone¡­ small enough to grab.¡± Her voice went quiet as she walked. ¡°More and more came, until you couldn¡¯t go outside without risking your life. A lot of people volunteered, and the police gave out guns, for all the good it did us. Some people, like Ben, discovered how to do¡­ magic. Still don¡¯t like saying that, even with all that¡¯s changed. But they''re the only reason we¡¯re alive.¡±


    ¡°So, do you and the other patrol¡­ people¡­ Have magic too? Sorry, do you guys have a name or like a rank or something?¡±


    She shook her head, ¡°Nothing like Ben, but we¡¯ve been training on his advice, and we can make ourselves hard to see. Stealthy. That¡¯s how I snuck up on you earlier. And we¡¯re just volunteers, really, we call ourselves Rangers.¡± Okay, now that¡¯s pretty cool. Little on the nose though, Aran thought to himself. ¡°We¡¯re here, this is our intake building. We set it up thinking there¡¯d be a ton of you, but¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°Well, regardless, just through the door you¡¯ll find several doors, each has a shower and a towel behind it. Make sure to leave your clothes outside the door, and I¡¯ll have someone stop by to drop off some new stuff for you.¡±


    Aran nodded his thanks, and stepped through the door, and while Alice hadn¡¯t lied, the truth was the shower stalls were rather ramshackle affairs made of whatever the town had been able to pull together, set in a large open space, which looked to have been a gymnasium in a past life. He shook his head, opening the first door and finding a small bench, started undressing. Ridding himself of his borrowed clothes, he dropped them outside the door, and for the first time since he¡¯d passed out in the crater, stopped and really looked at his whole body. With some relief, he realized he hadn¡¯t lost anything from the radiation, nor grown any extra bits. As he ran his hands over his grey skin with the strange patterns of black scars crossing it, he felt melancholy. Some people apparently got to be heroes, saving towns with earth magic, and he got turned into a grey freak. He heaved a sigh. No use just sitting here being sad about what I can¡¯t change. A shower ought to make me feel better. He moved into the shower area, and found what looked like an emergency shower from his old chemistry class. Turning the lever, he was immediately blasted by cold, bitter smelling water. He quickly scrubbed with the provided soap, unsure of how much water he¡¯d get. 5 minutes later, he opened the door to peak out, and found a neat pile of clothing, as well as a selection of boots in various sizes. He slipped on the soft cotton shirt, as well as the dark denim pants, both of which fit well enough. He savored the luxurious feeling of slipping on thick woolen socks before trying on the boots. They were obviously intended for hiking, and appeared handmade, oddly enough. Finding a pair that fit, he slipped on the included black coat, and stepped outside.


    He found another of the members of the patrol waiting for him, introducing himself as James. ¡°Nice to meet you. Uh, do I need to like, talk to anyone about a place to stay? I don¡¯t have any money¡­¡±


    James chuckled. ¡°Nah, we¡¯ll get you sorted. We¡¯re to report to the Mayor¡¯s office, they¡¯d like to hear more about what¡¯s going on in Welksfield. I¡¯d say we need to head straight there but¡­ are you okay? You look a little uh, grey.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh. Uh, yeah, I¡¯m fine, that''s just how I look¡­¡± Aran said, embarrassed, shoving his hands in his pockets.


    ¡°Oh shit, sorry dude, I just assumed when we found you that you were dirty. Uh. Fuck, that came out wrong-¡±


    Aran cut him off, ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡¯s fine. I know I look a little weird. Let¡¯s just go.¡± James nodded sharply, ready to distance himself from the topic. They walked quickly up the street, and looking around, Aran found he could see the wall in nearly every direction. ¡°How big is the walled-in area? I thought Burville was a lot bigger.¡±


    James shrugged. ¡°It used to be. The wall surrounds everything that¡¯s left. Monsters and fighting destroyed most everything else to the west and south.¡±


    Aran let out a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ wow that¡¯s pretty bad. How many people are still here?¡±


    ¡°About three thousand. We lost more than double that. But, we¡¯re keepin¡¯ on. You¡¯ll see, it¡¯s not so bad, with the wall. Plus, you¡¯ve got us patrolling outside.¡± James grinned reassuringly. Aran chuckled. ¡°If you say so. So, is the government sending aid? You guys seem to have held up pretty well, are there other places like this?¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t heard yet.  We¡¯ve been patrolling farther and farther, but haven¡¯t seen any sign of other groups of survivors, besides you. Phones stopped working a while back, and while we got power working for parts of the city, most is back to the dark ages. Internet went down around the same time as the phones, but luckily we¡¯ve been too busy to miss it, really.¡± Aran mulled that over as he followed. No phones, no internet? So, we¡¯re down to word of mouth. And a town as small as Burville, I doubt anyone¡¯s going to send help¡­ He refrained from voicing his concerns, as they walked up the steps to a large brick building, tall windows now sealed with storm shutters.

 Ch. 8 Finally, a Shower

    The first thing Aran noticed when he entered the building was brightness. The shower building had been lit from above by a single, large light, but the large foyer he entered now looked so normal it felt wrong, somehow. A pristine tile floor opened up from the entranceway, with an open second level above, with gleaming wooden railings. Alice was waiting near the door, slouching on a bench, head back with her eyes closed. As they entered, her eyes flashed open, and she yawned, stretching luxuriously as she stood. Aran felt his eyes wander, and snapped them up as she returned his gaze.


    ¡°Come on, this way.¡± She said with a wave, and turned, walking quickly. Aran jogged to catch up, surprised to find James following as well. Seeing his quizzical look, James answered the unspoken question. ¡°We¡¯re all supposed to report together, since our patrol found you. Plus, as soon as we finish the report, it''s straight to bed for me,¡± he added with a chuckle. Aran grinned in response. Alice led them down the hall to a large oak door where she pulled up short, rapping her knuckles on it twice.


    ¡°Enter!¡± A voice from within called. As they filed in, Aran saw the room was even nicer than the rest of the building, with polished hardwood floors, richly upholstered chairs and couches, and a large desk at the opposite end. Behind which sat a handsome man in his 50¡¯s grey hair accompanied by a crisp beard framing a shrewd face. He stood as they entered, smoothing the creases in his immaculate suit. Rick stood to the side of the desk, hands clasped behind his back in a pose that spoke of quiet confidence. As they approached, Aran watched as the other man¡¯s eyes took each of them in, brows drawing together for a split second when they landed on Aran.


    When they had all arrived at the desk, the man spoke in clipped tones. ¡°Good morning. I am Mayor George Ellis, newcomer. We¡¯ll get to your story in just a moment. Captain, please complete your report.¡±


    Rick snapped to attention, launching into the details of the previous night. They¡¯d been following the road, looking for supplies and survivors heading north, when they¡¯d seen tracks in the snow. When they heard a disturbance in the trees, Alice had gone to investigate, as their quietest member, finding Aran bent over a branch and looking like hell. Alice added in that anecdote. Rick finished the report quickly, and the Mayor sat, looking contemplative.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re from Welksfield then?¡± He asked, his gaze riveted to Aran. Aran squirmed under the gaze, suddenly worried this man would throw him out of the town if he didn¡¯t answer how he wanted. ¡°Uh, yeah- Yes. Sir,¡± he stammered out. ¡°And you¡¯ve been on your own for over a month out there? On your own? And apparently without shoes, in the snow.¡± The mayor peppered him with questions, rapidfire, leaning forward as he continued. ¡°While we¡¯re on the subject of you, where were you when the bomb fell? How did you manage to survive?¡±


    Taken aback, Aran stammered, unable to articulate. The mayor paused, patiently waiting for him to respond. Aran dropped his gaze, the steely blue eyes unnerving. ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve just been wandering, looking for other people this whole time. I found a gas station that still had food, and stayed there for a bit while I looked for more people. Then I¡­ stayed there for a while, then came south when I didn¡¯t find any more people.¡± The mayor sat, hands steepled before his face as he stared at Aran. ¡°And? You have not answered where you were during the explosion.¡± Aran¡¯s heart skipped a beat, as if his body was reprimanding him as well for his failure to answer. ¡°Oh, sorry. I¡­ was with a police officer, we had holed up from the monsters, when the bomb fell. I was on the roof, and I saw the explosion. It blew me off the roof, and I passed out. I woke up¡­ later, I¡¯m not sure how much later though. I was pretty beat up. Nobody was left when I woke up. After that, I just sort of wandered around, trying to find people, and food. Then I headed here, hoping to find Burville still standing.¡±


    The mayor sat back, drawing his brows together. ¡°You survived a nuclear bomb? Just¡­ survived it? You expect me to believe you just got blown away? Forgive me, but you can understand my hesitation to believe such a story. Tell me, did you have your¡­ unique complexion before the bomb?¡± Aran felt heat creep up his face. ¡°Um, no. This came¡­ after. I think the radiation, uh... I think it changed me.¡±


    ¡°That much is obvious I think, if we are to take you at your word. I think in the face of that, being shoeless in the snow doesn¡¯t really compare. Regardless, I have no evidence leading me not to believe you, even if I personally find your story utterly ridiculous.¡± Anger flushed within Aran. ¡°Why would I lie? Your people pulled me out of a tree and marched me here!¡± The mayor made a patting gesture with his hands, more patronizing than calming. ¡°I cannot fathom why anyone would spin a tale so ridiculous, but in these strange times, the ridiculous appears to be the normal, so for the time being, I will let the matter rest.¡± This was said with an air of finality, and suddenly the Mayor was back to business. ¡°If you intend to stay in Burville, you will earn your keep. Captain, ensure he is fed and clothed, and then you will have him join your next patrol. If he is capable of making it all the way here without being killed, he will make an excellent addition to our Rangers. Beyond that, Mr. Briggs, unless you have anything else, I believe the matter is closed.¡± Aran¡¯s eyes widened, unable to comprehend everything he¡¯d heard. ¡°Uh, what? I have to go back out there?¡± ¡°Yes, Mr. Briggs. Everyone in Burville must contribute. You obviously possess survival skills, so you will join our Rangers as a new recruit. If you are unable to fulfill those duties, we will find other work for you, or we will show you to the edge of our city.¡± Oh, shit, he thought. ¡°Captain, please escort our new recruit to where he¡¯ll be sleeping. Mr. Briggs, you have until tomorrow to finalize any decision you may have about staying. After that, we cannot afford to waste any resources on anyone who won¡¯t contribute.¡± With that, the mayor turned his gaze back to his desk, where he began reading a report, in an obvious dismissal. Aran opened and closed his mouth, trying to find some way out of this mess. I can¡¯t go back out there! I¡¯ve nearly been eaten, blown up, and fried by radiation! ¡°Uh, Mr. Mayor, I really don¡¯t think I¡¯m the right guy for being a Ranger. I mean, uh, I¡¯m sure someone else¡­¡± He trailed off as the Mayor looked back up at him. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not thrilled at the prospect, Mr. Briggs. But every able bodied person has to contribute to the common defense. You will serve, or we will be done with you. Think of this as a way of proving your intentions. If you are who and what you say you are, you will fulfill your duties, or the Captain will find a use for you. If you are not¡­¡± He let the insinuated threat hang in the air. Aran glared at him. He was starting to think he had been better off back in Welksfield, where nothing had bothered him. Better to be here though, he admitted to himself. At least here I can put a real roof over my head, and hopefully find out more about what¡¯s happening in the world. Maybe I¡¯ll be able to find more people, and then I won¡¯t have to man the wall. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do it.¡± The Mayor did not look up again, motioning to the Captain. Rick gave a quick salute, fist to chest, and turned toward Aran. Extending an arm, he herded Aran towards the door, Alice and James following.


    Aran¡¯s mind was so full of questions and fresh worries about having to go back outside the walls, he didn¡¯t realize they¡¯d left the building until they arrived at a squat, strange looking building. It wasn¡¯t until they¡¯d made it up the steps that it hit him. ¡°Was this building made with magic?¡± He asked, incredulous. Rick answered, ¡°Yeah. Mr. Callum built it for us, so we¡¯d have a centralized place for all the Rangers.¡± As they entered, Aran¡¯s jaw dropped. Every surface was stone, rough hewn on the walls, and perfectly smooth on the floors and ceiling. A central hallway dominated the view, with corridors branching to either side. ¡°Come on, 3rd Patrol¡¯s upstairs,¡± Rick said, taking the stone stairs to their left. Aran followed, unable to look at anything besides the incredible workmanship of the building, lit by several candles, and what looked like actual torches with strange holes in the ceiling directly above them. James chuckled, watching Aran. ¡°The holes are channels for the smoke, keeps the building from turning into a death trap. They¡¯re like miniature chimneys.¡± They arrived at the landing on the upper floor, turning to the right, and made their way to the end of a long hallway, a door to either side with a large ¡°3¡± carved into the stone beside both. Rick pointed to the door on the right. ¡°This is you. We¡¯ve got watch in 9 hours, so I suggest you get some rest. I¡¯m across the hall, Alice and James have the next two rooms. I realize you have questions, but we¡¯re all tired, and I¡¯d appreciate it if you could hold those until after we get some sleep. He didn¡¯t wait for an answer, turning and entering the room behind him. Alice and James likewise entered the doors just a few feet away. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Aran was left standing in the hall, alone. He took a moment to get his bearings, then entered his own room. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d expected, but certainly not this. A rough wooden bed stood to one side of a room longer than it was wide, with the bed taking up roughly half the width. A stone sink emerged from the wall, and a small hand mirror sat atop it, along with a plain toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. Aran ignored the rest of the room and immediately snatched up the brush and paste, feeling tears start to pool in his eyes. His lips trembled, as he placed a smear of toothpaste on the brush, and began brushing his teeth for the first time in more than a month. He ended up brushing 3 times, just enjoying the feeling of clean teeth. Surprisingly, the paste didn¡¯t turn to dust on his tongue, but he decided he didn¡¯t care why. Once he was satisfied with his mouth hygiene for the moment, he hesitantly picked up the small mirror. Turning it to see his reflection, he stared for a long time. His eyes, previously blue, had turned a dark emerald green. As he studied them closer, he saw that even the blood vessels had turned green, giving them a truly alien appearance. The skin of his face was much the same as the rest, though without the many scars he¡¯d accumulated across the rest of his body. His eyebrows and hair remained, the dark color even more pronounced against his slate grey body. Lifting his shirt, he traced one of the many scars in a spiderweb pattern across his chest from the snow monster. Compared to the rest of him, his chest looked truly bizarre, long dark green scars taking up nearly as much space as his actual skin.


    He huffed out a sigh. All things considered, could be worse. Never going to win a handsomeness contest, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll send people screaming, he found himself thinking, surprisingly at ease. Setting the mirror down, he suddenly felt worn out, his mind filled with thoughts of sleep. Kicking off his new boots, he lay down on the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


    -------


    A hard knocking jolted Aran from his dreamless sleep. Bright sunlight lit the room through the small window at the end of the bed. Blinking his eyes sleepily, he crossed to the door. Pulling it open, he was greeted by the grinning face of James. ¡°Rise and shine new boy!¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°Come on, there¡¯s a kitchen down below, we can grab breakfast then head out.¡± Mild panic rose in Aran¡¯s mind, as far as he knew he couldn¡¯t eat breakfast, but James was already making his way down the hall. Aran jumped to pull on his boots and followed, walking quickly to catch up.


    ¡°I, uh, I generally don¡¯t eat breakfast, actually. Also, isn¡¯t it, like 4 in the afternoon?¡± Aran asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. James chuckled again, laugh lines creasing around his brown eyes. ¡°Dude, it''s cool, we have food to spare, you don¡¯t have to worry about it. I¡¯ll show you the greenhouses later. It¡¯s actually closer to 6, but that¡¯s when we get up. The 3rd is on night watch tonight. We rotate duties with the other squads, and it works out pretty well, with you being new and all.¡± Aran blinked, realizing his anxiety had been mistaken for bashfulness. That worked just as well, he supposed. ¡°Still, I¡¯m not hungry, I¡¯ll be okay. How long will we be on watch. Uh, and what will we be doing on watch?¡±


    They¡¯d arrived at the kitchen as they walked, the large room lit by a small fireplace and several of the torches Aran had seen earlier. As they entered, Rick and Alice were sitting at the end of a long table, both turning as they walked in. James gave a good natured wave to them, as he walked to the small iron stove, pulling out some eggs from a pantry. Rick swallowed, then picked up where James had left off. ¡°Mr. Briggs. To answer your question, we¡¯ll be on the wall for watch, doing exactly what it sounds like: watching. We¡¯ll be on the northeast quarter of the wall, but we¡¯ll rotate throughout the shift. You¡¯ll be with one of us the whole time.¡± He said all this with the same, calm confidence as ever, but to Aran it sounded as if they were going to be keeping an eye on him. ¡°Uh, right. Makes sense,¡± he said as he walked to the table, taking a seat on the bench next to Alice, facing Rick. As he sat, she turned and raised an eyebrow, a trademark expression Aran was coming to recognize. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to eat? We¡¯ll be out there most of the night, you know. You¡¯ll need the energy to keep warm,¡± she said, voice dropping a bit at the end.


    Aran shrugged, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not hungry, couldn¡¯t eat if I tried. Nerves I guess,¡± he said, forcing a smile. Technically not a lie, he thought to himself, the humor in the sentiment bleak. Alice turned back to her food. ¡°Suit yourself, but I did warn you. Better not fall asleep, we don¡¯t tolerate that crap.¡± Rick made a soothing gesture with his hands, looking at Aran with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. ¡°Stop Alice, he¡¯ll be fine. He¡¯s been on his own all this time, I¡¯m sure he can handle it.¡±


    At this point James sat down, his plate clattering against the table, making Aran jump. ¡°Ah he¡¯s got this you guys! Look at how jumpy he is! That¡¯ll keep him nice and alert out there.¡± He grinned at Aran¡¯s frown. ¡°Just messing with ya man. You¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯ll be out there with ya, no worries.¡± With that, James began ravenously devouring his food, deaf to the world, and the look of vague disgust Alice leveled at him.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m done. I¡¯m going to go get ready, back down in 15?¡± She asked, glancing at Rick as she stood. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m going to go check in with Barker, make sure there¡¯s been no news before we head out.¡± He turned to Aran. ¡°Make sure you¡¯ve got everything you need with you, we won¡¯t be leaving the wall for any reason until we¡¯re relieved. Just stay with James, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Rick stood as well, dropping his cleaned plate in dishrack after Alice, both of them filing out of the room.


    ¡°Hmmmm. Well, they don¡¯t hate you, so pretty good start I¡¯d say,¡± James said quietly as he placed his fork down. Aran looked back at him with surprise. ¡°Is that a success? Not hate? That seems like a pretty low bar.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Well, they¡¯re not as fast to warm up to a new face like I am. But they¡¯ll come around. Long as you do your job, and don¡¯t talk too much, you¡¯ll get along with the Captain just fine. Alice¡­ well, she¡¯ll let you know if you¡¯re doing something wrong,¡± he said, winking. Aran nodded, making a mental note to watch what he said around James, he seemed to like to gossip. James stood, stretching, dark jacket pulling tight over what Aran realized was an extremely muscular build.


    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m going to wash up and see if anyone else is around. If you need to do anything before we head out, now¡¯s the time. Just be back to the entrance hall in 10 minutes. Don¡¯t want to be late on your first day!¡± James grinned, moving to the sink. Aran stood, nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back, just want to do one thing first.¡± Aran walked quickly, up the stairs and returned to his room. Picking up his toothbrush almost reverently, he smiled. He brushed his teeth thoroughly, then jogged back down to the main hall. He arrived to find James lounging on a stone bench near the front door, Rick and Alice both having yet to arrive. He sat down quietly, not wanting to disturb James, who seemed to be napping.


    He didn¡¯t wait long. Rick walked in through the doors shortly after, nodding at Aran as he did. ¡°Let¡¯s go everyone. We need to be at the wall in 10,¡± he said brusquely, turning and striding back outside. ¡°Yes sir!¡± James said, making a comic salute while still laying down. Alice brushed by Aran, startling him. He hadn¡¯t even noticed her enter the room. Shaking his head, feeling a bit of color stain his cheeks in embarrassment, he followed them outside.

 Ch. 9 The Wall

    As he followed the others outside, Aran noticed two long knives hanging from Alice¡¯s hips. He raised an eyebrow, turning to see if the others also sported weapons. Rick was leaning on a large sledgehammer, waiting for them to join him. James picked up a long handled, two headed axe from where it leaned against the wall outside. Rick noticed Aran¡¯s look, lifting his hammer onto his shoulder. ¡°Mr. Briggs, we¡¯ll get you a weapon soon enough. For tonight, you¡¯ll just be watching.¡±


    Aran cleared his throat, unsure of what to say to that. ¡°Uh, yeah. I am wondering though, why you¡¯re not using, ya know. Guns?¡± James grinned in response as he shouldered up next to Aran. ¡°Ah, see, you won¡¯t want to be using guns. They¡¯re too loud, draws more stuff out when you start shooting. Besides, we¡¯ve only got a few left that still work, and like, no ammo.¡± Aran nodded, he hadn¡¯t considered the noise. He cocked his head at the last thing James had said, peaking his interest. ¡°What do you mean you¡¯ve only got a few left that still work? I thought Alice said the police distributed guns, doesn¡¯t that mean you have a bunch?¡±


    Rick stepped in at this point, lowering his voice a fraction. ¡°We can discuss this more as we walk,¡± he said, turning on his heel and setting a brisk pace. James kept pace beside Aran. ¡°We¡¯re not sure why, but most modern metal rusts almost immediately these days. Most of the guns we have have rusted all over, even the stainless steel bits. Mr. Crawford thinks it''s all the magic in the air that has the whole world changing, causing metal to degrade, and making people do crazy stuff. He¡¯s the guy that built the wall, and he¡¯s been researching stuff ever since.¡± Aran fell silent, pondering what that meant. It made sense, especially having seen rusted cars the whole way here. He remembered the knife he had found, rusted almost completely away. ¡°So, what, we can¡¯t use iron or steel at all anymore?¡± He blurted, incredulous. That would pretty much cripple every city in the world and the military¡­ He blinked. James shrugged, continuing to walk behind Rick. ¡°We don¡¯t really know. Crawford is really good at this stuff, but he¡¯s just as new to this weird magic stuff as the rest of us. Some stuff is affected more than other, our weapons for example, we¡¯ve found them much easier to maintain, but guns seem to degrade much faster. We imagine that''s why we haven¡¯t seen nearly anyone else in weeks, as cars just stopped working. That''s not even counting all the shorts and weirdness with other tech we¡¯ve seen. From what we¡¯ve seen, most tech is pretty worthless now. So that¡¯s why we¡¯ve got these,¡± he said, twirling the axe in his hand for effect. Aran found himself grinning back in spite of himself.


