The songs were powerful, but I wasn’t a fighter.

That quickly became obvious as the minutes passed.

I played and played, blowing everything I had into my bansuri. The winds whipped and screamed around me like a maelstrom of blades and fists, smashing all the enemies that came my way. But there was no refinement in the way I did things. No skill. I overwhelmed the blighted with pure force. I smashed them down as they flew up. I broke their bones as they pounced—steelwind shred their flesh and took them apart piece by piece as the chase raged on.

Every attack I sent had everything I could pour into it. And quickly, in a rare sense of fatigue, I felt my lungs begin to hurt. I felt my fingers ache. I felt my focus waver, stagger, and I felt the razor-sharp intensity of my songs dull.

From a constant tornado of destruction, I weakened into a small flurry of intermittent attacks. I let more enemies slip. Less of them died to my strikes.

So I could only thank the Ancestors that Ildrex and Aami were there to pick up the slack.

Even despite his blood loss, the riftwalker was a blur of flashing limbs and pistol fire. He shot enemies down and battered the rest. He kicked them. Punched them. Tore them to shreds. Every time he moved, I saw the leather gloves on his hands flash—an instant activation of magic, making his strikes explode against his foes like miniature bombs. Flesh scattered and blood sprayed around him.

He was a reaper of the blighted.

And Aami was a predator.

Out of the three of us, I had no doubt that she’d killed the most. She kept herself stuck to me—a constant armor, coating all of my limbs. Shifting and changing. Protecting me from flying needles of bone and tearing, needlepoint teeth. All the while, a storm of tentacles erupted from my back—flailing. Smashing. Cutting. Instead of suction cups, she lined them with claws that hooked onto flesh and cut the blighted into curling, shredded ribbons. She grew mouths lined with massive, wolf’s teeth and tore into the horde of enemies with a hunger unending. Each foe felled regenerated the damage she took and added to her mass.

All around us, the corrupted forest came alive. I didn’t know how many we killed. We were well into the hundreds; perhaps over a thousand. Each one was weak, but they were many. And they kept increasing.

They kept getting stronger.

The Crimson Tide began adapting to us, and it had all the biomass in the world to do so. Bone plates thickened. Flesh became resistant to impacts. Ranged attacks increased in number—acidic bile, bullets of jagged bone, tendrils made of innards, lined with mouths and claws and grasping tongues—

They came at us like an ocean of blood. It was like fighting a wave that never broke. One that only continued to crest higher and higher, dwarfing the world beneath its shadow.

Terrifying.

And it was far from over.

In the distance, I watched the gazerstalks unfurl. Their bulbs spun and slowly unraveled, peeling outwards one layer at a time. I caught glimpses of their centers: a gigantic eyeball, each one the size of a town plaza. Veiny and bloodshot, sporting these quivering irises that were of a pale, yellow shade.

“I’m not seeing that friend of yours, Traveler!” the riftwalker said, gritting his teeth as we dashed under a gazerstalk’s massive shadow. It began to turn, its half-focused eyes trailing after us in a drowsy stare. “And we don’t have much time until these things start raining hell on us!”

I tore the bansuri my from lips and swept it out like a wand, and the wind trailed after the tip like a massive, curved blade. It severed a horde of enemies in half. Gore rained into the forest, and I drew the bansuri close, focusing as hard as I could on maintaining the song that carried me through the sky.

“Any second now!” I said, clenching my fingers tight against the pain in my knuckles. “Once we’re with her, we can—”

A roar like the sound of a thousand branches snapping cut me off.

The treeline below us split.

A blur of flesh and bone and hooked teeth shot out towards us. I turned, barely, to see the mouth of a gigantic flesh-eel open its mouth. Ready to tear and taste and swallow. It had been following us—waiting. And it dwarfed all the enemies we’d killed so far.

Beside me, pistol fire flashed. Three booms hit the eel’s face. Flesh folded and burst and popped.

But it was not enough.

I channeled Galesong into my arm and aimed. A blast of wind slammed into Ildrex and sent him tumbling and I turned and saw a throat and rows of scimitar teeth. I raised my bansuri. Aami coiled like a spring.

And the eel’s mouth snapped shut over us both.

Darkness.

I felt pressure all around me, closing in. Teeth. Rows of them, trying to puncture into me. But Aami writhed—coiled. She tensed, hardening her mass. Covering me. Protecting me. I felt the shoggoth explode outwards like a porcupine and a screech shook the entire world. The vibrations made my arms tremble against my bansuri. I felt the eel flail its mouth and my stomach churned and spun like I’d been thrown into a barrel and rolled down a hill.