    No tech, huh? Well, at least we got magic. Or, at least I did. The last thought made him turn to look at the others more thoroughly. They hadn¡¯t done anything magical that he¡¯d noticed so far, but maybe he¡¯d see some tonight. ¡°So, James. Mr. Crawford can do magic stuff with walls and stuff, can you, uh. Can you do anything like that?¡± He found himself blurting. James laughed. ¡°You¡¯re pretty blunt, huh? I love it. I can¡¯t do anything as impressive as make walls or buildings, but I¡¯ve got a trick or two. I can add a little something special to my axe here, makes the beasties sick. Does a number on em after a while.¡± Aran¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What- what do you mean you can do something to your axe?¡± James grinned in response, nodding. ¡°After Ben figured out how to do what he does, we all started experimenting with mana. Oh, that¡¯s what it''s called, in case you didn¡¯t know. The stuff inside you, that lets you do magic.¡± Aran nodded, he remembered. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s pretty gnarly stuff. Hopefully we¡¯ll have a quiet watch, but if not, I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    Rick turned his head, speaking back to them. ¡°If we encounter anything tonight, Mr. Briggs, stay back. Until you¡¯ve gotten a feel for how we work together, I don¡¯t want you in the middle of it, where one of us might accidentally hit you. You can defend yourself of course,¡± he added, almost as an afterthought. Aran felt his cheeks flush, a little embarrassed to be so obviously not needed. He felt eyes on him, and as he looked up, Alice quickly looked away.


    He didn¡¯t have a chance to decipher that further, as they arrived at the base of the section of wall they¡¯d be guarding. Rick exchanged a few words with a man from the previous shift, before they filed up the small stone stairs to the top of the wall. Aran¡¯s eyebrows came together as they made it to the top. He¡¯d been expecting some fantastical view, but only thick forest met his gaze, interspersed with small trails through the snowy underbrush. James gently nudged him, bringing his attention back to the group.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll start at the next tower to the east. Alice, you and Mr. Briggs will remain here, and James, you¡¯ll be at the western tower. In four hours we¡¯ll rotate, as usual. Mr. Briggs, as you¡¯re new, Alice will go over the basics with you. When we rotate, you¡¯ll be with me afterwards. Any questions?¡± Rick placed his hammer head down on the ground, waiting. When nobody offered any, he nodded, and walked to the right along the walkway, headed for the next stone section of the wall. James laid a hand on Aran¡¯s shoulder, gave him a thumbs up, and left without another word.


    Alice sighed, walking to the edge of the wall, resting her hands along the battlement. She stood like that for a long time, appearing lost in thought. Aran fidgeted awkwardly, not sure if he was supposed to be doing something.


    ¡°Might as well get comfortable, we¡¯ll be here a while. So you can stop fidgeting.¡± She turned her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye. ¡°Come on. I¡¯m not going to bite.¡± She waved him to come up to the battlement. He joined her, staring out past the wall, upon the ruined streets beyond already being reclaimed by the forest. ¡°Pretty weird, right? Just a few weeks ago, people lived there. Now¡­¡± She didn¡¯t finish the thought, voice trailing off. Aran nodded anyway. It was the reality of the world now. People were gone. A lot of people. They stood that way as the sun slowly sank toward the horizon, before Alice broke the silence again.


    ¡°So. What''s your thing? I¡¯m supposed to get a sense of what you can do so we can build a strategy around having you around. Ya know, so we all work together better.¡± The last bit she said in a rush, though Aran wasn¡¯t sure why. He shifted his weight from side to side. ¡°Uh, not really sure, to be honest.¡± He chuckled when she raised an eyebrow. Seemed to be a thing with Alice. ¡°Seriously, I don¡¯t like, have some cool axe or knife magic. I¡¯ve mostly just punched anything that was trying to kill me, and running like hell. And this-¡± He gestured vaguely to himself, ¡°-I just woke up like this one day. I don¡¯t know exactly what changed, yet.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Alice turned, facing him fully as she leaned a hip against the battlement. ¡°So, you survived all this time by just¡­ punching stuff?¡± She gave him a once over as she said it, clearly trying to see how someone as lean as he could just punch monsters to death.


    ¡°Well, I mean, I didn¡¯t come out unscathed, if that¡¯s what you mean. You hit stuff enough and it usually stops hitting back. I didn¡¯t have anything else when this started, so I just kind of kept doing it. But it''s been a while since I saw anything out there. Besides that snow monster thing.¡± Alice perked up at that.


    ¡°Snow monster? Like, a big snow drift that tries to eat you?¡± Aran nodded, and she continued. ¡°And you actually killed one? By punching snow?¡± She looked disbelieving.


    ¡°Oh, uh, no. It had this¡­ I dunno, a heart? This orb in the center of it. I killed that, and the rest of it died too. I can¡­ I¡¯m not really sure, to be honest. But I pushed my mana into it, and it died.¡± He neglected to add that he was pretty sure he consumed it¡¯s mana. That would just be his ace in the hole. Alice seemed to take this in stride, however. She turned away, thinking.


    ¡°Hmmmm. So you can attack things by touching them¡­ Well, regardless, pretty cool, if nothing else.¡± She looked at him with a grin. ¡°I know all this crap is weird as hell, but magic almost, almost makes it okay.¡± Aran shared her grin, feeling just a little bit better.


    ¡°So, on to how to actually be a ranger¡­¡±


    After that, they spent the next few hours going over the patrol schedule, and how the shifts worked. Aran didn¡¯t really grasp how the schedule worked, but figured he didn¡¯t need to, he¡¯d just show up when the rest of the 3rd did. Apparently, there were 15 teams, with between 3 and 6 members each. The number of members was based on what the teams were best at, with 3rd primarily being reconnaissance. The other teams all had different specialties, and usually there was a good mix on the wall duty at any one time in case any one team couldn¡¯t handle a threat. Wall duty turned out to be very simple. Just observe the surrounding area, and monitor the walls to make sure nothing was trying to cross. Anytime a threat was detected, there was a bell on the inside edge of the tower mounted on an upright plank, and whoever was monitoring would ring it as long as possible, until they were needed for defense. Runners, those not able to actually defend the town, were posted throughout the edge of town to help with getting the message out when a bell was rung. It was an effective enough system with as many people as they had, especially seeing as the walled in part of town was only about 1 square mile.


    Still, even with the Towers, occasionally something would get past the Rangers on shift, and the only thing to alert anyone were the sounds of screaming. Typically the Rangers closest would leave the wall to investigate, or if some were nearby off shift and able to help. There just weren¡¯t enough people to patrol an area even this small. According to Alice, they¡¯d been losing people at a steady pace, even after the wall went up. Sometimes it was some creature killing folks, but just as often people would just¡­ give up. Some had taken their own lives, others just walked into the forest when it became too much. At that, Alice had grown very quiet, and conversation between the two guttered out, and they spent the next few hours simply watching, and waiting.


    ---------


    At the 4 hour mark, James arrived, still cheerful as ever. ¡°So, how¡¯s your first wall duty so far? Exciting, thrilling? Everything you hoped for in an apocalypse?¡± Aran couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°In a word, thrilling, I¡¯d say,¡± he replied, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm. Alice smirked, sharing a nod with James. He looked past the two of them, to the east along the wall.


    ¡°So, where¡¯s boss-man? He usually beats me here.¡± Alice frowned, following his gaze to the east, where they could just make out the shape of another tower in the overcast starlight. ¡°Hmmmm. Agreed. He should be here by now.¡± The three of them shared a look. Alice sighed, ¡°I¡¯ll go check. James, you keep an eye out back towards the other tower. Aran, you stay here, keep watch, and listen. I¡¯ll whistle if I need help.¡± After they both nodded, she crouched a little to keep low, and moved off across the thin walkway, almost melting into the shadows. Aran raised an eyebrow at that. She definitely hadn¡¯t mentioned being able to do that. But he turned back, eyes straining in the dark for anything outside, or along the wall. James had moved back toward his own tower, about halfway, where he stood, axe in hand.


    The wait seemed interminable. Aran kept looking back towards the east tower, for any sign of Alice or Rick, but it was too dark to see much of anything. Aran was nearly ready to ring the bell when Alice finally stepped out of the shadows directly beside him. He jumped, nearly yelling, before mastering himself. ¡°You could have warned me!¡± He hissed, keeping his voice quiet. She ignored him, waving at James who jogged over.


    She looked at both of them, with eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. ¡°He¡¯s gone. There was blood on the stone.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡± James had lost all humor. ¡°I¡¯ll alert a runner we need this section covered, then we¡¯ll go.¡± He ran down the stairs, dashing into a nearby building.


    ¡°Uh, what? We¡¯re just going to go after him? How are we going to even find him in the dark like this?¡± Aran asked, not loving the idea of heading back out into the forest after having so soon found civilization.


    ¡°Of course we are!¡± Alice looked at him sharply. ¡°We¡¯re going, and you¡¯re coming too. I don¡¯t care if you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing, you survived a month on your own, and I¡¯m sure your little mana trick will come in handy if we do find whatever took him.¡± She turned away as James arrived. ¡°Let¡¯s go. The Captain may not have very much time, and we don¡¯t know how far they¡¯ve got.¡± James grabbed a coil of rope from where it had been placed for just such a purpose, tying a line at the top and shimmying down immediately. Alice gestured, and Aran slid over the crenellation, reminded of gym class back in high school as he slid down the rope, not worried about burns.


    He alit on the hard-packed snow, joining James as he twirled his axe. ¡°Just follow our lead, and don¡¯t speak unless it¡¯s absolutely critical,¡± he whispered, eyes scanning the treeline. Alice joined them, taking the lead at a light jog as they reached the base of the tower Rick had been stationed at. Alice crouched, checking the ground for any sign. After a few seconds, she motioned them close.


    ¡°Tracks. Look like Rick¡¯s size, leading away from the tower,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°He was walking? But why wouldn¡¯t he have said something?¡± James asked.


    ¡°Not sure, but only one way to find out.¡± She turned and started following the trail at a jog, James and Aran close behind. Aran moved into the center, keeping his eyes on Alice as James pulled up the rear. After several minutes of running, she pulled up short, turning slowly in a circle. Aran caught up, controlling his breathing. Alice squatted studying the tracks that seemed to end here.


    Aran turned around, to find James gone. He was instantly on alert, checking in the brush to either side of the trail, but there was no sign of him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up, and he felt his mana uncoil across the connections in his body, energizing him. He could see a little better now, even in the gloom of the forest. He listened for a sign, but only his breathing marred the silence of the night. The sound of leaves scratching against each other made him whirl around. He froze. Alice was gone, too. He held still, listening, eyes panning the forest as his mana raged within him. Some instinct told him to move, and he leapt, straight up, grabbing an overhanging limb and scrabbling on top. He glanced down, eyes searching. A single, glowing white arrow jutted out of the tree below him, at exactly chest height.

 Ch. 10 Not Alone

    Aran¡¯s eyes widened. An arrow? Someone shot an actual arrow at me?  He tracked the length of the arrow, searching the inky darkness for the hidden assailant. He strained his eyes, combing the woods for any movement, until a small flash of light made him jerk to the side, narrowly avoiding another arrow as it slammed into the tree behind him. But now he was off balance, slowly tipping over the side of the narrow branch he¡¯d been balancing on. The moment seemed to stretch out, as he waved his arms wildly, feet slipping on the icy wood, until pain shattered the instant. He cried out, left shoulder burning as the arrow pinned him to the tree.


    He gasped, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. ¡°Ugh, what¡­ what the hell.¡± He tried to focus through the pain, his thoughts slow and muddied. Got to get out of here. Got to get this arrow out! He reached up with his right hand, gripping the still brightly glowing arrow, before immediately releasing it with a sharp cry. He glanced at his palm, where a blackened line marked where the arrow had burned even his thick skin. Even as he watched, he felt a trickle of mana start repairing the damage, green light shining from his palm. He wouldn¡¯t be grabbing the arrow again, even if it would heal, that burn was severe, and he¡¯d only touched it for a moment, no telling how bad it would get from trying to hold on while pulling it out. If, he could pull it out. When he¡¯d jerked his hand away, his whole body had shifted, and he could feel the arrow keeping him pinned. It must have been anchored deep in the wood.


    He started to try and push forward, off of the arrow, but his left arm hung limply. That¡¯s when he noticed the pins and needles feeling spreading over his body. Slowly, the numbness was spreading out from the arrow like a cancer. He looked inward, desperate now. If he could just get out of this tree, he could run for it. He could feel foreign mana pulsing into him, shunting his own mana out of the way, filling him with the stuff. He could feel it grabbing onto the connections in his body, as the fingers on his left hand twitched. He realized with horror it was taking control. Whoever had sent that arrow was taking over his body! His own mana was pushed back, over and over, unable to resist the spell.


    No! I¡¯ve got to get out of here, get help! Thoughts tumbled through his mind as he desperately tried to push the mana back. It was a futile effort though, the foreign mana just kept pushing through, crystalizing in his channels, blocking his own mana completely. It was spreading now, up his neck, and across his abdomen. In blind panic, he tried to push forward, straining with his legs and right arm. He nearly blacked out from the pain, the mana had taken over, but he could still feel the arrow as he pulled against it. The angle of the arrow meant he had to slightly lower himself as he pulled away from the tree. Aran grit his teeth, and slammed forward. He didn¡¯t want to find out who had shot him, he had to get out of here. A voice in the back of his mind whispered there was no way he would escape, they¡¯d already got James and Alice, and they were way better than he was already. Aran ignored it, focusing on the pain as he finally slipped off the arrow, the brief moment of elation suddenly gone when he realized he was falling. He¡¯d already been off balance when the arrow had pinned him, and now with only one good arm, his balance was basically nonexistent. He plummeted, the ground slamming all the air out his lungs as he landed on his back. He silently thanked his luck he¡¯d only climbed a few feet as he gasped for breath.


    His instincts screamed at him to get up, to run, but he could barely breathe, and with the whole left side of his body numb, he didn¡¯t have the leverage to stand. Instead, he tried focusing on the foreign mana. It had stopped spreading, thankfully, but he still couldn¡¯t push it away, it had set like concrete, completely immobilizing any pathways it had infused. As he focused on it, it was like a lightbulb lit over his head. If this works, I¡¯m an idiot, he groused. Instead of trying to push or move the other mana, he worked his own around it, surrounding it like some great maw, then he pulled. His mana slowly sunk his own tendrils of power into the foreign invader, spreading as he siphoned it into his core, his mana funnelling it into itself faster and faster, breaking it down, consuming it. He could feel his mana reaching and pulling, almost ravenous, as if it had a will of its own awakening as his body was gradually freed from the will of another. He could feel his own mana swelling with the foreign power, and his wound closing nearly instantly as a wave of energy reverberated through him as the last of the mana was consumed. He sat up, working his shoulder, grinning. He wasn¡¯t helpless, he was powerful. He¡¯d survived a nuclear bomb, hordes of monsters, and he¡¯d done it by himself. His mana seemed to growl in agreement.


    He would devour them all. He leapt to his feet, a ravenous overwhelming desire the only thought in his head. His smile widened as his eyes panned the darkness. The mana inside him pulled him forward, leading to its former host. He could see it now, a glittering vaguely humanoid shaped mass of mana, just beyond some bushes, hunched and waiting. Waiting for him. He wouldn¡¯t keep them waiting.


    He took off, slamming straight through the brush, uncaring as the branches whipped at him, nothing could stop him. He could feel the mana in the other calling out to the mana within him, and his answered as a deep growl, almost pleasurable escaped his throat. He picked up the pace, leaping the final distance over a fallen log. As he descended, he could see the vague shape of a face turned up, inhuman features greeting him, but the eyes, wide with surprise, looked all too familiar. He landed, grip latching onto the attacker as he tumbled with them. He could feel it, just out of reach, tantalizing him beneath skin. He stopped, breathing heavily over them, letting go to grasp their neck with one hand and slamming his other down into their gut, fingers digging into flesh his mana surged out, into them. He breathed in deeply, pulling their energy into himself, his mind too addled with hunger to hear the screaming. Too consumed in the feeling of devouring the mana to feel the knife the attacker tried to stab him with, the wound healing instantly.


    He pulled more and more, feeding on the smaller creature¡¯s energy, as their attacks came slower and slower, their form withering under him. He was so focused on the feeling of power, he didn¡¯t hear the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. Neither did he hear the sound of something heavy swinging through the air, before it slammed into his head, and everything went black.


    ----


    Aran woke with bleary eyes, a headache that pounded in his ears and forehead, and a body that felt like he¡¯d been run over by a truck. He was kneeling, and his hands were bound behind his back to something, pulling his shoulders back painfully against as he was held upright. His chin had been resting on his chest, and he struggled to lift it, but settled for raising his eyes after a wave of nausea swept through him at the movement. He blinked away the crust in his eyes, finding it difficult to focus his eyes. When he could finally see, his eyes went wide.


    He was kneeling on a raised stone dais, looking out into a massive cavern, a long path dotted with torches leading to his dais, surrounded by darkness. As he looked closer, he realised it was a massive chasm to either side of the path, which was really a bridge across the pit. The path was perhaps 10 feet wide, and with his raised perch, allowing him a good view down into the darkness that seemed to go on forever. His stomach turned over looking down into the endless black, and he forced himself to tear his eyes away.


    He took a moment to steady his breathing, slowly raising his head to look around. He could only turn his head so far, as whatever he was tied to blocked his vision. The dais appeared to be constructed into the wall of the cavern, the raised part a large oval atop a slightly large crescent moon shaped stone outcropping. Two large braziers stood too either side of the dais, but they did little to cozy up the place. The bridge extended far  into the darkness, the torches only pinpricks of light at the farthest edge of what Aran could see. He seemed to be completely alone down here. But if movies and books had taught him anything, waking up tied to an altar in an underground cave was never a good sign of hospitality to come. He tried to organize his thoughts, remembering first the forest, then the others'' disappearance. Then the arrow, and¡­ anger like he¡¯d never imagined. It was like he¡¯d taken a backseat and something else had been at the wheel in his body. The thought was terrifying, of being completely out of control. Fear welled up, before vanishing, leaving him strangely calm. He shook his head, he had more pressing concerns than anger management.


    He cleared his throat, trying to clear the dust he could feel on his tongue, the sound echoing in the darkness. Fuck. Hopefully whoever put me down here wasn¡¯t close enough to hear that. He pulled on his arms, testing his bonds. He could feel cold, jagged metal biting into his skin. He pulled harder, but there was no give. He tried to move his legs to stand, and found his ankles similarly bound beneath him. He twisted, but no matter how he moved, he couldn¡¯t get any leverage. As he tugged against the manacles, the sharp metal sliced into his skin, making him hiss in pain. Dark green blood dripped into his palm, and he felt his mana respond, rushing from his core to repair the damage. But as it approached the wound it simply¡­ disappeared. He froze. That was a very bad sign. Tentatively, he moved more mana to the wound, and focused on it. As it approached, the metal on his wrist grew very cold, and he could feel mana being siphoned away. He flinched, instantly pulling his mana away from the wound.


    That¡¯s not good at all. These bindings are stealing my mana as soon as I try to use it! He grunted in frustration, the sound bouncing off the stone around him, echoing a growing deeper as it reverberated strangely. He stopped, taking a breath, trying to focus. He felt around with his hands, trying to feel around the cuffs to see if there was any weakness to exploit. Hi fingers could just barely brush what felt like a thick cord or cable, extending farther back from the cuffs themselves. He strained a finger towards the cable, pushing mana down the length of his finger, bridging the gap to the cable, where it was immediately whisked away again. He grit his teeth. There¡¯s no way out, not without tearing off my hands. He¡¯d seen the shows where extremely determined people broke their thumbs to get out of cuffs, but he had no illusions. The cuffs were far too tight, and even if he did get his hands out, they¡¯d be a bloody mess, and he had no idea if he¡¯d be able to free his feet once he did. He had to try though. He leaned forward, pulling, relaxing his hands as he did so. He groaned as the metal bit deeper into his wrists, but there was no give. His hands didn¡¯t budge a millimeter. He stopped shaking from the pain shooting up his arms, unable to relax them into a resting position. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Aran hung his head, breathing deeply, trying to think of something, anything, to help him get out of there.


    Tock! Tock! Tock!


    Aran whipped his head up, searching for the source of the sound even as it continued. It sounded like wood against stone, echoing across the cavern, steadily growing lowder. The sound was monotonous, perhaps a half second between each beat. He peered into the darkness, eyes squinting to see the furthest edges of the bridge. At the very edge of what he could see, a wide shadow moved across the bridge. He struggled against his bonds, trying to push down a rising sense of panic as the shadow grew closer. He jerked his shoulders, refusing to just lie down and wait for whatever was coming. He could feel his mana boiling within him as anger stamped out the coals of his panic. He was scared, he didn¡¯t want to let whoever put him down here get away with¡­ whatever they were going to do to him, but he wouldn¡¯t just wait for it. He wrenched his arms forward, arms straining. Mana surged into his muscles, and he pulled harder, bowing his head to align his whole body into the strain. He kept any mana from the area where his skin contacted the manacles, focusing on trying to leverage his arms to break whatever held him. It wasn¡¯t working. He could feel more mana feeding his strength, as his muscle visibly stretched, bulging outward as his jacket tightened.


    The sound was getting closer. He blocked it out, focusing on escaping. He couldn¡¯t waste energy thinking about that when he was still stuck. He let out a low growl as mana burned in his veins, his very breath saturated with power. He could feel the tendons in his arms thickening, taking more of the strain as the cuffs cut ever deeper.


    Then the sound stopped.


    He heaved a breath, letting his arms relax, as he looked up. A hooded figure stood before him, head cocked. He felt¡­ a kinship with this person. A bond between them, he could feel across the intervening space. His eyes narrowed as they pushed their hood back, revealing surprisingly delicate features. Silver eyes nestled in an ochre face surrounded by silver hair, only interrupted by the sharp points of long ears pushing through. His eyes widened. Is that¡­ an elf? The elf did not look well, it¡¯s cheeks sunken and skin drawn. Dark clothing hung loose on it¡¯s frame, making it difficult to guess at gender. As they locked eyes he remembered, any thoughts about meeting an actual elf pushed to the side. ¡°You! You shot me!¡± he growled, voice still hoarse. The elf¡¯s lips twitched in a small smile, but they didn¡¯t speak. Instead, they turned, and gestured behind them with a ¡®come hither¡¯ motion.


    As one, three more figures shuffled into the light of the braziers.


    Rick, Alice and James stood staring with blank gazes, unshackled.


    Aran was stunned. ¡°Guys? What¡¯s going on?¡± They didn¡¯t respond, continuing to stare ahead with empty, emotionless eyes. ¡°Guys! Talk to me? What¡¯s going on?!¡± No reaction passed across their faces. Even James¡¯s normally expressive face was limp and passive. His heart sunk, dread filling his mind. ¡°They can¡¯t respond, can they?¡± He glared at the elf as he said this. The elf stared back, head cocked once again, face betraying no emotion. ¡°Who the hell are you? Better yet, what are you? And why are you doing this?¡± The elf turned to the others, ignoring him.  With a gesture, Rick dropped limply to his knees. The elf produced a knife from a sheath at its belt, black blade glinting in the firelight. It gripped Ricks face, turning back to look at Aran as it did so, baring bright white teeth in a gruesome smile. It wrenched open Rick¡¯s mouth, then in one swift motion, pulled his tongue and sliced it off. Aran screamed, horrified. His hold on the mana shook, but that was all it took. All the strength left his limbs, his muscles shrinking noticeably. Rick hadn¡¯t been a friend exactly, but this was barbaric. The elf proceeded to cut off his ears as well, placing everything in a large bowl. Rick kneeled there, catatonic. Then, holding its hand above, the elf drew the knife along its forearm, black blood spilling into the bowl. It looked noticeably paler as it stooped to grab the bowl, walking to the brazier to Aran¡¯s left.


    ¡°Hey! Hey I¡¯m talking to you, asshole! What are you doing?!¡± Aran¡¯s cries went ignored, as it held the bowl over the fire, uncaring of the flames touch as it mumbled in a guttural language that made Aran¡¯s hair stand on end. The flames guttered as the elf muttered, before flashing upward, and the contents of the bowl glowed with a red light. Aran took a moment to look at the others. They were all pale, and unnaturally still. Dread wormed its way up his spine, making him shiver. He tried getting their attention, voice strained. ¡°Alice, James! Come on, we¡¯ve gotta get out of here! I know you can hear me, you¡¯ve just gotta break free!¡±


    The elf finished whatever magic it had been casting, turning back to him, smiling patiently like a grandparent watching a particularly dense child. It shook its head, walking closer. He leaned away, casting a wary eye at the foul smelling liquid in the bowl it still held. Its smile widened as it grabbed his jaw, forcing it open with apparent ease. He grunted, trying to jerk his head away, but the elf¡¯s grip was iron. It slowly poured the concoction down his throat, tilting his head back in such a way he was unable to cough it up. It tasted rotten, like the underside of a swamp, tinged with the iron of blood. The elf pressed on his throat roughly, forcing him to swallow. The disgusting substance hit his stomach, a wave of vertigo rushing through him as the elf released him. He hung his head, retching. He fought to master the nausea that rocked him, reminding him of what he imagined sailing in a storm to feel like. After a few moments, the vertigo and accompanying nausea subsided, and he took a few long, deep breaths.


    ¡°Well?¡± Aran whipped his head up at the sound. The elf looked down at him, head cocked. ¡°Well, can you understand me, vermin?¡± Aran¡¯s eyes widened in shock at the surprisingly melodious voice, though it sounded rough, like it was painful to speak.


    The elf slapped him, hard. ¡°I asked you a question, cur, and you will answer!¡± Aran reeled, blinking to clear the spots filling his vision. He coughed, feeling his face burning more from anger than pain. He looked up, bending his neck at an uncomfortable angle to meet the elf¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Yes, I can understand you.¡± He knew he was in a bad spot, and saying anything else probably wouldn¡¯t do any good at this point. When he didn¡¯t continue speaking, the look on the elf¡¯s face was akin to a kid in a candy store. If the kid was a 6 foot murderous psychopath.


    ¡°Good! Now, this won¡¯t take long, as my Lady would be very upset if I delayed you any longer than absolutely necessary. You, vermin, have been summoned to commune with my Lady, a great honor.¡± The elf said this last bit with a deeply condescending tone, evidently not believing he deserved such a fate. ¡°You will be allowed in the presence of Her holy self, and so you must be cleansed beforehand. I tell you all this, so that you know that while I must do this, I also want to. You may be called to serve, or you may be burned to ash by Her glory, but I will have vengeance for the pain you have caused.¡± As it finished speaking, its voice lowered until it was almost growling in his face.


    It stood sharply. ¡°Now. The cleansing.¡± It motioned to the others, and Rick rose from his kneeling position, before all three stepped onto the raised dais. The elf glanced over at him. ¡°I do so love obedient servants, hmmm?¡± It chuckled at the fury on Aran¡¯s face. He opened his mouth to shout, but the elf slammed a gag in his mouth, quickly securing it with straps around the back of his head. Aran screamed impotently, teeth clenching on the thick canvas. ¡°Now now, none of that. That little drink was just to make sure we can communicate properly, not so we can go on chatting for hours. Besides, I can¡¯t have you biting off your own tongue!¡± The elf leaned closer, until it was just inches away. ¡°This is going to be unpleasant. Just thought you should know.¡±


    It stood, and all three of the other humans approached, kneeling directly in front of Aran. As one, they tilted their heads back, looking for all the world like supplicants at the altar. The elf pulled out the same black blade, and in one continuous movement, drew it across all three of their throats.


    Aran screamed. He screamed until his vision was dotted with black spots, tears like damning lines of ice as they ran down his face. The elf simply watched, as the collective blood of the humans pooled beneath them in a growing puddle, even as they remained perfectly stationary. Aran sobbed through his gag, staring at the people who had saved him, slowly draining of life before him. The elf muttered under his breath, twisting a hand in strange gestures.


    The blood moved. At first, Aran thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, tear soaked as they were. But slowly, inexorably, the pool of blood was being pulled as through a funnel, a small channel creeping towards him. He simply stared, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. The blood continued its creeping path, stopping between his legs, splitting. He watched it, curious in a detached sort of way, as far away in the back of his mind, he realized he was in shock. All of that ended the moment the blood made contact, soaking through his jeans.


    Agony. Pain swept through him like a hurricane, as mana flowed into him. This wasn¡¯t like before, when he took, this was being shoved into him, like a hypodermic needle connected to a firehose. The mana roared into him, and his core responded, pulling it in, consuming it. But he couldn¡¯t keep up, it was coming too fast. Power poured off of him in waves, charging the air like the calm before a lightning strike. He was vaguely aware of his restraints being released, but he could only focus on consuming the mana. Some primal part of him knew that to falter would be to end, the influx would kill him otherwise. Tears poured down his face, as he watched his companions wither to nothing more than husks, even as he fed on their energy, killing them. Some buried part of him revelled in the power, though he pushed the disgusting thoughts away. They hadn¡¯t been close, not really, but the least he could do was survive with their sacrifice.


    His whole body felt like a tuning fork struck too hard, but it was done. He¡¯d done it, he¡¯d absorbed all of the mana, though it nearly killed him. He was breathing hard, like he¡¯d just run a marathon, gulping for air. The elf approached, feet appearing at the edge of his downturned gaze. He slowly raised his head, shrugging his shoulders now that he was no longer restrained, glaring at the elf, who still held the knife.


    Aran spit out the gag, retching. ¡°You, you bastard. You killed them!¡± He managed to gasp out.


    The elf didn¡¯t smile this time, face a mask of placid tranquility. ¡°No. You did.¡± Then it plunged the knife into his chest. Aran screamed.


    Everything went black.

 Ch. 11 Threats

    Aran was drifting, his consciousness a pinprick of light in an endless void. Currents and eddies swirled the darkness around him, gently tossing him on gentle waves, his mind slow to respond. It felt comfortable here. Soft, silent, and soothing. The silence smothered his thoughts so he drifted lazily, unthinking, just barely aware. But the quiet sound of feathers rustling shattered the silence. He grumbled, annoyed, trying to pull the darkness tighter around him, block out the intrusion. The rustling turned to flapping wings, fluttering as if in anger. He focused, pulling away from the noise. Who would be so rude to interrupt his peace? The sound faded, dimming. He sighed.


    The flapping gave chase, however. He focused, trying to leave it behind. All this effort was waking him, though. He slowed down, seeking comfort in the stillness, but the flapping always caught up. He burrowed deep, attempting to drown it out with the silence of this place. Deeper and deeper he went, until all that remained was still, even the currents gone.


    CAW!


    The raucous call shattered the silence, the void splintering around his mind. Anger flared within him, then guttered out. Where was he? As he focused, the void around his mind cracked more and more, light escaping through the cracks, nearly blinding him. He pushed, focusing his mind like a scalpel, peeling away the darkness. As he cut away, the veil of darkness fell away, and he opened his eyes.


    He was still kneeling, but not in the cave.


    He looked up, the black stone floor reflecting his face back in the dim, but somehow harsh light of a massive iron chandelier hanging above him. Deep lines were carved into the floors and walls, depicting murals and lettering in a language he didn¡¯t know. Scenes of conquest, famine, and death adorned nearly every surface, the figures tall, but all bowing before one central figure, a black crown atop her head. The crown was black, but polished as bright as a mirror, as it sat atop her lustrous black hair, surrounding a pale face with deep purple eyes. Pointed ears peaked out from her hair, dissuading him of any notion of humanity. She sat before him, lounging on what could only be described as a throne, looking down with eyes that seemed to pierce straight through him. She was draped in a dress of midnight cloth, form fitting but severe in its cut. She said nothing, staring at him.


    He slowly clambered to his feet, looking around. He cleared his throat, it felt dry all of a sudden. ¡°Uh, where am I?¡± Her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°You are in my home, child, yet you do not know me. We¡¯ll rectify that soon enough. Did you enjoy your time with Narcin? He does tend to make a mess, but it¡¯s rare to have a servant that enjoys their work so.¡±


    Aran¡¯s mind slowly put the pieces together, a small smile playing on the woman¡¯s lips as she watched him struggle. The elf. Had to be that damn elf she was talking about. Which made her¡­ someone powerful. Still, he glowered at the memory of what Narcin had done. With a start he remembered what had brought him here, running his hands over his chest frantically. The wound from where the elf had stabbed him was gone, his skin, while certainly not smooth, was as hole-free as ever.


    His eyes narrowed. Am I dead? He glanced up at the elf woman, and around the room. This all felt¡­ real. But how did he get here? The knife had certainly felt real enough. Though, he supposed it didn¡¯t really matter, since he was still here, and if he was dead, well, there wasn¡¯t much he could do about that. But this ¡®Narcin¡¯ had done more than just stab him, he remembered, anger snapping him out his reverie.


    ¡°He killed them.¡± Calling them friends seemed wrong, like he was claiming something that didn¡¯t belong to him.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    A tinkling laugh echoed off the stone walls. ¡°Ah, yes. A necessary sacrifice. I had to know, and Narcin needed the extra bit of power to send you here. There is so much power in death, after all.¡± She eyed him knowingly. ¡°Did you enjoy it? You certainly seemed to revel in attacking Narcin.¡±


    Aran¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What? No! How could I enjoy seeing them die?! That¡¯s sick!¡± She leaned back, faint disdain flitting across her face.


    The shadows in the room flickered, seeming to gain mass, making Aran feel slightly claustrophobic, and simultaneously very small. ¡°Disappointing, but we can only deny our natures for so long. I brought you here to see what to make of you, but I think you need more time before you¡¯ll be useful.¡±


    He bristled. ¡°I don¡¯t intend to be used.¡± The thought reminded him too much of his mother, calculating and cruel. ¡°Oh of course not,¡± she said in a mocking tone, ¡°But what do you want? You humans have just been granted a tiny sliver of power, but what will you do with it?¡± She sat up straight, fingers pressed together in a bridge across her lap, eyes glued to him. He shrank under her gaze. What do I want? He considered the question. He supposed he wanted to live, but that wasn¡¯t a goal, not really. Long term? He supposed he wanted to see some more magic, see more of what the world was now. Maybe find some people to spend time with. He hadn¡¯t had any real friends in years, and the only new ones he¡¯d started to make were just murdered in front of him. By the elf, because of her. He straightened his spine, meeting her gaze. ¡°I want to see some more magic.¡± He paused, mustering his courage. ¡°And I¡¯m going to kill Narcin, and you, for what you did to Rick, Alice and James.¡±


    She remained silent, staring at him. ¡°I suppose you are not the gutless rat you appear to be, little human. I will allow your insolence this once, as you amuse me.¡± A wave of pressure slammed into his back, pressing him to the floor like some gnat beneath a boot. ¡°But only this once. I have plans for you, and regardless of what you may think, you are helpless before my will.¡± With a gesture of a single finger, she lifted him from the floor, arms pinned to his sides with invisible chains of power, pulling him forward until he hovered just in front of her. She stood, meeting him eye for eye, and he could feel power coming off of her in waves, enough to drown for an eternity in. This was a being so far above him, it felt like suffocating just looking at her.


    ¡°I am Night, and you will be made to serve my Great Purpose. You will return to your fledgling realm, where you will face more trials. You will overcome them, glorifying my name, or you will die.¡± She lifted a hand, and placed it on his chest, black flames erupting at the contact as he screamed. She pulled away, leaving a smoking black brand. Tears ran down his face as he grit his teeth, each breath fresh agony as the skin pulled across his chest.


    She sat down, looking bored. ¡°We are done. I have marked you, now go.¡± She waved a hand, and the world went black once more.


    ------


    Aran woke, chest heaving, gasping for air. He was lying on the cold stone of the dais, leg twisted uncomfortably beneath him. He levered himself up into a sitting position, groaning as he straightened. Only coals remained in the braziers, and the cavern was completely shrouded in darkness a few feet beyond the dais. He rubbed his chest, lifting his shirt, but no sign of either the brand or the stab wound remained.


    ¡°Ugh. What the hell?¡± He muttered to himself. ¡°That definitely wasn¡¯t a dream, so what the hell is happening? She and that other one were definitely straight fantasy elves. That¡¯s¡­. That''s weird. But, I guess if magic is real, elves are just the cherry on top of this whole apocalypse pie.¡± He ran a hand through his hair, the tang of blood still heavy in the air. Three dark lumps at the edge of the light confirmed he hadn¡¯t dreamt what had happened just before he¡¯d blacked out.


    His eyes burned, and he could feel tears gathering at the corners, but they refused to fall. He felt burnt out, too drained to muster the grief he knew he should be feeling. Instead, he moved forward, close enough to see their withered bodies, little more than skin stretched too tight over bone. He forced himself to look away. Ever since the day the obelisks had arrived, the world had descended into madness, but this was a fresh horror. He had trusted these people, had wanted to get to know them. They had lives, concerns, a community that relied on them, and that¡­ that bastard had just taken them away. And for what? That Night woman had said to send him to her, but that was ridiculous, barbaric. Was there no other way to communicate with magic than fucking murder? This was so wrong. They were obviously playing some game, scheming something, but people were dying! The world had gone to hell, and now some elves from who knows where were manipulating and murdering humans.


    He slammed a fist into the stone floor. No. No this wasn¡¯t good enough. He¡¯d escaped from the nightmare that was life with his mother, had survived a nuclear bomb, and survived alone in a wasteland. The world was not going to devolve into elves and whatever-the-hell-else was out there just using humans like pawns, or playthings. Mana surged within him, filling his veins with liquid fire. Aran was going to kill those elves. And first on the list, was Narcin.


    He stood, feeling filled with purpose for the first time in ages. He stepped around the bodies of his companions, vowing to return and bury them properly someday.


    He strode past the edge of the light, and into the unknown.

 Ch. 12 Out of the Fire

    After a few steps, Aran slowed his pace. He really couldn¡¯t see anything. He¡¯d expected his vision to adjust a bit, but he was completely blind and it wasn¡¯t getting better. Idiot! He berated himself, there were coals in the braziers, he could have probably made a torch or something. He turned around, but no light pierced the gloom. A shiver ran up his spine.


    Okay, not a great sign. I can¡¯t go back, can¡¯t see. But how do I know I¡¯m going forward? I didn¡¯t see any railings before, what if I walk off the edge? And, oh fuck, what if there¡¯s something in here, like those creepy spider dog things?


    He schooled his mind, forcing himself to focus. Breathe, damnit. It doesn¡¯t matter if something else is in here with me, I¡¯ll kill it and get out of here. Those elves are going to pay, and I¡¯m going to kick the shit out of anything that gets in the way. Just¡­ shuffle. That way I¡¯ll feel the edge before going off. Yeah, that¡¯ll work.


    He turned in the direction he thought he¡¯d originally set off in, and started shuffling forward, taking small steps, keeping his feet glued to the hard stone. It was slow going, but it should work, though the soft scrape of his boots did echo unpleasantly, making him feel very small. He did encounter the edge of the path once, and he had to stop to rest, heart hammering so loud thought he could hear it echoing back from the cavern walls.


    He resumed his trek, keeping the edge a few feet away on his left, walking with hunched shoulders and eyes squeezed shut, concentrating on keeping a straight line and listening. He¡¯d been shuffling for what felt like hours when he slammed head first into stone. He cursed, stumbling back a pace. Well, found the other side, he thought. He rubbed his forehead, more out of habit than any pain, his skin was much tougher these days.


    Aran reached out, laying a palm on the cool stone surface, running his hands up and down to confirm this was indeed a wall. He inched along the wall, moving first to the right, until his footing ended while the wall extended off into space. Not that way then. He shuffled back to the left, moving what felt like a much longer distance until finally, his hand slipped around an edge. Feeling further, his hands traced the outline of a small archway cut into the stone.


    ¡°Yes!¡± He whispered, the sound echoing back at him as a sibilant hiss. Very creepy, lets go. He tentatively shuffled forward, foot bumping the bottom of a stair. Fist pumping in victory, he started up the stairs.


    ----


    He emerged in the twilight of early dawn, filtered through the grey overcast sky. He put his hands on his hips, feeling accomplished, before the memory of what had happened in the dark hole behind him soured his mood. Turning he observed the small tunnel he¡¯d passed through, which had ended in a natural crack in the rock formation of a small hill. He glared at the hill, hiding such a dark and awful place. Looking around, there were loose rocks littering the ground. He placed them in an ¡°X¡± shape before the entrance, hoping it would dissuade any would-be explorers or other¡¯s looking for a safe place to hide.


    Actually, now that he thought about that place, where had it come from? Had it been here before the obelisks, or had it somehow been transported here? He shook his head. Save the metaphysical questions of how our reality has changed for later, he decided. For now, he probably ought to find his way back to¡­ Could he go back to Burville, having failed so utterly? Three of their people were dead, because of him. That elf had killed them specifically to torture Aran, they were just playthings to him. Recalling the elf¡¯s smug face made Aran¡¯s blood boil, mana trickling into his connections. His fingers clenched, knuckles turning white with strain. He lashed out, slamming his fist into the tree he¡¯d been standing under. The drip of tears down his face surprised him. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    It had been years since he last cried. His mother had called him weak for it, beating him even more, until he stopped crying entirely. He had thought himself incapable of it, after so long. He sank to his knees, shuddering as a sob escaped his throat.


    ¡°Why? Why do I keep surviving? When everyone else¡­ Why is it only me out here! I¡¯m so tired of this, of being alone.¡± He let the tears fall, making his jeans damp. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do. How am I going to even find that elf, let alone wherever Night was.¡±


    He rested a hand on a thick root of the tree, unconsciously siphoning energy. The slow, methodical energy of the tree bled into him, soothing the storm of emotions. His breathing slowed, and the tears dried on his cheeks as he looked up. The tree, a massive pine, had turned grey and lifeless, and the needles fell like snow around him as it died.