But Aami wasn’t enough to get us out. Not in an enclosed space like a serpent’s throat.

So I played. Slowly. Carefully. A rising crescendo—swelling. Strengthening.

The reedy sound of my bansuri echoed all around us as acid surged in. It tried to melt us down. It depleted Aami’s mass faster than she could siphon it from the flesh surrounding her. But still, I played.

The air inside the monster’s body gathered in one spot; right in front of us. The wind turned hard like steel and expanded further. It pushed at the flesh around us and the eel’s throat bloated up like a frog’s. I pushed it even harder. More. Farther. Flesh began to tear. Bone began to break. The muscles coiling over us contracted, crushing us, but the air was metal. Unbending.

I felt the sweat flooding down my face. My lungs were running out of breath. I felt blood trickling out from my nose. But I played. I continued.

And I finished the song.

The wind burst and the eel’s throat exploded outwards. Black blood smashed into the water below like a tidal wave and what remained hit the blighted trees and melted them into fleshy goop. Aami lashed out with her tentacles and she slingshotted us through the forest. My consciousness blurred—darkening at the edges of my vision. I realized I couldn’t breathe well. My overexerted lungs were struggling to support me.

But I would not lose consciousness here. I brought a shaking hand to my mouth and I tore into it with my shark’s teeth. Pain blossomed. White-hot, scorching. Blood rushed to my tongue.

My consciousness cleared.

Panting, I lowered my hand and let Aami propel us through the woods. I heard the sounds of battle fill the air outside—the roars of blighted beasts, rushing from the shadows in an ever-growing swarm. But while they were relentless, Aami was everlasting. She ate them. Every single one. She killed and grew and killed some more.

If I hadn’t known her like I did, I would have felt afraid. I would have shivered at the sight of her fighting.

But now I only felt relieved.

I heard a thud below us as Aami landed, and her mass opened up around me. She spat me out onto the floor of Vivian’s basement and I rolled, panting, my dazed eyes staring up at the ceiling.

I heard voices and a hand reached for my jaw. They forced my mouth open and I felt the lip of a glass vial press itself against my mouth. Scorching fluid, freshly brewed, poured down my throat. I tensed at the sudden pain, choking. Coughing even as the liquid fire flowed down my esophagus.

And then it dissipated before it hit my stomach and filled me with warmth.

The burns in my throat healed. My wounds closed up. The ruptured cartilage in my lung mended itself back to top condition and I jerked up, gasping for breath. My hearing rushed back to me—same as my other senses.

My Weave was still active. Even when it wasn’t supposed to be anymore.

A pair of hands grabbed my shoulder and pulled me up to my knees. My vision cleared to the sight of the riftwalker, surrounded by Vivian, Aami, and Venti. The latter three had their attention turned to the outside, fighting the swarms that rushed towards us. Vivian, who was currently a tall, masked woman in a raven-father cloak, barked orders and the two acquiesced.

Ildrex shook me.

“No time to sleep, friend,” he said, each word becoming clearer than the last. The human gave me a grim smile, “Not unless you plan to sleep forever, eh?”

“No, I don’t plan to,” I said, shaking my head. I pried his hands off my shoulders and nodded my thanks. “Was it you who fed me that potion?”

“The cloaked woman gave it to me fresh from a cauldron. S’there a reason you all keep your faces hidden?”

“We’re just a little hard to look at, is all.”

“You can’t be that ugly.”

“I wish that were the case,” I said, before getting up to my feet. I staggered a little and coughed, covering my mouth. My hand came away wet with my black blood. I spat the rest at the ground and winced as I approached Vivian, “How close are we to the base of the mountains?”

She didn’t turn back. With a wave of her hand, a torrent of icy blades cut into the swarm. “Not close enough, boy. It’s already too late.”

Ildrex walked up behind me, “The gazerstalks are awake, aren’t they?”

Vivian nodded. “All of them.”

“How many?”

“Six. All of them staring at us.”

The riftwalker grimaced and I looked outside. The gazerstalks were hundreds of meters tall, climbing up towards the sky. And they turned, watching us. Trailing their gazes after the house even as it ran across the forest. Slowly, the swarm of monsters began to thin. One by one, they stopped coming close to us until there was only silence. Only the six massive eyes, staring at us from above.

Their irises began to glow.