    He looked back down at his upturned palm, his grief turning to focused anger. "That''s right. I''m going to turn over every stone, look in every crack, until I find you. And I''m going to drain the life out of every one of you." Aran closed his fist, joints creaking. "You want to kill my friends? I''m going to end your whole world, you fucking elf.¡±


    He stood, feeling in control again. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. He had no idea where he was, or how to get back to town. If they¡¯d even let him back in. He pushed the thought from his mind, he wouldn¡¯t know until he returned. Standing, he turned.


    He stood at the edge of a small clearing at the mouth of the tunnel, densely packed forest in every direction. The trees and ground were clear of snow, though his breath still fogged the air. The cold had no hold on him, but he still zipped up his jacked out of habit. He walked the perimeter of the clearing, looking for any sign of recent passage. Aran figured he¡¯d been brought here, and he could retrace his steps, but he was no outdoorsman, and the whole area looked untouched to his untrained eyes. He sighed in frustration. He had no idea where he was, and no idea what direction Burville was in.


    He sat down, contemplative. If he had only been able to remember the direction the elf had brought him, he could start that way, with a rough heading from the position of the sun. They had been going roughly north when they¡¯d encountered the elf, but from there¡­ He sighed again. That was his only clue at this point, so might as well try heading south. Eventually he¡¯d run into a road or a town, and hopefully be able to orient himself from there. Looking up at the sun still rising, he put it on his left, and started walking.


    -----------


    Mayor Ellis drummed his fingers on his wide teak desk. He knew it was a sign of impatience, but allowed himself the indulgence, if only to put others off. The others in the room stood straighter, visibly uncomfortable. Well, nearly all of them. One younger man reclined in one of the antique wooden chairs near the wall, eyes glassy and clearly bored.


    ¡°Well, ah, we still haven¡¯t found any trace of the 3rd squad sir, but we¡¯ve seen increased sightings as you know, and the number of attacks daily has swelled. 5th squad took a casualty last night, and two other members were wounded severely. Both are now hospitalized, in stable condition¡­¡± the gangly man paused. ¡°Sir, I think the search for 3rd squad should be halted, at least for now. The town needs-¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± The tall woman to the right of the desk stepped forward, fists bunched. ¡°What do you mean, halted? What if it was your ass out there in the cold, Michaels? Wouldn¡¯t you want us searching for you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean permanently, I just think that we need to make sure the town is safe first, and¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop.¡± The word was said quietly, but immediately both parties silenced. The Mayor continued, ¡°It¡¯s been three days. It¡¯s extremely unlikely any of the 3rd are still alive. You know this as well as I do, Elaine. We don¡¯t have the numbers to keep searching while the attacks are coming so frequently. And we still don¡¯t have any evidence as to why they¡¯ve increased.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t we?¡± All eyes in the room turned to the handsome young man, as his eyes focused on the rest of them. ¡°We suddenly find the first survivor in weeks, the team training him goes missing on his first watch, and immediately afterwards more monsters start attacking our teams?¡±


    The others shifted in place, glancing at one another. The gangly man spoke up, ¡°But why would he betray us? And how would a human make the monsters attack us?¡±


    ¡°How exactly do we know he was human? I heard the reports, just like you. Gray skin, strange markings across his body, and those eyes. How do we know it wasn¡¯t some new creature, sent to weaken us? 3rd squad was the most veteran, correct?¡±


    Several pairs of brows furrowed. ¡°And even they disappeared without a trace. It lines up.¡±


    ¡°So, what? Now we¡¯ve got some evil gray man running around? Ridiculous. Next we¡¯ll be suspicious of everyone in town.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should be.¡± This sobered the room quickly, as the young man continued. ¡°This newcomer said he¡¯d been changed by the radiation of the bomb dropped on Welksfield, right?¡± Mayor Ellis nodded. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t he have a trace of radiation on him? When he arrived, we confiscated all of his belongings, and I ran tests on them. There wasn¡¯t even a hint of radioactivity. I even tried cranking up the voltage on the geiger counter, not a peep. Even our clothes would give off a greater reading, just from being in sunlight. Whatever that person, that gray thing, was, it sure as hell wasn¡¯t around any radiation. And it wasn¡¯t human.¡±

 Ch. 13 The Other

    Aran walked through the woods, sun now high overhead, trickling through the leaves. He was focused on making as little noise as possible, while still making good time. He had no illusions he could sneak around like¡­ Well like others could, but he hoped he could avoid drawing the attention of anything out here, as long as he didn¡¯t get too close. Very early on in this trek, he¡¯d noticed claw marks on some of the trees. Big ones. It could be bears, or something worse. Either way, he had no desire to find out, so he¡¯d been moving extra quietly since he¡¯d begun seeing them.


    The woods here were quiet, and he¡¯d encountered no roads, or anything resembling human civilization. He¡¯d taken to a zig-zag pattern for his path, to hopefully increase his chances of seeing any signs, moving in wide arcs east and west as he continued south. After several hours of this, most of it spent in a sort of half-crouching walk, he stopped to take a break. He still wasn¡¯t hungry, he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d actually eaten, but his thighs were getting sore from the constant pose. He checked the area, moving in a circle about 20 feet wide, but found no sign of any other creatures, and no claw marks.


    Satisfied, he sat, resting against the trunk of a large pine. The sun peeked through a large gap in the forest ceiling, spilling onto him and warming him pleasantly. He closed his eyes, basking in the quiet serenity of the forest. He sighed, the soft grass and sun warmed tree putting him at ease. He found himself drifting off, and didn¡¯t fight it. He¡¯d just take a short nap, then keep on searching.


    ---------


    It had stopped moving. It appeared to be sleeping, but that could just as easily be a trap. The creatures of this place were crafty, although this one appeared to be alone. Bu¡¯umo had alerted her the moment something had entered their territory, though he¡¯d been unable to define what, exactly. She glanced down, seeing his reassuring form hidden in the brush below her. Bu¡¯umo did not communicate with words, exactly, but he knew what a human was. Which was why it was so concerning he had not called this thing one.


    She took a deep breath, catching the scent of the wood, Bu¡¯umo¡¯s scent wafting up to her below. She could smell the small birds nest, a few trees over, left fallow, and beginning to decay; the burrowing creature beneath the ground, hibernating peacefully.


    She didn¡¯t smell human.


    Human¡¯s smelled of dirt, sweat, fear and death. Whatever this creature was, he smelled¡­ warm. Like sunlight just before dusk. She shook her head. That didn¡¯t make sense. Taking another breath, she focused. She could smell the tang of blood, the crisp smell of mana muddled beneath, but still there. And behind it all, another smell, one she couldn¡¯t place. Still, they¡¯d been following this one all afternoon, the fact that the smell of mana lingered was concerning, only powerful magic would have left such a strong remnant.


    Bu¡¯umo agreed, feelings of caution and patience wafting over their mind-bridge. She assented. The creature did not seem overly dangerous, but it had strayed too far into their territory. The human tongue was foreign to her, but there were ways around that if speech was needed.


    Her tail flicked, as anticipation thrilled through her. She stood, limb swaying softly beneath, and leapt, landing gracefully between the roots of a tree without a sound. Her ears twitched, alert for any change in the sleeping form¡¯s breathing. She waited a moment, but it didn¡¯t move. She passed through the brush between them, stepping out into the small clearing beneath the tree, into full view, waiting.


    The creature still slept.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    She furrowed her brows, releasing a breath, and her presence. Yet still, it slept. Did it not detect her even now? Or was it so strong it didn¡¯t care? She hesitantly stepped closer, even more cautious. She was close enough now that its smell was pervasive, overpowering the smells of the forest. His smell, she corrected. She could definitely smell maleness, this close. She stepped closer, almost upon him now. He wore several layers of clothing, though they appeared loose fitting, and not suited to combat, but definitely of human make.


    As she looked closer, she had to admit he looked quite different from the other humans. The strange coloration of the skin, like ashes the morning after a fire. And he didn¡¯t even try to conceal his presence, unlike the other humans she¡¯d found bumbling about the forest. Although this close, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, in regular pulses, and she could practically see the mana within him, it was so potent. She took a step closer, crouching over his prone form.


    The smell from before was so strong now. Closing her eyes, she let it wash over her. It was strangely comforting, and she let out a sigh. Opening her eyes, she looked back down.


    Bright green eyes stared back at her, blinking slowly.


    -----------


    Aran stared up, eyes wide. The strange creature looming over him cocked its head, features hidden behind a mask. His mind lethargic, slowly caught up to the situation. He¡¯d fallen asleep under the tree, sunlight warming him. Glancing up, the sun was beginning to set. So this wasn¡¯t a dream. He rolled to the side, popping up to his feet, assuming what he hoped was a threatening pose.


    The creature hopped back, crouching, arms up displaying some vicious looking nails. Aran blinked, focusing on the creature before him. And¡­ stopped. A simple brown sleeveless shirt, and cutoff pants were all it wore, besides the featureless mask covering its face. He considered for a moment if he was still dreaming. Under the clothing was skin as pale as snow, with short white fur  along the forearms and shins. But what rooted him, was the thick furred bushy white tale, and the twin triangles of distinctly animalistic ears atop its head. A mane of shaggy white hair draped around the mask and over what he could now see was a ¡°her¡±, shoulders.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Was all he could say, standing in this strange stand-off. He stood straight, scratching his head. Surely this was a dream, then. Because that was most definitely a fox girl. Or¡­ maybe a wolf? Evil elves notwithstanding, this was far outside the realm of what he considered possible. A strange rasping sound broke him out of his thoughts, back to the being in front of him.


    She was still crouched slightly, but her head had tilted up slightly, in slightly jerking motions. He suddenly realized she was sniffing. He almost laughed at the absurdity, were it not for the very dangerous looking nails she was sporting. He continued to stare until she seemed to have smelled her fill, panning her shadowed gaze back to him. The mask obscured even her eyes, leaving him unsure of the look she leveled at him. Still, she hadn¡¯t attacked yet. He eyed her cautiously, ready for any sign of aggression.


    ¡°So, uh, do you speak English?¡± He tried, feeling a bit foolish.


    Her head cocked, still silently staring at him.


    ¡°Uh. Did you¡­ want something?¡± He chuckled quietly. This is ridiculous. I¡¯ve got to be dreaming. ¡°Can you speak? Or understand me at all?¡± He said, miming hearing something with a hand cupped to his ear. The strange ears atop her head twitched, but still, nothing.


    ¡°Er. Well, I¡¯m Aran. Aran!¡± He said, pointing to himself. He then pointed at her. ¡°And you are¡­?¡± Her tail swept across the grass, the sound like soft sheets out to dry.


    ¡°Naya.¡±


    He blinked. Years of tv had prepared him for a soft, sweet voice, but hers was surprisingly deep, though still soft. Still, she¡¯d answered! Progress!


    ¡°Okay, uh, what¡­¡± He stopped himself. Probably rude to ask what someone is. ¡°Why were you standing over me while I slept? You¡¯re not trying to kill me, so what do you want?¡±


    She seemed to struggle for a moment before replying. ¡°These forest¡­ mine. You smell¡­ different.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I smell? Sorry, I don¡¯t know when my last bath was¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Wait, this forest is yours? What do you mean? Where did you come from?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Too fast. Your tongue¡­ difficult.¡± She stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Aran immediately put his hands up, ready for the attack. She stopped as soon as he did so, putting her hands up. ¡°No, no fight. Share.¡±


    Aran stared at her, unmoving. She moved closer, within arms reach now, hands still up. ¡°No fight.¡± She reached out, touching his hands, making him jerk away. ¡°No fight,¡± she repeated, voice placating. She reached for his hands, grasping them and intertwining her fingers. ¡°Share,¡± she said, meeting his gaze with what he now saw were amber eyes behind the mask.


    He felt mana in her grasp, beckoning him. He allowed a sliver of his own to travel down his arms, a tendril reaching out to her. When they met, his mind exploded.

 Ch. 14

    Aran sat before the fire, prodding the burning logs with a stick. Naya had silently offered some meat she¡¯d cooked earlier, but he¡¯d declined. He didn¡¯t want to try eating again just yet. Maybe once he understood how his powers worked better. He looked across the flames, seeing her watching him, eyes meeting.


    When their mana had met, a flood of information had passed between them in an instant. He now knew she was one of the  Talani, a race of fox-like humanoids, and their surprisingly simple language. Even subtle queues like their body language had been passed across, though he was still processing that bit, as some of it conflicted with his instincts when communicating. He had attempted to smile at her afterwards to show his appreciation, but a strong instinct had overwhelmed him, making him stop. Apparently showing teeth was considered an act of aggression, or a way of showing off to a potential mate, neither of which he had been going for. He¡¯d opted instead for a tight lipped smile, to which she¡¯d nodded. After their exchange, she¡¯d briefly touched her temple and said in perfect english: ¡°I need time to process. We¡¯ll make camp, then talk.¡±


    Once they¡¯d sat down at the fire, she¡¯d removed the mask, revealing surprisingly delicate features. White eyebrows complimented the fur and hair, resting above those piercing amber eyes, which seemed to glow in the firelight. Her nose was slightly upturned and darkened to black at the tip, reminding him she was definitely not human. Her mouth was slightly downturned, and all of it was framed by a slightly angular face. She wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d call classically beautiful, but he had to admit her face was nice. When she¡¯d begun eating, he¡¯d caught a glimpse of the large, sharp canines that lent her a more intimidating look.


    A soft growl vibrated over the night air, making Aran jump. The large rock Naya was leaning against shifted, adjusting its legs. Bu¡¯umo, he was called apparently, though Aran wasn¡¯t sure if that was the species or a name, Naya had been vague, simply pointing at the large creature when it had first appeared, nearly giving him a heart attack. As best Aran could tell, it was some sort of chameleon-bear hybrid, but larger than any bear he¡¯d ever seen. His skin reminded Aran of documentaries he¡¯d seen about an octopus, the way it could change its texture and color, which happened regularly to mask his presence. Naya and Bu¡¯umo seemed to share some sort of bond. She never spoke to him, and he hardly ever made a sound beyond the occasional soft rumble, but she seemed to always know where he was, and what he was doing. Aran had attempted to ask about the creature, but Naya had sent a glance that shut off that topic of conversation immediately. Since then, they hadn¡¯t spoken much beyond her telling him to sit at the fire.


    Which brought them to the present. He sat quietly, contemplating as she finished her meal. This marked the second non-human he¡¯d met, and he could only wonder if there were more species already on earth. Which brought a more pressing concern: why? The Judges had said humanity would have to fight, but after the first few days of monsters rampaging, and what he¡¯d seen of Burville he¡¯d taken the proclamation to mean just a fight for survival. And if human history had proven anything, it was that humans could adapt. But first the elf, and now Naya had shown up. Both of whom seemed to know a good deal of magic, while humans seemed to be struggling just to survive. And while Naya did not seem bent on killing him now, other races only sounded like one thing to Aran: war.


    He shook his head. But why? Why would the Judges, seemingly omnipotent gods, just show up on earth, and force humanity to fight other races, and he had to assume other worlds, to survive? He thought back to his meeting with Night, and the incredible power she¡¯d used to hold him without effort. Now her, he could see trying to take over a whole planet. Still though, he felt like he was in the dark, with more questions than answers. And if more races were going to show up on earth, it would only make it more difficult to find Narcin in the chaos.


    He sighed. He needed answers. He looked across the fire, to find Naya staring back at him. He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous at the prospect of speaking after so long.


    ¡°You have questions,¡± she said, eyes boring into him.


    ¡°Um, yeah. Wha- Who are you? And why are you here? I mean, like, this planet. Not the forest¡­¡± he trailed off as she nodded. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°I am Naya, as you know. I came here¡­ because Bu¡¯umo and I wanted a new place to live. The Great Ones summoned a new Gate, and those of my people with the strength and desire were allowed to pass through. Bu¡¯umo and I¡­ we wanted to see this new place, and claim what we could before it is taken. It¡¯s been many years since the last Gate was open, long before our time. It takes great magic to travel between worlds without the Gates, so we took the chance.¡±


    Aran rocked back, trying to process all of this new information. ¡°Wow. That was¡­ surprisingly informative. So, does that mean there are more of your people nearby?¡±


    Naya shook her head, somewhat ruefully. ¡°No, the Gate places you where it wishes. This is why it is such a risk to go through, you could arrive in a cave beneath the sea, or in the den of a great hungry beast. Though I have not seen any beasts that could best Bu¡¯umo since we arrived.¡± The large rock snorted in agreement.


    ¡°And, these Great Ones, is that what you call the Judges? That sent all the obelisks?¡±


    Her brow furrowed. ¡°White obelisks, made of crystal?¡± Aran nodded. ¡°Yes, though the word in our language does not have the same meaning. They rule the cosmos, and when a world is ready, they elevate it, and¡­ ¡®grant the people self determination¡¯, as the elders would say.¡± Her voice had lowered, thick with ridicule with this last statement.


    Aran raised an eyebrow. ¡°What is that supposed to mean? They said we¡¯d have to fight for supremacy, then hordes of monsters attacked.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s all a load of dung. Our Elders like to say that, but only because our world lost the fight. The ¡®fight for supremacy¡¯ as you put is really just all out war for the Judges entertainment. They grant magic to fledgling worlds, then set them up to get destroyed by other races who want to conquer them. It¡¯s different every time, supposedly, but there¡¯s always war. And the new world rarely wins.¡±


    They sat in silence for a moment, the heavy words saturating the air. Naya sighed. ¡°My apologies. I do not mean to dissuade you from trying. I am simply bitter.¡±


    Aran glanced down at the coals. ¡°What happened when your people lost?¡±


    It was a long time before she answered, and when she did, her voice was quiet, barely a whisper above the sound of the crackling fire. ¡°We were pushed to the edge of extinction. My people are not warriors. The race that conquered our world stripped it of resources, turning most of it into an icy waste. Then they abandoned it, leaving us to scrape by on the dregs they missed. We were farmers, before the Great Ones arrived. Before they put us on the chopping block, dicing our world up for the next one to devour. Even with the magic they brought, we can barely feed ourselves. It¡¯s been over a thousand years since we lost, and still our world is barely able to support us.¡± She breathed deeply of the crisp night air.


    ¡°When new worlds are elevated, a Gate opens on each world, to send through warriors. I came, because there is barely enough food to go around. Once this world¡¯s fate is decided, win or lose, there will be a Gate back home. I can bring back food, and help. That¡¯s why I came.¡± She fixed her eyes on Aran once more. ¡°That is enough of talk for one night, and I am tired from forming the link. We will speak more tomorrow, then you will leave.¡± She said, abruptly turning, tail swishing as she curled up next to Bu¡¯umo.


    ¡°Er, yeah. Okay,¡± he muttered awkwardly, laying on his back next to the log he¡¯d been sitting on, letting the warmth of the fire seep into him. He stared up at the stars, imagining countless enemies among them, before finally drifting off to sleep.


    -------


    Naya laid beneath the stars, completely unable to sleep. Her tail twitched, and she wrapped it tighter around her. She could feel the steady rhythm of Bu¡¯umo¡¯s breathing beside her, the rise and fall of his body normally put her right to sleep. The stranger slept soundly across the remains of the fire, judging by his breathing. Her tail twitched again. She didn¡¯t really know why she¡¯d approached him. Or made the bridge with a stranger. That was reserved for close allies and family. This human was neither. And yet, she found herself trusting him. The bridge they had formed had shown her much. Her understanding of their language had improved dramatically, but she understood more of him as well. The meaning behind words was implicitly tied to the experiences they described. She could still feel the bond, echoing across the space between them. It would fade with time, but she could still feel the warmth in his mana, that belied an inferno hiding just beneath. When their mana had connected, she thought she might pass out from the sheer power in it. It felt like an entire star¡¯s energy was contained within him, roiling just beneath the surface.


    And yet, he seemed to be completely unaware. She rolled over to look at his still form. His power was uncontrolled and wild, she could feel his presence clearly, as she had the instant he¡¯d entered her stretch of forest. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, which while slightly endearing, made him dangerous. He was like a child, walking around with more power than Naya had ever heard of. A child in a world that might soon be a wasteland. She shook herself, pulling her tail close. No. Aran had to leave, tomorrow. She was here to gather resources and return home to save her people. She could not afford to make friends with the native inhabitants. She¡¯d already felt the presence of the Telin. If they were already here, this world was doomed. Best to quietly go about her business before the Gate reopened.

 Ch. 15 The Worlds Getting Smaller

    Aran woke to silence. He sat up, shaking off the dregs of slumber. The fire had gone out overnight, and a layer of frost covered everything. Naya and Bu¡¯umo were nowhere in sight, only a slight depression in the grass a reminder of the huge beast. He rubbed his eyes, looking around. The forest around him was utterly still in the light of early dawn. He stood and stretched, the soft scrape of his shoes on the ground sounding very loud in the stillness. He took a short walk around the cleared area of the camp, looking for any sight of the others, but finding none.


    With a shrug, he sat down with his back against the log from last night. He still had no idea where he was, so he figured he might as well wait for them to return. His mind returned to the strange connection he¡¯d formed with Naya the previous day. Glancing down at his hand, he closed his eyes, urging mana to run along his connections. He focused on his hand, searching. There: it had faded, but the imprint of a pattern remained on the connections in that area remained. It looked like a funnel, and as he looked closer, running his mana back through it, he could see the design more clearly. As he poured more mana into the connection he could feel¡­ something. Something almost familiar-


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    He jumped, making a high ¡°yip!¡± sound as he leapt to his feet, finding Naya standing behind him, arms crossed as her tail flicked back and forth behind her. A part of his brain recognized that as a sign of irritation from the new memories.


    ¡°Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.¡± He muttered, lowering his fists.


    ¡°What were you doing just now? Were you trying to spy?¡± Her amber eyes were narrowed, staring daggers.


    Aran threw up his hands. ¡°Woah, no. I was just looking at the point our, uh, mana touched yesterday. I was looking at the pattern.¡±


    She stood there another moment, staring intently at him, before sighing. ¡°That is the bridge. A bond used for sharing information or experience between minds. It will fade with time, but until it does, we remain connected. I only used it so that we could converse, it is normally reserved for those with a¡­ closer relationship. If you continue to use it, it will become permanent. It is considered very rude to use it without the consent of the other party.¡± She said this while directing a very poignant look at him.


    ¡°Oh, uh, sorry, I-I didn¡¯t mean to. Sorry.¡±


    She waved a furred hand through the air lazily. ¡°It is fine. It will fade in a few days. However, since I am here, I have a few questions of my own.¡±


    She sat at the other side of the coals, crossing her legs under her as her tail wrapped around her waist. She looked at him, expectantly, until he took the hint and sat as well.


    She cut straight to the point. ¡°You do not look like other humans. Why?¡±


    If he¡¯d had something to drink, he¡¯d have choked. As it was, he coughed, surprised. ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± He glanced down at his hands, his grey skin strange looking to him even now. ¡°I¡­ do you know what a bomb is?¡± He suddenly asked, unsure how to explain otherwise. To his relief, she nodded, but did not interrupt.


    ¡°Okay, so we have these bombs that can split an atom, and it releases this poisonous radiation. When all of this¡­¡± He gestured broadly. ¡°...happened, monsters attacked my home town. Well, somebody, the government I think, dropped one of these bombs on it. I survived, but when I was leaving the city, the radiation -the poison, I mean- changed me. I passed out, and I woke up a month later. And now, I look like this. I don¡¯t really understand the science, or magic or whatever, so I¡¯m still figuring out everything that changed.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Naya had remained silent while Aran explained, and now she just looked at him curiously. ¡°Why was this bomb dropped when you were still in this city?¡±


    He laughed harshly. ¡°You¡¯ve got me. I know at least one other person was there with me, and she¡¯s¡­ well she wasn¡¯t so lucky. Though I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d call myself lucky.¡±


    Naya nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of traumatic events changing people before, but this does seem a bit different. And I am unfamiliar with this ¡®radiation¡¯ but it must be quite powerful to have done this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an understatement. Before the Judges, radiation like this was pretty much always fatal. Not to mention the bomb, I¡¯ve never even heard of someone surviving one. I¡¯m not really sure I qualify as human anymore though.¡±


    Naya cocked her head, curious. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t eat or drink anymore. And the cold doesn¡¯t bother me, anymore. And, I have these weird powers now. But, I don¡¯t really know if that¡¯s weird now. Everyone has powers, I guess? Ha, the whole world is weird.¡± He shook his head, smiling grimly.


    ¡°Hmmm. Well, does it matter if you are? You said it yourself, you no longer need sustenance. That sounds like a good thing. And having abilities makes you something more, not less.¡±


    He stared at her, surprised. ¡°Uh, yeah I guess. Thank you.¡±


    She turned, eyes closed as she scratched a cheek. ¡°Do not mention it. It is simple logic.¡±


    She stood abruptly. ¡°Bu¡¯umo has finished his morning hunt, and I have answers to my questions. We will escort you to the edge of our territory, come.¡± She turned on her heel, and began walking to the edge of the woods.


    Aran blinked, before hopping to his feet and striding behind her. ¡°Wait! I have no idea where we are! You¡¯re just going to get me to the edge of your territory? Where do I go from there?¡±


    She pulled up short, turning to him as he caught up. ¡°You do not know where you are? Did you not walk into this forest?¡± She eyed him, eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Uh, well, sort of. Technically yes. But I woke up in a hole in the ground, and I don¡¯t know how to get back to town.¡±


    Naya frowned. This human¡¯s story was getting more complicated all the time. ¡°What town is this? I do not know the names, but I have seen some human settlements nearby.¡±


    ¡°Wait, settlements? There''s more than one?¡±


    ¡°Yes, though it has been some time since I scouted them. Most creatures avoid this area since we staked our claim, but I do not know if the settlements remain. Describe the town you search for.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s called Burville. It¡¯s got a wall, with stone towers all the way around.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm. There wasn¡¯t a full wall built when last I saw it, but I believe that is due east from here. About a day¡¯s walk from the edge of our territory.¡±


    ¡°Really? Oh hell yeah!¡± Aran grinned. Naya narrowed her eyes at him. His incisors were nothing to brag about, why was he flashing them at her? After a moment¡¯s deliberation, she brushed it off, it was likely unintentional, especially with such unimpressive teeth.


    ¡°Yes. I will escort you to the edge of my territory, then you will continue on your way.¡± Saying this, she turned away from her initial path, forging a new one in the new direction.


    Aran stepped quickly, making sure to stay close so he didn¡¯t get lost. ¡°Thanks Naya, I appreciate it. Especially seeing as how we just met and all.¡±


    ¡°It is nothing. I merely wish for you to leave my forest, and I do not wish to form a hostile relationship with nearby humans.¡±


    ¡°Still, thank you. You¡¯re the second person I¡¯ve met who wasn¡¯t human, and you¡¯re way better than him. I was sure you were going to try and kill me at first.¡±


    ¡°Please, I am not some barbaric¡­¡± She stopped. ¡°I am the second?¡± She turned, stepping very close to him, staring into his eyes. ¡°Who did you meet?¡±


    Aran put his hands up, surprised by her sudden intensity. ¡°This¡­ I mean it sounds weird to say it out loud, but he was this elf.¡± His face darkened at the memory. ¡°I¡¯m going to find him, and wring every ounce of power in that asshole.¡±


    Naya peered up at him, brows drawn. ¡°Elf? I recognize your word, but I don¡¯t recognize it as a race.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Tall, dark skin, white hair, pointy ears?¡± He motioned, pulling little triangles near his ears. Naya¡¯s reaction surprised him though. Her ears laid flat atop her head, and she bared her teeth.


    She grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him even closer. ¡°A Muunin? One is here?!¡±


    ¡°Yeah. He killed my friends.¡± He stared right back, anger burning away the awkwardness of being so close. She released her hold on him, taking a step back.


    ¡°I- I apologize. The Muunin are notoriously cruel. We have only stories of them, they rarely join in the conquest of new worlds, but when they do, they are vicious and underhanded.¡±


    ¡°Sounds about right. He killed my friends, just to send a message.¡± Aran didn¡¯t feel like going into the details, memories too fresh.


    Naya nodded, face drawn. ¡°I am sorry. We should go, though. If there is a Muunin about, I will need to prepare, in case we cross paths. And you should warn your people. Especially if you managed to escape an encounter with one. They hold long grudges.¡±


    ¡°Right. Lead the way.¡± Aran followed quietly, mood soured with memories of the dark cave and the sight of his companions'' faces withering as they died.

 Ch. 16 Sweet Sorrow

    Naya led the way at a brisk pace. They¡¯d make it to the edge of their range by dusk at this rate, but her anxiety made her want to push them faster. She turned, seeing the clumsy human crashing through the brush behind her. She sighed, slowing her pace once more. Better to take it slow. Otherwise, they¡¯d attract far too much attention, and leave a trail straight back to her favorite camp. As it was she¡¯d have to repair the damage he was doing, she didn¡¯t want to have to erase even more.


    Bu¡¯umo was scouting ahead, making sure the path was clear, and searching for any sign of the Muunin. Both of them were full of anxiety at the thought of encountering one here. The Muunin were essentially boogeymen in the Talani legends, always hiding in the shadows, waiting to slit your throat when you least expected it. They would need to set wards around their territory, strengthen the hold they had over the area, and soon. Having a defensible area would be critical once the fighting started, and they hadn¡¯t had a chance to reap any of the crops she¡¯d been growing yet. If she had to abandon this place, it would mean nearly a month of wasted effort.


    She shook her head. No, she had to think positively. And plan for every eventuality.


    ----


    Aran focused on keeping pace with Naya as she darted through the brush. She seemed to melt into the forest, despite her bright fur, making it difficult to keep track of her. He couldn¡¯t help but admire the way she moved, gracefully leaping over logs and brush, and the way she bounded from foot to foot, no movement wasted, her tail moving from side to side, soundless as she ran. He shook his head. Focus! Her tail had diverted his attention, and now he was falling behind again.


    He circulated a bit of mana through his limbs, and put on a burst of speed, suddenly feeling lighter, and caught up to her easily. He saw her glance back at him, face inscrutable beneath her mask.


    ¡°You¡¯re being too loud. Stay close, and focus on being silent.¡± She said, voice barely more than a whisper even as she ran.


    He nodded, berating himself mentally. She¡¯d clearly stated the dangers out here, and he was getting distracted by her tail of all things. He focused on his feet, trying to place them where she had stepped, while also keeping track of where they were headed. After a few minutes it became abundantly clear he was not very good at doing both. Instead, he focused only on keeping quiet, trusting Naya to guide them in the right direction.


    They kept up that pace for hours, only stopping when Aran couldn¡¯t keep running, taking short breaks. He kept a steady flow of mana circulating which helped immensely, but he¡¯d never run this long or this far before, and it showed. And even without the constantly circulating mana, he could tell that he was far more able than he should be. He¡¯d never been in great shape, and rarely did more running than was strictly mandated back in high school. And yet after their short breaks, usually only 4 or 5 minutes, he felt completely refreshed. So it was that he was still feeling good as the sun began to set, shadows falling across Naya¡¯s lithe form as she ran, making it look as if she was stepping in and out of reality, the way she nearly disappeared in the shade.


    They kept going into the night, but had to slow their pace, as Aran could barely see in the dark, the shadows melding to make the forest floor a nearly invisible obstacle course. After a while, Naya slowed her pace to a walk, breathing deeply as she sniffed the night air.


    ¡°We¡¯ll stop here for the night. We are nearly at the edge, and there is little point in continuing to have you blunder through the trees.¡± She said, edges of her mouth upturned in a small smile as she took off her mask. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Aran huffed a laugh. ¡°How generous of you. I can barely see a thing out here.¡±


    She sat on the ground, knees up as she leaned against a tree. ¡°Do not worry. I can see well enough for the both of us. And Bu¡¯umo will soon be here to keep watch while we sleep.¡±


    He nodded, mimicking her relaxed pose against the adjacent tree. ¡°Does he not need to sleep?¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you or I. And he¡¯s a very light sleeper, regardless. He will protect us.¡± She smiled again as the bushes moved to her left, and a long, shadowy snout poked out. She ran a hand along it, scratching his thick hide beneath the jaw full of serrated teeth. ¡°Thank you.¡± She turned back to Aran, amber eyes seeming to catch and reflect the meager starlight filtering through the trees. ¡°Now, we sleep. We will wake early and take you to the boundary. I will ensure you are pointed in the correct direction, and you will return to your people.¡±


    Aran sighed, leaning his head back. ¡°Sounds good.¡±


    She cocked her head, a gesture he was coming to realize was a habit of hers. ¡°You do not seem pleased. Do you not wish to return to your fellow humans?¡±


    He grimaced. ¡°Am I really so easy to see through? No, its not that I don¡¯t want to go back, it''s just¡­ Well, I¡¯m pretty new here, and some people died because of me. I doubt any explanation I can give is going to be good enough. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they refused to let me back into town.¡±


    Naya was quiet for a moment before responding. ¡°I would not think so harshly of your people. You¡¯re whole world is changing, and tragedies have no doubt befallen many, including you. They would be foolish to turn away help when it is offered.¡±


    They lapsed into silence, as the shadows deepened. ¡°Thanks, Naya. I appreciate you helping me find my way back.¡±


    She waved a hand dismissively, eyes closed. ¡°It is nothing. I am simply escorting you out of my territory. I am simply relieved you had no ill intent in your unintentional invasion.¡±


    Aran chuckled quietly, sleep threatening to overtake him. ¡°Thats funny. I had no idea you were even there until I woke up with you standing over me. Lucky me¡­¡± His head drooped to the side as he finally succumbed to a dreamless sleep.


    --------


    They rose at dawn, grey light filtering through the pines turning the world a washed out mix of greys and greens. Naya had already been awake for some time, eating a light breakfast of some berries and some hard bread-like food when Aran finally stirred, refreshed. She¡¯d offered him some of her food, before recalling he didn¡¯t need to anymore, pulling the proffered food back with a slight blush of embarrassment. He waved off her apology, unbothered.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve gotten used to it now, so don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    She nodded in thanks, finishing her small meal quickly before rising to her feet. Bu¡¯umo rose as well, skin now a dappled mixture of shifting brown and green. He shook, massive claws digging furrows in the dirt as he stretched, before nuzzling Naya¡¯s shoulder briefly before shuffling off into the brush. It amazed Aran how quickly he could simply disappear, as huge as he was.


    Naya stretched, arms over her head as she arched her back in the morning air, tail slowly swishing across the ground. Aran found his eyes drawn to her as the morning light reflected off her snow white hair. She really was quite pretty, and her long white hair framed her face perfectly. She finished her stretch, lowering her arms and gaze to look over at him. He found himself staring, and schooled his face to an impassive look. He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes as he stood, brushing off loose bits of dirt and moss.


    She continued to look at him, eyes intent, before she turned, facing east as the rising sun seemed to outline her in gold. ¡°Come. It is not far now.¡± She started walking briskly, not waiting for him to catch up.


    They¡¯d only been walking for a few hours when she slowed, coming to a stop next to a large oak tree, branches bare of leaves, forming skeletal fingers that seemed to grasp for the sky above. She laid a hand against the bark of the trunk, sighing quietly.


    ¡°This is as far as I go. From here, if you continue straight, you will reach the human settlement in a day at a run, two if you walk as we have this morning.¡±


    Aran stepped up beside her, nervous, but feeling strangely melancholy at the thought of returning to town. He turned to face her. ¡°Thanks, Naya. I can¡¯t thank you enough for getting me here. You could have had Bu¡¯umo just eat me or something, so thanks.¡± He said, a small smile on his face, careful not to show his teeth.


    She smiled in return. ¡°There is no thanks necessary. Besides, Bu¡¯umo probably wouldn¡¯t like the way you taste anyway.¡± They both chuckled at that. ¡°Farewell, Aran. I wish you luck in the coming months. I only ask you not reveal my presence here.¡±


    ¡°Of course, wouldn¡¯t dream of it. Our secret. See you, Naya. I hope you get everything you need to save your home.¡± Aran stood there a moment longer, not sure what else to say. So he nodded, said one last ¡°Thank you,¡± and walked away. A few feet in, he turned to wave, but she¡¯d already vanished. He smiled, a little sadly, before continuing on his way.

 Ch. 17 Labwork

    Benjamin Crenshaw sat at his wide stone desk, absentmindedly tapping a pen against his lips. An array of papers lay before him, covered in his thoughts and notes on the apocalypse. He shook his head, eyeing the mess of papers. He put his pen down, exactly flush with the edge of the table, and began sorting the pages. Theory notes on the left, diagrams to the side. His diary of events front and center. And finally, his catalogue to the right. This was by far the largest stack of papers, as he was constantly adding to the pile, and revising old assertions.


    He smiled, looking at the top page. So much had changed.


    He¡¯d always been the reedy, bookish boy growing up. He¡¯d rather have his nose in a book than speak to others. He¡¯d had the importance of good grades drilled into his head since he could read, to the point of excluding all else. He still felt his heart swell with pride remembering the looks on his mother¡¯s face when he brought home his first science fair award. He¡¯d been hooked on it ever since. His singular focus on science and studies had made him a loaner, all his life. Even in college, he¡¯d neglected to make any real friends, and that suited him just fine.


    People were just tools, really.


    His bookish looks lent him a sort of innocence, a boyish charm. It put others at ease, which was all too useful. He¡¯d gotten a job at a pharmaceutical lab straight out of college, running drug trials. He loved the exact, methodical nature of the work, and it brought out the best in his skillset. He ran his thumb along a small scar across the back of his hand. His work demanded perfection, and any mistake could be costly.


    It was exactly this mindset that had allowed him to thrive now that the world as humanity knew it ended. Everything in the world existed in a set of rules. Whether they be unknown or discovered, the fact remained that there were always a set of governing laws. So it was simply the next step then, when he¡¯d discovered magic. He recalled it perfectly, so clear was the epiphany.


    Burville was being overrun. Beasts out of nightmare were tearing neighbors from their homes, loved ones from each other¡¯s arms. Benjamin had barricaded himself in his garage, feeling a sort of separated, vague panic, but focused moving his deep freeze in front of the interior door, careful not to open it. He didn¡¯t want anything to spoil in case the electricity cut out. He¡¯d locked the garage door, and wedged some wooden blocks in the rails to stop it from sliding.


    Then he¡¯d calmly sat on the floor, cold concrete numbing his legs, and read. He¡¯d already read the information the obelisks had distributed, of course. He¡¯d been one of the first to grab one of the small slivers of crystal. He¡¯d been skeptical of the claims put forth by the obelisks and their smaller counterparts, but it seemed at least they were speaking the truth about testing humanity. But that was not why he reread it now, as the screaming and sirens continued outside. No, he would need to test this mana, and its properties. The obelisk was a bit vague on how to use it, so he began experimenting.


    He¡¯d begun with attempting to feel the mana within himself, and while it was an exhausting mental exercise, he eventually succeeded, finding a small pocket of consciousness that seemed to buzz against within his mind. After that, it was simply a matter of testing what it could do. Of course, he was familiar with myths and some pop culture fantasies, so he tried to create fire first. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    He failed miserably, with absolutely no results. So he reevaluated his notions, and instead of trying to create, tried manipulating existing matter. And lying beneath him, separating his rear from dirt, was a wide swath of relatively homogenous material. His first attempts had been crude, just carving lines, or creating small hills out of the material.


    But he was far more creative than simple carvings.


    He¡¯d reinforced the garage door almost immediately, forming a solid defense. Then he¡¯d bored small holes through it, and the metal beyond it, watching. He didn¡¯t succeed the first day, but by the third day in his barricaded fortress, he had it down to, quite literally, a science.


    He smoothed the paper, making sure to align the edges with the stack. The young man stood, limbering up his back as he pushed his chair in, perfectly centered. He knew from experience that standing hunched over all evening would really hurt him in the morning, unless he stretched first. And any good medical journal would recommend stretching before physical activity. So he went through his stretches, making sure to relax his stringy muscles.


    He straightened, smoothing his shirt as he donned a lab coat, covering it with a thick, dark apron. He washed his hands thoroughly, making sure to scrub in each crevice of skin, until his skin was ruddy in the dim light of the room. Donning a fresh pair of gloves and a surgical mask, he walked into the next room.


    Feeding mana into the stone floor through the soles of his feet, he brought the kennel forward, stone flowing like water as his moved. The creature inside hissed and smashed against the grating, legs clicking as it twisted, trying to find any way out. With an exertion of will, the cage shifted, widening and flattening as the creature hissed more frantically, rapidly running out of room. The inside of the cage molded itself to the creature''s dimensions, only stopping once it was forced flat against the ground, legs splayed, completely immobilized. A hole opened in the stone across the beast¡¯s back, as the young man prepared his tools. Beneath his mask, Benjamin smiled. This one¡¯s thorax was 14% longer compared to its shoulder height. Perhaps a larger digestive tract? Or even an additional organ type?


    Only one way to find out. He picked up the scalpel, inspecting it for any sign of contamination. Depending on what he found today, he¡¯d have to update his catalogue again. He might even be up all night revising his notes. He moved a small box built into the side of one of the cages. A series of tubes ran out of the top, arching over the top of the cage in bunches. Each one ended in a needle, currently buried in the flesh of a massive creature chained to the wall. Reaching up, he pulled on a large lever rapidly to prime the pump. A soft whimper whispered through the bars of the cage. A steady drip of purple liquid flowed through the tubes, mixing in the boxe¡¯s receptacle before filling a small vial below.


    Grabbing the vial, he held it up to the firelight. It was slightly more viscous than usual, he¡¯d need a replacement soon. No matter. The mayor would provide a new one, and in return he would continue to provide solutions to the town¡¯s many problems. The thought reminded him of the missing rangers, and the strange grey imposter. His smile widened, eyes dilating at the thought. He hoped they found it soon, he couldn¡¯t wait to discover all it¡¯s secrets. Spirits high, he returned to the creature he would be researching tonight. He¡¯d designated this species as ¡®Arachnape¡¯, due to its spider like webbing, and eight long legs ending in disturbingly primate-like hands. He prepared the injection site, shaving the creature¡¯s back before disinfecting it¡¯s thick hide. He did some quick calculations for the injection based on the previous subject¡¯s reaction before quickly filling the syringe and plunging it into the beast. This was meant to be an experiment, after all. The creature struggled and shrieked, limbs unable to thrash within the cage. It gradually quieted, going still. He noted the time it took for the sedative to take effect, then grabbed the scalpel.


    Before he began cutting, he stepped on the switch to close the vents leading to the house above, unsealing his small laboratory. As the remaining citizens of Burville went about their evening, barring windows, eating small meals and hoping for salvation, they heard nothing from Mr. Crenshaw¡¯s small home. His magical research had saved all their lives, so they did not begrudge him his privacy.

 Ch. 18 Warm Welcome

    Aran strode through the forest, keeping up a pace of a quick walk. He was nowhere near as good as Naya out here, and without her to guide him, a slower pace was necessary to keep quiet. Though the sun was out, the woods were dark, and eerily silent as he moved. Now that he was on his own, his mind turned to getting back to civilization, and the complicated questions that would bring.


    Would they be angry with him, the only survivor? They barely knew him, and as far as they were concerned, he got three people killed. He had little doubt about how much weight his explanation would carry. The troubling part was that he didn¡¯t really have any proof. He didn¡¯t feel he could accurately direct them to the cave, and besides, it was several days away, and through Naya¡¯s woods. And beyond that, the dagger hadn¡¯t made any mark besided a hole in his shirt, and the brand was gone too. These thoughts troubled him, making him second guess returning to Burville altogether.


    No, he thought. I can¡¯t just live in the woods until the world ends, and if they just give me a chance, I can explain. The mayor seemed like kind of a dick, but a reasonable guy. Maybe he¡¯ll listen. Besides, these woods were creepy without Naya. Though Bu¡¯umo had been fairly intimidating, to say the least.


    Fallen pine needles crunched beneath his boots, making him cringe in embarrassment. He was not being very quiet. Though at least there wasn¡¯t any snow on the ground anymore, most of it having melted. He could do without wet socks. The thought of cold, wet feet made him shiver, before he considered it a bit more carefully. Would he feel cold from that anymore? He¡¯d walked barefoot in the snow for days without any issue, and as far as he could tell, he was none the worse for the experience. There was so much he didn¡¯t understand about what had really happened to him, and how he¡¯d changed. He needed someone to help him understand, so that he could learn some magic.


    Although¡­ Ben Crawford had made all those stone towers, right? That meant he¡¯d at least figured some of it out, maybe Aran could learn from him? He grinned. Maybe he could learn to shape stone too. Or through a fireball! If anything could make the apocalypse bearable, it would be throwing fireballs like Mario. He suppressed a chuckle at the thought, remembering to keep quiet. Hopefully that Ben guy could help.


    -------


    The next morning, after spending the night sleeping in a tree, again, he increased his pace towards the town. He was getting close, if Naya had given him good directions. Though he supposed she did tend to set a fast pace, so she might have underestimated how long it would take him. He shook his head. He¡¯d just have to see, and hope she was right.


    At around what he guessed was noon, he stumbled upon a road. It was old, and the pavement was mostly eroded to just patches on the mostly gravel path. His spirits soared. One step closer to getting back to a shower, and hopefully learning magic. On the road, he made much better time, sacrificing stealth for speed. He figured he could just run like hell if anything out here went after him.


    Strangely enough, he didn¡¯t see or hear anything on the path, however. The rangers had said monsters attacked the town frequently, so he¡¯d expected to at least see some sign of them out here. The silence of the forest surrounding him was deafening, his ears straining above the crunch of his boots on the gravel. He was so focused on listening that he didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d reached the town for several seconds after it came into view.


    With a start, he realized he¡¯d made it back. A surge of emotion washed through him. Elation, for finding other humans again. He felt victorious, having escaped that cave, and the terrors within. Sorrow at the loss of the others tempered it, however, tinged with anxiety at having to explain their loss to the Mayor. He put on a brave face, and approached the wall.


    The road curved through the trees, ending at one of the large towers, where he could just see the top of a ranger¡¯s head above the fortifications. He raised a hand to signal as he approached, calling out quietly, ¡°Hello! Hello!¡±


    The ranger on duty leapt up, eyes nearly falling out of his head as he leaned over the edge to see Aran walking out of the woods. He immediately rang the bell hanging above him, calling out incoherently. Aran raised an eyebrow. He¡¯d have thought they¡¯d keep it quiet, just like last time. He approached the base of the tower, looking up at the sheer stone. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    He tried again. ¡°Uh, hello? Sorry, I don¡¯t know if there''s a password or anything to get in. I, uh, well¡­¡± He stumbled. Where to begin? What was he supposed to say? ¡®Hey, we got attacked and everyone died but now I¡¯m back?¡¯ Well, that did just about cover it, but it didn¡¯t feel right to just be shouting about the others deaths like that. It was something to be spoken about in quiet conversation, somberly.


    The sound of grating stone made him jerk his eyes down, as the wall to the left slowly slid to the side, the sound of murmured voices coming from the other side. He took a hesitant step towards it, seeing what looked to be several rangers, all holding weapons, surrounding a young man who made placating gestures before turning and walking to the opening.


    A smile split his thin face, showing too many teeth. He spread his arms wide. ¡°Hello Mr. Briggs! We¡¯re so glad you¡¯re back. I apologize for the reception, the rangers weren¡¯t quite sure what to do when you arrived back out of the blue!¡±


    Aran looked away, eyes downcast. ¡°Oh, yeah, uh, I guess it would be odd. The others¡­ they didn¡¯t make it.¡± He looked back to the other man, whose narrowed eyes quickly assumed their open, inviting look from before.


    ¡°Yes, we were afraid that might be the case. But at least you survived! And made it back here in one piece, no less!¡± He cast a calculating gaze over Aran¡¯s mostly intact clothing. ¡°Come, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re tired, and we¡¯ll need to debrief you. I am Ben Crenshaw, in charge of the town¡¯s defense, I¡¯ll take you there.¡±


    With that, the man ushered Aran through the doorway, which closed with a thud behind them. The other rangers still stood there, staring as Aran passed with barely restrained hostility. Aran could practically feel their gaze on his back as they left the wall and walked down the narrow street.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get this all cleared up in the debrief,¡± Crenshaw said, looking at Aran¡¯s troubled expression. He smiled in what Aran assumed was supposed to be a reassuring way, but the man just came across as predatory. They turned a corner, coming to the Ranger barracks. Aran sighed with relief. ¡°Ah, yes, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re looking forward to a shower. We¡¯ll make sure you get one as soon as we¡¯re done,¡± the older man said, eyes glinting.


    As they entered the stone building, they passed through the central hall to a doorway in the rear, descending down a steep stairwell. At the bottom a narrow hallway filled with doors on either side greeted them. Crenshaw led them to a door partway down the corridor, opening it on silent hinges as Aran passed through into the sterile stone room. A table surrounded by four chairs sat in the otherwise unfurnished room. The only light came from a torch set into the far wall, flickering reflections dancing on the smooth walls.


    ¡°Please, take a seat. I¡¯ll go get the mayor and the Captains, so we can begin,¡± he said, pulling the door closed as he turned and left down the hall. Aran nodded, nervously taking a seat at the large metal table, feet of the wooden chair scraping uncomfortably in the quiet. He tapped his fingers along his legs, anxious energy needing an outlet.


    Several minutes passed. Aran twisted to look at the door, listening for any footsteps. He heard nothing, however. Either the room was very well sealed against sound, or nobody was out there. The sound of a fan kicking on alerted him to the vent near the top of the wall nearest the door, as warm air started blowing into the room. Huh, guess they have heating in here. Pretty impressive for a building built with magic.


    He sat there a bit longer, anxiety growing. What was taking so long? He stood, going to the door. He¡¯d just peek his head out, to see if anyone was coming. He grasped the doorknob, twisting. His hand slipped as the knob didn¡¯t turn. Paranoia spiked through his mind. He grabbed the knob again, gripping it tightly and turning. His hand slid, the stone not budging an inch. He grasped it with both hands, trying in vain to turn the knob or pull the door open, but it was like the door had fused with the doorway around it, becoming one solid piece of rock.


    He pounded a fist on the doorframe, frantic. ¡°Hey! Hey the door won¡¯t open! What¡¯s going on?!¡± A voice in his mind whispered that he knew exactly what was going on. They obviously didn¡¯t trust him, and were going to lock him up down here. He forced the thoughts away, pounding on the door harder. ¡°Hello? Is anyone there! Please let me out! Please!¡± His fist only made a dull slapping thud on the stone door. He wasn¡¯t even sure if anyone could hear him out there. His breath was coming in ragged gasps now, heart beating in his throat.


    ¡°Help! Please let me out! I¡¯m trapped in here! I can explain!¡± It was getting a bit hard to breath now, and he was getting dizzy from yelling. He leaned against the door, stone cool on his forehead as he tried to control his breathing. He managed to get it under control, but his head wouldn¡¯t stop spinning. He raised his fist, hitting the door weakly.


    ¡°Help¡­ Help, please. I didn¡¯t do anything¡­¡± He gasped, feeling nauseous as the spinning increased. He needed to sit, just for a minute. Then he could try calling for help again. He just needed to rest, to make the room stop spinning. He looked over at the chair, which looked miles away now. He turned a shoulder to the door, sliding down as his legs collapsed under him.


    The room was still spinning, as the edges of his vision began to darken. His thoughts came slower as he slumped to the floor. I think something¡¯s wrong¡­ I need to rest¡­ but I need¡­ to get out¡­ His eyes fluttered, as he desperately tried to remain conscious. There was something he needed to do. He was supposed to go¡­ somewhere. Or maybe not? It was too hard to think, he was just so tired. He would just close his eyes for a moment, then he¡¯d remember. Just for a minute.

 Ch. 19 All Tied Up

    The feeling of cool stone on his back was the first thing he noticed, as Aran struggled to wake. Something felt¡­ odd about it. But he couldn¡¯t quite figure out what it was, as he still felt half asleep. His thoughts felt slow, in the same way it feels when trying to run in a dream, but your limbs are heavy and slow, like swimming in some viscous liquid. With a concerted effort, he forced his eyes open to blinding light. After several slow blinks, his eyes acclimated to the brightness. Above him was a large light, pointed straight at him. It reminded him of a dentist¡¯s light, the one that always seems to be pointed directly into the patient¡¯s eyes.


    He shook himself mentally. His thoughts were drifting, and he was getting distracted. Why was there a dentist light pointed at him? Where was he? He tried to sit up, but his body felt distant, and weak. And it felt like he met some resistance. He tried to twist his head, to get a better look at his surroundings, but something was holding his head in place. He struggled, movements sluggish and weak, to no avail. He panned his eyes around the room, noting a high stone ceiling, which briefly pulled at his mind, as he tried to remember why that was significant. The thought flit away though, and he was left blankly looking around, unable to see anything else.


    He tried moving his limbs experimentally, only to find each one held in place by something he couldn¡¯t see. A dulled thrill of fear passed through his mind, as he slowly grasped he was bound to some sort of table. The dentist lamp above him only sharpened the fear, as some primal part of his brain grasped the danger he was in. A sharp click sound followed by the scraping of stone alerted him to two things. One, that he was no longer alone. Two, as an air current wafted across him, he realized he was naked, while bound to this table. The fear he¡¯d been feeling kicked off his instincts, adrenaline cutting through some of the fog as he struggled to move.


    He heard footsteps on the floor, and he struggled harder, twisting, trying to wrythe out of his unseen restraints. He reached for his mana, to strengthen his limbs like before, but it was gone. He panicked, grunting as his limbs moved by only millimeters. He dove deep, trying to reach for the sea of mana that was always there, waiting for him, but it was like it had vanished.


    A soft chuckle made him freeze.


    ¡°Having trouble?¡± The sharp, predatory grin of Crenshaw moved into view above him, as the man leaned over him. ¡°Good. That is the point, after all.¡±


    Aran¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Wha-¡± he coughed, his throat felt dry and cracked. ¡°What is this? Why am I here?¡± His mind churned slowly, but he¡¯d already come to a conclusion, hoping against hope he was wrong.


    Crenshaw¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Oh, I think you already know the answer to that. You¡¯re here, because you infiltrated our town, ambushed our rangers, and killed them. Then you had more of your monstrous compatriots attack our home, then had the temerity to waltz right back in.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?! I didn¡¯t do any of that! You think I¡¯m working with all the monsters out there?! That¡¯s fucking crazy! I¡¯m human!¡±


    The man¡¯s smile vanished, replaced by a flat mask of impassivity. ¡°I¡¯m not here to listen to your tales. I¡¯m just going to figure out what you are, and how you look so human.¡± He leaned close, breath hot on Aran¡¯s face as his voice turned from clinical monotone to almost manic fervor. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you say, or how loud you scream. I¡¯m going to drain every drop of information out of you. Then I¡¯m going to harvest your parts, and depending on what I find, hook you up to pump, and continue harvesting you until you burn out. Then, I¡¯ll kill you. Nobody cares that you¡¯re down here. The whole town knows what you did. What you did to the rangers, and to Alice.¡± As he finished, his eyes took on an even more crazed look, as his arm whipped out of Aran¡¯s sight, then reappeared with a scalpel. He plunged the small blade into Aran¡¯s shoulder, forcing him to cry out.


    ¡°That was just a taste. From now on, I¡¯m going to carve you up slowly. We¡¯ll get to questions later.¡± He stood straight, face impassive once more. Aran¡¯s eyes watered with the pain, as Crenshaw left the scalpel impaled in his shoulder. The man turned away, as the noises of tools scraping on metal and latex stretching sent panic screaming through Aran¡¯s mind. He bucked, letting out a howl of fear and anguish.


    ¡°Please! Please listen to me! It wasn¡¯t me! I didn¡¯t do any of that! I promise!¡±


    Crenshaw returned, moving to Aran¡¯s left side, face now covered by a surgical mask, with another scalpel in hand, as he grasped Aran¡¯s arm. Aran screamed, trying to pull away. He felt the bindings constrict across his arm, holding it very firmly in place.


    Aran screamed again, begging for mercy, but the man simply ignored him, as if nothing in the world was the matter. He felt the cold steel of the scalpel draw a line of fire across his forearm, splitting his skin. He kept screaming, begging. Promising anything for the man to just listen to him. He told him about the elf, about how the elf killed the others, but the man just chuckled quietly, shaking his head, plunging the scalpel deeper. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Aran screamed himself hoarse, but the man never reacted another time, never looked up, only cutting and writing in a notebook as he did.


    ---------


    Ben stared hard at the grey flesh before him, as he took quick notes. The muscles were nearly identical to humans, though the coloration was strange, of course. Even the muscle fiber was grey, with dark green streaks of blood through it. That was the truly odd part, however. There was so little blood, and none had leaked as he cut into the creature. He cut a sample of the skin, a small square of flesh, removing it to inspect it more closely. He took it to his microscope, feeding just a bit of mana into the device to power the bulb as he did.


    The creature continued to scream, but Ben easily blocked the noise out. It wasn¡¯t even close to the loudest creature he¡¯d dissected, and he found its ravings didn¡¯t bother him nearly at all. Placing the skin sample on a metal tray, he used his scalpel to scrape a thin layer of skin off, depositing it onto a slide which he placed in the microscope. He stared through the lens of the microscope, frowning beneath his mask. He adjusted the focus, to be sure he was seeing correctly. The cells appeared to be completely empty, with no microcellular structures within. He tapped a finger on the table. Perhaps these were simply the outermost layer of skin and already decomposing? He returned to the skin sample, turning it over and scraping from the softer, inner layer.


    He placed the scraping under the scope and looked again. His eyes widened fractionally. These cells were identical, just an empty cellular membrane, though a few of these had some of the dark green blood remaining on them. As an experiment, he took his scalpel and placed it against the scraping, sending a pulse of his own mana into the flesh. The cells didn¡¯t react, but the blood shimmered, giving off a small trickle of light before dimming. Ben frowned, disappointed. No discernible change, then. He considered. Perhaps a larger sample was needed, then.


    He turned to the blades neatly arranged on the table beside him.


    --------


    Aran breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. He¡¯d continued screaming, all the while trying to dig deeper, to find his mana. He felt certain it was still there, but whatever was making him so tired and foggy was making it hard to reach. His captor had turned away, after having flayed his arm open, so Aran took the chance to focus on reaching for his core.


    He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain still coursing up his arm, slowing his breathing. He reached inward, mind seeking that feeling of his mana. Within his core, it felt empty and cavernous, but he persevered. If he could just reach his mana, he could escape. A doubt crept in, how was he going to escape? He quashed it, blocking out everything except the grasping hand in his mind, reaching for his power. He reached and reached, ignoring the burning pain that now resumed at his arm, eyes squeezed tight. He focused his will, cutting through the fog, and finally felt a twinge of warmth. He renewed his efforts, mind seeking in the same way, as the fog seemed to dissipate and the glow of his mana reached him once more. He grasped it, feeling it rouse within him, though strangely he couldn¡¯t push it out of his core.


    He frowned, pulling harder. There seemed to be a barrier, something keeping his mana contained within his core. He yanked with all his will, tearing through the barrier with a tiny tendril of power, that leaked power into him at a painfully slow pace. This was no good. He barely had any idea how to use his mana, and he only had the barest scrap to utilize for escape. His mana was slowly, ever so slowly widening the gap in the barrier, burning it away as he realized it was a sort of foreign mana blocking his connection to his core. But this mana felt¡­ dead, like old bones, not like when Narcin had tried to control him at all. No this was entirely different, like a corruption of mana. Aran focused his mana on burning away the invading barrier, but this would take hours. At the current pace, it would be days before it was gone. No, he needed to figure out a plan utilizing his tiny reserve of power. He slowly circulated the drop of mana through his body, carefully avoiding his left arm. He had to avoid the pain for now, or he¡¯d lose his concentration and his mana would be used up healing his injuries. As he slowly moved his mana over his body, he stopped. In his right hand, he could still feel the intricate imprint of Naya¡¯s power. He tentatively felt over it with his senses. The imprint was faded, but still there, though he hadn¡¯t studied it enough to know if it was still complete.


    His breathing accelerated. This could be his only chance. If he could get a message to Naya through the bond, she could help. He had no idea how it worked, or if it even would, but it was his only shot. He fed his mana slowly through the delicate design, feeling it flare with power, and focused on pushing a message into the bond. She¡¯d called it a bridge, and he hoped that it was still working. He felt his mana crystalize in the imprint, dissipating as he hoped some part of his message was sent. He heaved a breath, shuddering as his mana ran dry. He could still feel the crack in the barrier widening slowly, but he wouldn¡¯t have anything more than what he¡¯d managed for hours at least.


    His eyes fluttered open as he let his physical sense return, and more pain than he thought possible flushed through his arm. His eyes watered as he arched his neck, a whimper escaping his lips. He scrunched up his face. He had to hold out until Naya arrived. He just had to hope she¡¯d come. She would come, he told himself. She had to. Otherwise he was going to die here, beneath this demented man¡¯s tools. He tried to block out the pain, turning his eyes to Crenshaw¡¯s back, as he turned away. Lances of pain sheared up his arm, but whatever the man was doing he had stopped, at least for the moment.


    Aran¡¯s breaths came in ragged gasps, as he tried to breathe through his nose to help control them. He was vaguely aware that he was hyperventilating, but his momentary clarity of finding his mana had gone, and he couldn¡¯t think beyond the pain. When Crenshaw returned to the table, he had a small towel that he used to wipe his sweat covered brow. Aran took some small satisfaction in making the man sweat so much, though he was confused as to what was so difficult about this. The man sighed, catching his breath before looking into Aran¡¯s eyes, his own unreadable. Then he reached for something Aran couldn¡¯t see, and began again.


    This time, to accompany the pain, Aran heard it. The shkkkkkkkkkk, shkkkkkkkkkk sound of steel teeth on bone, as the man sawed through his arm. Aran screamed like never before. Not just in pain, but abject horror. He screamed until he thought his eyes would bleed from the force of his terror. The sound continued, scraping not just on bone, but his psyche. Aran¡¯s conscious mind began to shut down, unable to cope with the pain. He never stopped screaming, but it was like watching a movie from someone else¡¯s perspective. His consciousness retreated, until he was only dimly aware when the sawing stopped. He watched as if from down a long hallway as the diabolical surgeon lifted his left arm from the elbow down away from his body up to the light, twisting the grey limb as he examined it. Exposed bone sticking out of the bottom, grey viscera clinging to it in shreds. His separated flesh looked strangely fuzzy, as Aran stared at the grey muscle and dark bone, realizing with a sort of detached logic that his eyes were covered in tears.


    Aran continued to scream, until his body finally gave up and passed out, long after the surgeon had departed, taking his severed limb with him.

 Ch. 20 Infiltration

    Naya perched high in the swaying limbs of the pine tree, observing the humans. Her tail adjusted behind her in tiny movements, balancing her perfectly on the thin treelimb. They moved with slow, plodding steps around their little wall, staring into the forest, ineffectually. Within their town they scurried back and forth, like insects in their hive. They rotated their guards on the wall regularly, though that would pose little problem for Naya, and even less for Bu¡¯umo.


    She¡¯d been here for an hour already, watching. She could still feel the pull of the thread between them, always letting her know his direction. After they¡¯d parted ways, she and Bu¡¯umo had remained in the area, checking the boundary of their territory. The small wards she¡¯d laid when she first arrived appeared undisturbed, though one had been nearly destroyed by some sort of burrowing creature as it made a new nest. They had been nearly finished, and about to head back to camp when a bolt of searing pain had lanced up her arm, directly into her mind. The bridge she¡¯d formed with the human had burned, crystallizing the pathways in her palm as the mana pulsed into her.


    The mana was his, no doubt even as weak as it was. She felt the pain and fear as freshly as if they were her own, though the method of sending was clumsy and imprecise. Even Bu¡¯umo was on high alert after the sending, the pain echoing across her mind and into his. They had not immediately rushed to his aid, however. She considered her palm, seeing with her attuned senses the imperfect bridge that had formed. It had faded partially, before Aran¡¯s mana pulse had solidified it, and would need to be remade or removed, lest it cause any mana feedback between them. But the brand wasn¡¯t the only thing worrying her. The sheer agony that had washed across her in that brief instant was terrifying. She had seen what the human had gone through, felt the impossibly deep well of power within him. What could possibly cause him so much pain? Whatever had done this, could very well be a threat to her and Bu¡¯umo as well. They couldn¡¯t afford to sprint into the den of the humans, only to fall into a trap.


    So she sat, and watched. She could feel the pull of Aran¡¯s side of the bridge, pointing to a small building deeper in the town. Several humans stood at each exit to the structure, though very few of them entered or exited. Only one, in fact. He entered shortly after she had arrived. He appeared to be average sized for the species, though somewhat thin, like he had missed too many meals. The other humans at the entrances seemed to show him deference, so he had some level of authority in the city. That could make it more complicated. Getting in and out with Aran would be tricky, but if they encountered a leader, they could end up having to face the whole town in open battle, not Naya¡¯s strong suit. Though she didn¡¯t think the humans were particularly strong, there were enough of them to be a problem.


    Bu¡¯umo stalked the forest below, impatient. Naya¡¯s anxiety was leeching over to him, making his skin shudder and shift restlessly. Naya forced herself to remain still and silent, though she wanted to join him. She trained her eyes on the building, waiting for the thin human to leave. She had only a few hours of true night left, and needed to make the most of it.


    Her legs were cramping by the time he finally left. It was still dark, but the sun would be brightening the sky very soon. Her heart beat sped up, ready for action. She had to force herself to descend the tree slowly, to avoid shaking it and making noise. Several agonizing seconds later, she landed with a slight huff on the forest floor, tail twitching ever so slightly. Bu¡¯umo appeared next to her without a sound, massive black teeth bared in a ferocious glare. She looked at him, nodding. There would be no words from now on between them, as their minds joined, moving closer to a single consciousness.


    They sprinted for the wall.


    Naya planted a single furred foot on the wall before pushing up, cresting the top of the wall while twisting in the air, pushing herself the rest of the way past with a single hand, landing on the other side. Bu¡¯umo had no need, clearing the structure with a single bound of his powerful legs, landing no more than a soft breath of wind. They ran forward, sticking to the shadows of the buildings. Naya cocked her head as they moved. As they got closer to the structure housing Aran, her senses kept moving down. He¡¯s underground, she realized with a grimace. A den indeed.


    They came to a stop in a narrow alley across from the structure, taking cover in the shadows. She¡¯d planned for this. There were only two guards on this side of the structure, which would pose no threat. She limbered up a moment, feeling mana coil within her. Legs tensing under her, she burst forth, moving with a speed nearly too fast to track. Raising her arms, she channeled mana into her fingertips, striking both guards beneath the chin, releasing the mana held there. Both humans¡¯ eyes went blank as they collapsed, nervous systems short circuiting as their brains overloaded. She waited a moment, listening for any approaching footsteps. Hearing nothing even with her senses boosted, she went to work on the door. It was a simple thing, carved from trees with a crude iron lock above it. She inserted a single nail, focusing her mana into the point. With a slight jerking motion, she cut through the thin metal of the tumblers, and twisted her finger, popping the lock free as the door swung open on oiled hinges. She grinned, long canine teeth flashing in the dim light emanating from within. She entered silently, closing the door behind her with a soft click.


    A single candle lit the room, which appeared to be a small kitchen. She sniffed, tasting the faint copper scent of blood in the air, mixing with other, much more putrid scents. She let the smells guide her, following the scent like some great white bloodhound, until she arrived at a door. It was somewhat incongruous, made of stone and appearing much newer than the rest of the house, unmarked by time. She ran a hand over the cool surface, and groaned inwardly. The door had been forged by magic, which meant whatever was behind it likely was too. Her brows furrowed. She had not thought the humans capable of such workings yet.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    She sucked in a breath, as the dim light of the hallway wrapped around her, bending as it passed by her, rather than reflect. She moved quickly, she could only hold the mana in this pattern for a short time. Tensing her arm before the rounded knob, she jabbed forward sharply, magic infused fist crushing the knob and shattering the lock behind it. She pushed the door open, skirting around the edge into a dark stairwell. Keeping herself barely visible, she lightly moved down the stairs, testing each for traps, but moving quickly. Breaking the door lock hadn¡¯t been quiet, and she knew there was little time before the absent guards were discovered. Bu¡¯umo was still keeping watch above, and hadn¡¯t reported movement yet, but it was only a matter of time.


    Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she sent a tiny spark of mana into her eyes, bringing the stark walls into sharp relief in the near complete darkness. She stood at the end of a long hallway running perpendicular to the stairs, all of it made from the same smooth stone without a single tool mark. The hairs on her neck stood on end, poking up from her collar. She shook her head, tresses swishing on her shoulders. She focused her senses, ears twitching slightly as she took in a deep breath through her nose. She nearly wretched, but managed to contain the bile that rose in her throat. This place smelled of death and excrement, so strong she had to force herself to breath out of her mouth, eyes watering. She felt through the bridge, instantly feeling Aran¡¯s presence straight ahead. She crept down the hall, sticking to the sides to avoid any traps in the floor. She reached the end, facing a large door, though this one looked to be made of metal, with a handle of the same metal, and some sort of pin through the top to prevent opening. Pulling the pin out slowly so as not to make any sound, she gently pulled the door open.


    Her eyes dilated rapidly, elongated pupils narrowing to thin black lines at the sudden brightness. After a moment to adjust, the light of the torches lining the walls revealed two lines of cages running along both sides of the long room. Through the bars, she could make out several still forms, though each looked to be breathing shallowly. She inched forward into the room, leaving the door cracked. At the far end of the room was a long, strangely shaped stone table with a dark form upon it. She quickly crossed the room to stand next to it, before her eyes widened in horror. A gasp escaped her lips, echoing loudly off the stone walls.


    ¡°What¡­ what have they done to you?¡± She asked aloud, voice barely a whisper, yet still loud in the stillness.


    Aran groaned and shifted slightly, eyes closed. Naya jumped in spite of herself. The body in front of her had no business still being alive. He looked like he¡¯d been the main dish at a feast for giants. Her hand trembled slightly as she laid it on his chest, on one of the few patches of unmarked skin. A thick tube of faintly glowing liquid was hooked up to a needle embedded in his neck, and looked to be slowly drip feeding into him. With a growl she ripped it out of him, a small dribble of the purple stuff falling onto the table as she did. There was an almost immediate effect. Aran¡¯s body shuddered and she could feel power course through him, though weak. As she watched, the flesh around his wounds began to bubble and pulse, beginning the healing process. She looked over the menagerie of wounds and flayed open skin, unsure of how much would heal, if it ever did. But he was alive, and for the moment, that''s what mattered.


    He was in no shape for an escape, and Naya doubted she could wake him to try anyway. She¡¯d have to carry him, and in the tight confines of the building that could be trouble. They¡¯d just have to deal with that if it came to it. Looking at the stone restraints, she cursed. This was going to be loud, so it was going to have to be quick. She released the light she¡¯d been holding around her, and gathered her mana into her arms, power rushing along her bones. With a sharp strike, she broke the stone collaring his remaining arm, the sound like an explosion in the small space. She quickly went about destroying the remaining collars, then looked around the small space. He¡¯d come here with clothing, though it had been removed at some point. She wasn¡¯t worried about his modesty, but they would need to cover those wounds at least a bit, lest any other denizens of the forest fancy an easy meal. She moved to the large desk and metal shelving unit on the wall, shuffling through everything, no longer worried about silence. She found a set of thin white clothing in a basket, dark stains across most of the front. She looked at Aran¡¯s limp body, and thought better of trying to clothe him now. Tying the clothes into a sort of knot, she hooked them through a loop at her waist, and hefted the limp body over her shoulder, trying to ignore the feeling of his exposed flesh across her skin.


    Bu¡¯umo sent an urgent thought her way, the humans had discovered the guards were missing, and were searching around the building. Luckily they hadn¡¯t tried to enter yet, but one had run off, presumably to fetch more humans. Naya abandoned all pretense of stealth, kicking the door to the cage room open, sprinting down the hallway before dashing up the stairs and barreling through the stone door, adrenaline softening the blow from slamming into the stone door. Dashing through the structure, she leapt into the outer door, wood exploding outward as she crested the threshold. The 3 humans spread around the door made strangled cries of surprise as she sprinted away, tail flashing in the rising sunlight. In a moment she had crossed the open space to the alley, leaping atop Bu¡¯umo¡¯s waiting form. Concrete exploded as his powerful legs pushed off, massive body rocketing away at breakneck speed.


    Aran groaned over Naya¡¯s shoulder. She gripped him more tightly, carefully adjusting her balance just behind Bu¡¯umo¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Hold on, we¡¯re getting out of here. Just hold on.¡± Bu¡¯umo raced between the buildings, turning sharply as they sped out of the alley onto a large avenue. Claws scraping and scrabbling for grip, the Bu¡¯umo got them back on course, heading for the distant wall to the east. There were more shouts as more humans rounded the corner behind them, accompanied by a shrill whistling. Naya risked a look back, several humans were sprinting behind them, obviously using mana to increase their speed, but still falling far short of them. She grinned, making sure to give the humans a look at her sharp teeth as they bounded away.


    Bu¡¯umo lurched to a halt, and Naya nearly fell off while catching Aran. A massive wall of stone had erupted in the ground before them, cutting off their escape. Naya and Bu¡¯umo¡¯s voices mingled in a low growl. The mage who¡¯d done this was good, but not nearly creative enough. Bu¡¯umo simply sprang up, claws catching on the lip, moving up and over in an instant. The shouting was getting closer as they landed, though muffled from the other side of the wall. On their side however, was a single human, panting. It was the same human that had been in the building with Aran.


    He stood, somewhat shakily, from where he¡¯d been kneeling. A smile played on his lips, but Naya recognized the hate behind his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, likely some grandiose spiel about how they had no escape, but Naya didn¡¯t let him. In the instant it took him to open his mouth, Bu¡¯umo had crossed the dividing distance. Naya swung low, using Aran¡¯s weight as a counter balance as they passed, deadly nails extended. With a sharp tug as they swept by, she raked her nails through the human¡¯s throat, tearing it out. A gurgled cry was all she heard as they spirited away. Looking back, she watched him collapse, clutching his neck as blood poured down his front. A few humans tried to block their path at the wall, but Bu¡¯umo didn¡¯t spare them a second glance, leaping over them and the wall in a single bound, long whip-like tail striking one across the face as they passed.


    The sound of bells ringing furiously dimmed to the silence of the forest as they ran, snaking through the boughs of the trees. They ran for miles to the north east before slowing down and turning back towards their home. This time they kept a slower pace, moving carefully through the brush, leaving not a trace. The humans would later find the trail simply ended several miles from the town, like the massive creature and the estranged furred woman upon it had disappeared into thin air.

 Ch. 21

    Naya and Bu¡¯umo didn¡¯t stop to rest until they¡¯d crossed the border into their territory, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Naya laid Aran¡¯s comatose form on the ground next to Bu¡¯umo before dropping to the ground herself, panting. The humans had sent out search parties in all directions, not just following the trail they¡¯d left behind. They¡¯d been forced to take several detours to avoid the humans, and it had stretched their flight from a matter of hours into a full day of running. Naya let her breathing calm and her legs relax from gripping Bu¡¯umo¡¯s sides for so long, stretching out on the cold earth. There hadn¡¯t been snow in some time, and most of it had melted beyond that in the shade, the ground was dry and firm, the perfect spot to rest a moment.


    She sighed. True rest would have to wait. She rolled over, pulling the white ball of clothing from her waist. Slipping the loose pants over Aran¡¯s legs, she looked away as she drew them over his waist, some part of her wishing to preserve his modesty. As she was threading his right arm through the sleeve of the shirt however, she stopped. The movement had caused the skin of his torso to draw tight, and what she had previously thought an old scar had started to open up. Starting just below his ribcage, a long vertical incision ran down his torso, ending just below his navel, held together by thin metal wire every few inches.


    Naya frowned. If this wound was fresh, it would need cleaned and restitched. She glanced at Bu¡¯umo¡¯s slumbering form. Making the decision, she pulled a small needle of bone from her pocket, and some thin string. She always kept some on hand for just such an occasion. Grimacing at the somewhat gruesome first step, she channeled mana into her nail, a thin, glowing edge appearing around it. She carefully sliced through the metal securing the wound, starting from the navel and rising to his ribs. That done, she pulled the wire out of each suture, the skin losing some of its tension as she did so. Removing the last wire, she gently pulled the skin apart to look at the healing, and gasped, jerking back.


    She stared at the long cut in Aran¡¯s abdomen, before looking back at his face. He appeared to be dreaming fitfully, eyes rolling beneath their lids. His chest rose and fell steadily. How was he still alive? She¡¯d felt the vast well of power within him, but she¡¯d never heard of anything surviving this, not even the most powerful creatures. Swallowing thickly, she reached out again and gently pulled the skin apart. Grey muscle tissue separated beneath, to nothing. His entire stomach cavity was simply¡­ empty. Muscles and tendons lined it, but there was nothing else. She could see the dark bone of his spine poking through the muscle at the bottom. She wasn¡¯t extremely familiar with human anatomy, but she¡¯d seen a few carcases abandoned by other creatures stalking the forest, and she knew they weren¡¯t empty. Pulling the flesh further apart, she leaned closer, peering in. Now that she was looking, she could see where an organ had been severed and cut out, along with an opening farther up that had been sewn closed. Naya shivered. The human who had done this was a monster. Experimenting on Aran, one of their own. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    She felt the warmth of a tear on her cheek, and leaned back, resting on her knees. Focus, she needed to focus. First, this wound needed new dressing. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure if Aran¡¯s could get an infection, but it couldn¡¯t hurt. She went about gathering some firewood and kindling, quickly breathing life into a small fire. Without a pot, she¡¯d be unable to boil water, but she could at least burn any potential infection off of the needle. She fed a bit of mana into the needle to keep it from burning, then placed it into the fire for several minutes. She kept a close eye on Aran the whole time, but he seemed stable enough. His wounds weren¡¯t healing appreciably, but neither were they getting any worse. Removing the needle from the fire, nearly singing the hair on the back of her palm, she readied the thread. Starting once again at the bottom of the cut, she knotted the suture and worked her way up. His skin was surprisingly tough, requiring more effort than she expected to puncture, but she finished up within a few minutes. She glanced at the numerous other cuts along his body, and the gaping wound where his arm had been severed. Most of the others were superficial, but the arm¡­


    She sighed. There was little she could do for that. Once they returned to camp she would pack it and close the wound, but there was little to do but wait for the wound to heal. The shard of dark, charcoal colored bone sticking out might hinder the healing process, but he¡¯d have to decide what to do if it became a problem. She finished sliding the dirtied white shirt onto Aran before packing up the needle and thread, and clearing up the remains of the small fire.


    She sat there, letting them both rest for a while longer, before rousing Bu¡¯umo and continuing towards camp. This time she rode with Aran propped upright before her, arms around his waist to prevent any unnecessary movement opening up the fresh stitches. The sun was setting by the time they reached the camp, meager light dimmed further by the thick canopy of leaves.


    A single, massive tree dominated the area, the base of which was thicker than Bu¡¯umo was long, and well over 80 feet tall. Between the gnarled roots the ground dipped, and between the roots stretched an awning of woven branches and leaves, forming a warm, dry hollow, large enough for even Bu¡¯umo if the need arose, though he usually preferred to sleep outside. Naya carefully lifted Aran off of Bu¡¯umo and carried him inside, laying him on a bed of thick moss at the rear of the den. There she left him, taking a large clay pot outside to a nearby stream where she emptied the remains of a dinner before filling with the clear, cold water. Returning to the den, she built up a small fire getting the water to a rolling boil before removing it from the flames and allowing it to cool slightly. Dipping a small cloth into the water, she thoroughly cleaned all of the wounds on Aran¡¯s body, before binding each of them with clean strips of cloth. His arm she inspected thoroughly, the cut wasn¡¯t clean, but it was straight and the bone wasn¡¯t chipped, so she covered it with a thin cloth, tying it around the stump, and covered him with a thick hide blanket, letting him sleep.


    She soon succumbed to sleep as well, the night''s rescue and flight through the woods had really taken it out of her, and she curled up next to the warmth of the dying fire, tail pulling in close, content with the small victory.

 Ch. 22

    Aran shivered, feeling a deep chill in his bones. He adjusted, pulling the blanket higher to his chin, sinking deeply into the comforting warmth. But stubbornly, his mind would not let him fall back into sleep. Something was wrong about this. He tried to fight it, but his conscious mind was shaking off the sleep and memories flashed through his mind - the kennels, Crenshaw, the pain.


    His eyes snapped open. Overlapping wood arched overhead, intertwining into a vaulted roof that thin beams of amber light peaked through. He snapped up, mind racing as the blanket fell to his waist. A shiver ran through him once more, and he moved to wrap his arms around his chest. He gasped as his right hand brushed against bone, sending a searing bolt of agony up his left arm. He looked down slowly, as memories and a fresh sense of horror washed through him. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him as he looked down at the grey stump where his forearm should be, sheer cloth pulled taught across the shards of bone. His hand shook as he reached for it, untying the thin strip securing it as the cloth fell to the bed.


    Tears formed dark spots on the blanket beneath as he shook, staring at the remains of his arm. A sob escaped his lips as he remembered the pain, the mental agony of the saw grinding through bone. He clutched his arm against him, rocking quietly, ignoring the pain as he squeezed it against him. Thoughts bombarded him as he struggled to cope with his new reality.


    His arm was gone.


    He let fresh tears flow for a few more minutes as he let the grief and horror wash over him, leaving him feeling wrung out and emotionless. He took a moment to look around his surroundings more, noting the dusty dirt floor, as well as the bed he was currently sitting in, which looked to be made of moss. He quickly put it together, but how had Naya managed to get him out of that hell hole? Just mentioning it in his thoughts was enough to send a flash of fear through his mind, and a darker undercurrent of anger. He had to shake it off, trying to maintain his fragile sense of calm. He swung his legs out from the blanket, noticing the strange white cotton clothes he was wearing. They were stained all down the front, curiously. Putting that aside for now, he stood warily, the low ceiling of branches just inches above his head. The walls were mostly dirt, but roots seemed to flow through the dirt, holding it in place, forming a sort of sphere for the room. The walls ended at two points. One was the trunk of an enormous tree, the roots that formed the rest of the room growing out from it, and the other was a door meticulously assembled from sticks and large flat leaves, on hinges of carved limbs.


    A small leather pull tab was woven into the branches, and Aran gave it a tug, opening into a sloped run up to another door, this one nearly perpendicular to the first, seamlessly integrating with the walls of roots to either side. Pushing this one open overhead, he emerged into the fading light of late evening. Shading his eyes against the sudden brightness, he squinted and peered around. Ahead was a small fire, surrounded by polished stones and accompanied by a few overturned logs. Perched on one was the vulpine Naya, staring at him with those wide expressive eyes. He found himself staring at her, silent, before coughing into his one remaining fist, averting his eyes.


    ¡°Um. Hey.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Aran,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    He considered the question a moment, still standing at the entrance to the den. ¡°Like a cadaver, like I was tortured. I don''t know,¡± he finally answered, face drawn.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She frowned. ¡°I meant internally. How do you feel? How is your mana flow?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, I haven''t checked.¡± He walked over, taking a seat across the fire from her, before closing his eyes, and looking inward. He frowned, suddenly remembering the crystalline mana blocking his own back in the¡­ Aran shivered, refocusing. The other mana was still there, filling his connections, but blocking them. It felt dead, inert. Like it was without purpose other than to just fill his pathways. It surrounded his core, like some latticework dyson sphere, though there were holes in it through which he could feel his own power, though it felt far away, just out of reach. He focused on the holes, finding the one he¡¯d made himself. His mana was pushing against the edges, burning against the foreing intruder, eating away at it ever so slowly. He reached past the hole, trying to pull more through the puncture, but the flow was but a trickly, the difference barely noticeable.


    He opened his eyes, brows still drawn together. ¡°There¡¯s something blocking me, like something else¡¯s mana. I¡¯m breaking it down, but it¡¯s slow.¡±


    Naya sighed. ¡°Yes. I examined you as you slept, and came to the same conclusion. It appears to be some pathway blocking agent. When I found you¡­¡± she paused. ¡°When I found you, there was a needle connected to you, and some fluid being forced into you. I don¡¯t know what it was, but I think it''s safe to say it is the most likely culprit. For now, I think you should focus on unblocking your channels. Your body is trying to heal itself, I can tell that, but it requires your mana. I¡¯ve never seen anything like you... Your body seems to run on mana, and I know you said you don¡¯t need to eat, but¡­¡± She paused, seeming to struggle to form the words she sought. She sighed, seeming to give up. ¡°Have you looked at your abdomen?¡±


    The question took Aran aback, and anxiety reared its ugly head once more as he looked down. ¡°No.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Can you- can you just tell me what¡¯s wrong? I¡¯m not feeling up to seeing any more.¡±


    He saw her shift in his peripheral vision, but kept his gaze down, looking at the expanse of stained cloth covering his stomach. She obliged him, saying ¡°I suppose this is a lot to take in. When I got you back, you had metal binding a long wound in your stomach closed. I removed the metal to properly sew it, and¡­ you no longer have many of your organs.¡± She paused to let this sink in, as Aran wobbled, feeling a bit faint. ¡°I am no expert on human physiology, but I believe the organs were the ones to process food. They were¡­ removed. I assume by the same one who took your arm.¡±


    Aran sat perfectly still, staring down. He felt violated, in a way he hadn¡¯t thought possible. That sick¡­ person had, had defiled him. He had no words to define it. He leapt to his feet, walking away from the fire quickly. ¡°I need to take a walk.¡± Naya made no move to stop him, staring after him, concern drawing her lips into a thin line.


    He walked quickly into the growing darkness of the trees, long strides quickly taking him into the deepest parts of the wood. His mind was spinning, trying to make sense of this. He felt sick, limbs jittery and cold. His breath came in short gasps, as panic threatened to overtake him completely.


    His eyes were unfocused, darting around at every tiny detail, trying to distract him from the ugly truth. The low root took him unaware, and he fell sprawled in the dirt. He choked out a sob, as he kneeled cradling his arm and holding a hand to his stomach. Tears freely flowed, his vision blurry as he cried. This was too much. It was all too much. He reached a shaking hand for the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly, as if it held a great weight. The long, straight cut was still closed tight, but through his watery eyes it was massive. He threw his head back, letting out a long anguished cry.


    He sat there for a few minutes, quietly letting the tears flow. ¡°I¡¯m a monster.¡± The words hung in the air, charged and heavy. He looked at his arm, brows furrowing as anger tightened around his grief, strangling it. ¡°I¡¯m a crippled monster.¡± He stared at his arm, thoughts turning in his mind, grinding his sadness to dust under the weight of his fury.


    ¡°I AM a monster.¡± This time, his voice rang with conviction, echoing among the trees. ¡°That fucking Crenshaw, and that whole fucking town are so convinced I¡¯m the bad guy. I¡¯m going to prove them right. Then I¡¯m going to hunt down that fucking elf, and burn that fucker to the ground.¡±


    ¡°Every monster I find from now on, is going to be scared of me.¡±

 Ch. 23

    Aran sat back on his feet, kneeling beneath the bows of the huge tree Naya¡¯s called home. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed in concentration. He¡¯d been there all day, and the sun was high in the sky, though hidden by thick cloud cover. He was still wearing the stained white scrubs, as he¡¯d soon discovered after examining them more closely. He simply ignored the implications of the dark stains down the front.


    His mind was singularly focused on restoring his mana channels, and so he¡¯d focused solely on circulating what little mana he could access throughout his body, slowly eating away at the lattice of hardened mana. It was long, tiring work, straining his concentration and patience. The lattice was inexplicably difficult to break down, and he had very little mana to actually break through it with, as his core was still difficult to access. So progress was agonizingly slow, and he felt frustration tugging at the edges of his mind, making it hard to concentrate.


    After a few more minutes with almost imperceptible progress, he gave a growl of frustration, eyes snapping open, blinking rapidly in the bright sunlight. He sighed heavily, pushing himself to his feet, stretching as he did. Naya was nowhere in sight, the firepit full of cold coals from her morning meal. He finished stretching, feeling a bit more energized after so long sitting still, fixing the damage. The reminder of what happened to him threatened to overtake him with anger, but he forced it down. Stewing in his own rage would do nothing. He would make the whole town pay, but he needed to recover first. So he focused on feeling better, and he¡¯d read somewhere a positive outlook helped that. That might just be self-help bullshit, but it was worth a shot.


    So he took a stroll, choosing a direction at random and plunging into the forest. The bright light filtered down through the branches of the evergreens covered in frost, creating a hazy atmosphere of almost complete silence on the ground floor. It was peaceful, and helped him push away all the thoughts of revenge and hate that permeated his mind as he walked. That would all come. But he needed to take some time to heal, he kept telling himself. That was his mantra, today.


    Get better, make them pay.


    He knew it was an unhealthy way of thinking, but he didn¡¯t care. This was a goal, something to work towards. And it gave him a purpose, something to focus on rather than wallowing in a deadly mix of self-pity and hate. Being out here helped calm the whirlwind of emotions within. He looked around him, at the massive trees arching overhead, impartial, uncaring. There¡¯d only been two other beings who had shown any kind of care for him. That brought up feelings of guilt as he realized he¡¯d only been focused on himself since he¡¯d woken up. He hadn¡¯t even properly thanked Naya for saving him. She¡¯d risked her life, and Bu¡¯umo¡¯s as well, to save essentially a stranger. A stranger who wasn¡¯t even the same species. He now realized how selfish he was being, thinking back to their interaction this morning.


    Naya hadn¡¯t spoken more than a quiet greeting to him since he¡¯d trudged back to camp last night, shirt still wet from his tears. He hadn¡¯t heard her leave after he started breaking down the blockage in his channels, so he wasn¡¯t sure exactly where she was. Probably patrolling the territory, he figured. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure how she knew exactly where it ended, but like everything these days, he assumed magic was responsible. He¡¯d like to figure it out eventually, but he¡¯d need to get the use of his mana back before that.


    So he wasn¡¯t sure how to find her other than waiting at the camp, without getting hopelessly lost himself. He spun on his heel, walking back quickly. He needed to be there when she returned, to thank her.


    He broke through the foliage, emerging into the brisk afternoon air, though warmer than it should have been given the time of year. A quick look around let him know she still hadn¡¯t returned, so he walked to the firepit, taking a seat on an upturned log. He sat, hand tapping on his thigh anxiously. He looked around, suddenly unable to sit still, now that he had something to wait for. He looked down at the coals of the fire, an idea forming in his mind.


    He stood, looking around for a suitable spot. Finding wood for the fire probably took even Naya some time, so he¡¯d help out. He was still figuring out how to do everything one handed, but he could at least collect fallen branches and kindling. It was something, at least. So he moved around the edge of the clearing, picking up the few fallen twigs and larger branches, cradling them awkwardly with his stump as he went. He hadn¡¯t even found a full armload when he¡¯d cleared out the area around the camp, so he was forced to walk further into the forest to find more. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ------


    Naya lounged high in a large pine tree, the icy limbs swaying gently, as she gazed out, listening to Aran stumble through the woods. She¡¯d been watching him for a while now, interested in his newfound purpose. He¡¯d been quiet since she¡¯d rescued him, and hadn¡¯t spoken hardly at all. She¡¯d only felt anger and pain through their bridge, though their connection was muddied and incoherent at times. Even now, she could feel emotions washing across it, uncontrolled and fragmented through the bridge.


    She wrinkled her nose. She was not going to enjoy fixing that, and neither would he. Even Bu¡¯umo would likely feel some of the feedback through their connection. That¡¯s why they¡¯d spent all morning checking the perimeter, making sure they would be undisturbed. She watched the human collect his sticks a while longer, struggling and often failing to hold them in the crook of his mangled arm. Anger boiled off of him, radiating through their link like an icy frost, prickling as flowed over.


    She finally roused herself out of the tree, climbing down gracefully. She landed after an entirely superfluous flip, trying to psych herself up. She moved quickly between the trees, arriving back at the fire pit to sit down and settle herself in time to watch Aran emerge from the trees as he returned with his latest batch of wood. He started when he noticed her sitting there, standing in place hesitantly before approaching.


    The emotions flowing over their link were a torrent, scraping her across her mind in a flood, but she pushed through. As he approached, he opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand. ¡°Stop. Please sit. We have much to discuss.¡± His brow furrowed, but he sat.


    ¡°The bond that we formed, it was meant to be temporary, so that I could learn your language and little else.¡± She paused, and he nodded his understanding. ¡°However, when you were captured and reached out, it acted as¡­ a catalyst, of sorts. The energy required to reach out across space through the fading bond was enough to make it a permanent addition to each of us.¡±


    Naya paused, dreading this next part. ¡°However, the bond is incomplete. Too much time had passed, and it fractured during the sealing. This is causing some¡­ feedback.¡±


    Aran frowned. ¡°What do you mean, feedback? I haven¡¯t felt anything.¡±


    Naya leveled her gaze at him. ¡°That is because I do not let my emotions flow over the bridge.¡± She closed her eyes, letting just a touch of her frustration seep into the bridge.


    Aran jerked away as if slapped. ¡°Ugh, what¡­ what was that?¡± He asked, eyeing her warily.


    She smiled softly, ¡°Just a bit of frustration at this situation. That was just a small part of my consciousness that I allowed you to feel. However, you lack the same training in restraint. So every emotion you feel, I feel too. It is¡­ difficult.¡± She laughed at the sudden guilt and shame that flitted across his face and their bond. ¡°Do not worry, Aran. It can be fixed.¡±


    Her voice grew serious. ¡°But it will be difficult, and painful. The bridge is permanent, and without someone far more skilled than I, cannot be removed. However, we can fix it so that it does not share our emotions so¡­ directly. That will make it much easier to control what we share, and have a bit more privacy.¡±


    Aran nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯m fairly accustomed to pain, so I¡¯m ready. When do we start?¡±


    Naya smiled. ¡°Right now.¡± She moved to sit on the grass, motioning for him to sit down across from her. Crossing her legs, she waited for him to sit down. Seeing him sit several feet away, she rolled her eyes. ¡°Closer, Aran. This will require us to grasp hands.¡±


    Aran grimaced, cheeks darkening in embarrassment as he sidled closer, so that their knees were nearly touching. She grasped his hand, laying her other hand atop them both, before closing her eyes.


    Nothing happened for a moment, before she opened her eyes, staring straight into Aran¡¯s. ¡°Prepare yourself. This will require a great deal of power, and I am not sure what you may see or feel.¡± With that, she released her mana, pouring it into the pattern in her palm as she felt the warmth of Aran¡¯s mana on the other side. She forced more and more mana into it, until their mana met, forming a mass of jumbled, twisting forces. She instinctively guided their mana back into the pattern, but mixed this time. There was more resistance this time, as she had to force Aran¡¯s mana to bend with hers, which was nearly impossible at first, until she felt his will recede, allowing her to take the lead. She let out a breath, heavy with effort. She slowly guided their mana through the pattern, feeling the movement mirrored in Aran as she started to burn in the gaps, filling it with intricate looping pathways, beautiful even as they burned into their beings. She felt Aran tense slightly at the pain, but otherwise remained still. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but continued. It would only take a few more moments, but each section seemed to take a lifetime to complete, the pain stretching time out like a bad dream. The pattern had never meant to be permanent, so it needed to be reworked entirely, or too much power would shatter it, which would be dangerous and painful for both of them.


    So she pressed on, until finally, the bridge was complete. As her hold on the mana loosened, she felt Aran¡¯s slip back across the link as her own returned to her. She sighed, relieved and opened her eyes. Aran likewise opened his eyes, letting out a stiff breath. ¡°Lets not do that again,¡± he said, a small grin on his face. She laughed, laying back on the grass.


    ¡°Agreed. I think it''s time for a nice nap.¡± She rolled over to her feet, stretching. She walked towards the den, looking back at him over her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m going to rest for a bit, but Bu¡¯umo will be out her if you need¡­¡± She stopped walking, frozen in place.


    Aran stood, staring at her. ¡°Naya? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°No. NO!¡± She screamed, eyes wide in horror as she looked at Aran, before they rolled back in her head, and she collapsed.

 Ch. 24

    Aran stood shocked, hesitating for only a moment before rushing to Naya¡¯s side. He rolled her onto her side; you¡¯re supposed to do that for seizures, right? Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and while her eyes were closed, he could see they were moving rapidly. His eyes darted back and forth, totally at a loss at what to do. He felt her forehead, no signs of fever.


    What do I do? Theres nobody-


    The sound of foliage shredding beneath heavy steps jerked his head up and to the left, just in time to see the heaving bulk of Bu¡¯umo charging out of the trees, skidding to a stop before Naya¡¯s unmoving body. The beasts fangs were bared, but not directed at Aran. He leaned down over Naya, sniffing deeply. Aran started to speak, ¡°I- I don¡¯t know¡­¡± but was silenced with a huffed growl from the¡­ Aran realized he didn¡¯t actually know what Bu¡¯umo¡¯s species was called. He just thought of him as a sort of bear-chameleon. He shook his head. Focus! Bu¡¯umo¡¯s eyes had narrowed, as he pushed Naya onto her back and sniffed at her shirt.


    It was¡­ smoking?


    Bu¡¯umo started tugging at the leather shirt, reaching over a serrated claw, before Aran stepped in quickly. ¡°Wait, wait. Let me.¡± Leaning over Naya¡¯s prone form, he pulled the sleeve down, exposing more of her chest. The smell of burning hair wafted out from the opening, until scorched fur was exposed.


    A black handprint was forming on her chest.


    Fuck.


    That was all he could think for a moment. This was obviously her work. Bu¡¯umo just growled, more aggressively now, as he leaned down to lick at it, flinching back as soon as his long tongue grazed it. Shaking his massive head like he¡¯d been stung, for the first time Bu¡¯umo looked worried, instead of angry. They shared a look, Aran at a loss.


    The moment stretched out, the only sounds Bu¡¯umo¡¯s heavy breathing mixing potently with Aran¡¯s heartbeat reverberating in his ears.


    The solution was obvious, but daunting. And he didn¡¯t really understand how or even if it would work. Their connection was fresh in his mind, and the source of¡­ whatever this was. So he could fix it.


    He hoped. Maybe.


    Aran let out a long breath, looking over at Bu¡¯umo. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea, I don¡¯t know how long it will take, or if it will even work. Just¡­ keep watch, okay?¡± Intelligence gleamed in the beast''s large reptilian eyes as he snorted in apparent assent.


    Taking a breath to steel his resolve, Aran placed his hand on the print forming on Naya¡¯s chest, burnt fur crackling. He closed his eyes, and sought their bond. It was a connection, like any of the others within his body, but deeper, recessed almost to his core. The thread was gossamer, and felt brittle, like it had been burned. In his minds eye, he flowed along the connection, reaching farther and farther until his core was so distant he could barely see in the darkness. He reached what he could tell was the edge, the boundary between them.


    With a concentrated burst of will, he pushed.


    Suddenly it was like he was in free fall, slipping faster and faster upon the thread, with only it to guide him. Light blossomed before him, though it was dimmed somehow. Like the light of the sun through cloudy skies. The thread was even more brittle here, and he could feel it weakening. He pushed downward, falling into what he assumed was Naya¡¯s core. It was cold, and that dimmed light suffused everything. Strange shapes spun and shifted in a fog that suffused his surroundings.


    Shifting his vision downward, he felt the end of the connection nearing. With a sudden jerk, he impacted¡­ something. It was like the fog had condensed, forming a shell around the center. Inky black tendrils were spreading across it, originating at their connection. Aran grimaced. This was his fault, without a doubt. Guilt swelled, and his focus wavered before snapping back.


    He reached out, grasping the root of the connection, and the base of the tendrils, and pulled. It didn¡¯t budge, it might as well have been a mountain. Narrowing his focus, he reached back along the connection, drawing on his well of mana. Pain spiked behind his eyes, and the mana was just a trickle, but he continued to draw on it, until the thinnest tendril snaked across the connection, winding around the blackened infection. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    He stopped, waiting for something to happen. His mana, normally so potent and caustic, just sort of¡­ sat there. He glared, and willed his mana to eat into the foreign connection, pushing more and more into a growing series of winding green tendrils, until he could feel it begin to work.


    Sitting above Naya, a small smile turned up his lips.


    He pushed, and he could feel the infection begin to recede from Naya¡¯s core, and his progress slowed, as it pushed back against his will. He pulled more and more from his core, tearing down the foreign mana surrounding it, throwing more mana to brute force the infection out.


    And it actually worked for a moment. The black tendrils receded further and further, withering under his will. Then he felt another presence, and the infection seemed to stop, before exploding outward, and he felt his consciousness siphoning away, stretching his mind like he was being pulled through a sieve.


    ------


    He stood again in the darkened hall. Wind howled outside, echoing across the polished stone. Night sat upon her throne of black, glaring at him. No longer lounging, she sat straight, looking down her picturesque nose. But her gaze did not hold his attention. At the foot of the raised dais, bound in chains, kneeled Naya. Her head hung limply, and her normally pristine white fur was disheveled and matted.


    He took a single step toward her, before a wave of force blew him backward, tumbling across the hard floor.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± The words carried across the hall, though they were barely a whisper, dripping with venom. She didn¡¯t wait for him to reply. ¡°You dare to form a pact other than my own?¡±


    Aran grunted as he climbed to his feet, and found the distance between them had shrunk, he was now only a few feet from the base of the dais.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t exactly intentional,¡± he grumbled, adding ¡°Though I don¡¯t know why you give a damn. And I don¡¯t really care. Release her.¡± He finished with a growl, with gumption that surprised him. His eyes flicked back to Naya, who hadn¡¯t reacted to any of this. He wasn¡¯t sure if she was unconscious, or simply unable to react, but it steeled his resolve.


    Please be alright.


    Night¡¯s eyes widened before narrowing in fury, her porcelain skin pulling taught across too-sharp cheek bones. Her finger twitched, and Aran was sent flying sideways, slamming into the stone wall.


    ¡°Insolence.¡±


    He struggled to stand, a bit dazed from the blow.


    ¡°Will.¡±


    He slammed into the other wall, hard enough for the stone to crack, and it felt like a few ribs might have too.


    ¡°Not.¡±


    Each word was punctuated by another wave of force slamming him into the walls or ground.


    ¡°Be.¡±


    ¡°Tolerated.¡±


    Aran¡¯s vision swam, and the hall seemed to flicker. His everything hurt, especially his arm where the exposed bone had dragged across the stone. He felt at his side, expecting to find broken ribs,  but found himself whole. He¡¯d been an idiot. This wasn¡¯t real. He wasn¡¯t physically here. He wasn¡¯t sure if she was projecting this into his mind, or if she¡¯d pulled his mind here, but that meant this wasn¡¯t his real body.


    Looking down at his stump, he focused. He didn¡¯t have to be at a disadvantage here. Like a mirage above a hot desert road, his hand shimmered into existence. He flexed it, knowing it wasn¡¯t real, but it would do for now. He stood, glaring back at the wretched thing upon its throne. Her eyes narrowed back at him.


    Another wave of force slammed down on his shoulders, but he simply ignored it, as it passed straight through him.


    ¡°No.¡± He stepped forward, each footfall deliberate. ¡°I¡¯m not playing this game. Release her to me.¡±


    She sneered. ¡°You think to defy me? You forget, my touch in her originates in you.¡± Searing pain lanced through his chest, as the blackened handprint flared to life on his chest, the white cloth shirt rotting away around it as he gasped, falling to one knee. He focused, clenching his teeth through the pain. I can do this. It''s just another connection. So cut it.


    He immersed himself in the pain, even as he felt himself cry out. He sought the origin, the focal point from which it spread, and now that he knew to look, it was easy. It was beyond and behind his core, but three dimensions couldn¡¯t quite describe it. It was anchored in him with heavy black hooks of what he could feel was her will. He pulled at them, but it only increased the pain as it tore at his core. He released them, as a pulse ran down the connection and a fresh wave of pain coursed through him.


    The connection was thick, and he could feel barbs within it, likely left there to make what he was about to try impossible. But he was used to pain.


    Thick lashes of mana surged from his core, wrapping around the connection. The barbs sliced into his mana, attempting to sever it. His mana simply ate into the barbs, absorbing the power. He pulled from every connection, veridian light surging along its length as a crack formed.


    Night shot to her feet. ¡°No!¡±


    Aran panted, still with one knee on the ground. ¡°Yes.¡±


    With a surge of will, he tore the connection asunder. Green light surged around him as the connection snapped back with the sound of distant thunder. He stood, weary, but with a grim smile.


    ¡°I said, release her.¡± Reaching out a hand, he found the connection between Naya and himself, and without Night''s link through him, shattered her control. The chains cracked, falling to the ground, and Naya¡¯s form flickered before fading entirely.


    Aran turned his attention back to the monster standing above him. The light in the room dimmed, as she seemed to grow taller with each step she took down the dais steps. When she stood before him, he had to crane his neck back to see her at all, the shadows growing until she was a blot of deeper blackness amongst the gloom.


    ¡°You think you have accomplished something here. You think you have escaped me? I will destroy you for this.¡±


    Aran smiled up at her, though his form trembled from the overwhelming pressure. ¡°You can try.¡±


    ¡°Begone, little mortal. Enjoy your little victory, it will not last.¡±


    With that, the world shattered, and Aran reeled back into his body, rocking back with a sucking of breath.


    Looking down, amber eyes stared back at him.

 Update on this story

    Hello everyone. First off, I''m sorry if this got your hopes up for something new in this story. I wanted to post here to let you know what''s going on with me. When I put this story on hiatus, I needed a break. I''d been pushing myself to publish a chapter every week, without being able to keep up. So as time went on I wrote faster and sloppier, and felt like I''d written myself into a corner that I couldn''t fix. This was compounded by the fact I never planned out anything for this story. I intentionally started writing without any sort of outline, and just wrote based on a very vague idea I''d had in my head. I don''t think this was necessarily wrong, but it didn''t work for me as well as I''d hoped.


    Since then, I took a break from writing entirely. During that time, I was laid off from my job and spent a lot of time just trying to be present with my spouse and our pets. We adopted a new dog Twig. He''s terrible, we love him. I sat back and re-evaluated what I wanted to get out of writing. And I landed on wanting to write something that''s an adventure, that''s fun to write. Because at the end of the day, this is a fun hobby that I pursue just for enjoyment. I''d love to publish a book someday, but that is secondary to just having a good time. So I started planning something new. I took about a year to write an outline, then another year to start putting pen to paper on a draft. Since then, I''ve written quite a bit more than I ever did for AM, and started publishing that draft here (if you''re interested, its on my author page. I won''t link it directly here, as that feels wrong somehow). I''ve written 39 chapters total, and I''m approaching what I think will be the end of the first book in a small series. Its got a different vibe than this story for certain, though I believe my style is relatively consistent between the two. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I''ve recently had some new ideas for book two, so I will be doing some re-planning before pushing deep into book 2. Currently, I think the story will end up being a trilogy, though every time I write I am always surprised at how much longer things end up being than I originally planned, so that may change. I''m posting this update here, as I want to be honest with everyone who is waiting on this story. As of this moment, I don''t plan to come back to this until I''ve finished my other series. All of this is subject to change of course, as life is always throwing wrenches into our plans and maybe I''ll be struck by inspiration one of these days. Anyways, I hope you and yours had a good holiday and a happy new year, and I hope you''re all hanging in there in a world that sometimes can be harsher than any imagined apocalypse.