'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕;̶͓͎̒̄̈́'̵̹͉̑͜;̷̧̗̫̉̈.̷̠͕̃͆̒,̶̗̗͛͜'̵̱̄̑̑'̷̪̊̾;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕;̶͓͎̒̄̈́'̵̹͉̑͜;̷̧̗̫̉̈.̷̠͕̃͆̒,̶̗̗͛͜'̵̱̄̑̑'̷̪̊̾;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́

.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕ ;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕ ;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒ ,̶͔́́.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅

Vivian spoke, and the world suddenly slowed. Everyone around us ground to a halt. The gazerstalks stopped gathering magic. Venti and Ildrex froze in time. Vivian turned to me and Aami, who remained unfrozen, “Time is short, boy. Answer quickly and answer well. Can I trust you to make it to Felzan by yourself?”

I nodded, “Nothing’s going to stop me from seeing father again.”

“Then you better mean it, boy. Because there’s only one way out of here for you.”

“What is it?”

“Gazerstalks see mortal and immortals both. But there is one place you can hide—in the shadows. In the darkness of the other side.”

Avnlasce. I frowned at the mention of it.

I saw Aami go still. Quiet.

“I was told not to go back without proper training or a way to hide.”

“Then it is a good thing that you now have both. At least, I hypothesize, to a limited degree.”

Vivian motioned to Aami, who stared outside, trembling. Afraid of something in the distance. Something only she could see. Vivian shook her head. “That thing comes from the darkness, deep and terrible. You make a mistake by associating with it, boy, but perhaps you can turn that into something worthwhile. Do you trust it to protect you from what’s on the other side?”

“I already told you,” I replied. “It’s her, not it. She isn’t an animal, but a person. One I happen to trust. I don’t want to tell you this a third time, Vivian.”

The Hag shook her head, “Bah. You’re willing to gamble your life on that simple friendship?”

“I wouldn’t have a life if she didn’t save me so many times. I’m willing to bet on her several times over. If she’s willing to help.”

Aami paused. Turned. She watched us, hesitating. But Vivian wasn’t looking at her. She was only looking at me.

“So be it,” the Hag said. “The darkness comes for you again, boy. Ever since you decided to save that riftwalker without a rule to your weave. Without a trade to balance the impact you have on the world. And now, it draws close. I feel it.”

“So that’s the plan, then? I go there with Aami and hide?”

She nodded, “You’re fragile, child. Out of us all, you’re the one who’s most likely to die. Your bird possesses a boon and I could care less about this riftwalker. But I cannot leave you to certain death. So we gamble—we bet that your little abomination—that she—can keep you safe. Even in the darkness.”

“She will. And I’ll make to Felzan even without you. The real question is, will you be able to survive? I’m the only one going into the other side.”

Vivian scoffed, “I’ve faced worse than some flowers. It’s only young, fragile hatchlings like you that an old woman has to worry about.”

I found myself smiling, despite it all. I turned my eyes outside to see the sky dark and lightless. Even through the few seconds of stopped time that Vivian gave me, it was unaffected. Black rain began to fall and I moved. I sat beside Aami and put an arm around her mass.

I felt an almost familiar inkiness spill over my back. The rain struck me; cold and numbing. Robbing me of my senses even more and leaving me even emptier than before.

The light around me shrunk until it was just me, Vivian, and Aami.

“Alright, then,” I said, nodding to her. I motioned to Venti and Ildrex, “But make sure you keep these two alive. Or Venti, at least.”

“Bah. That bird doesn’t need to fear death. And this riftwalker is…”

Sound from the world fell away. Vivian faded and it was only Aami and I that remained. I felt the shoggoth behind me wriggle with uncertainty. Fear. She began to tremble as we watched the darkness approach.

I tilted my head at her, “You don’t have to come, you know. I’ll be okay by myself.”

“But…”

“You don’t want to come back, right?”

“I don’t want to come back,” she whispered, nodding. “I don’t like the dark. I feel like it’ll smother me—take everything away. I feel like it’ll make me go back to nothing again.”

“I know,” I said, pulling my arm away from her. Now that it was just the two of us, I could be honest. I gave Aami a smile, “You can stay here with Vivian and the rest. I never planned to bring you in with me.”

“But what about you, Rowan? You’ll be there alone if I don’t go.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a friend on the other side.”

There was a long moment of silence between us. Scared and uncertain. The void closed in, and just as I was sure that Aami would choose to stay, she turned to me. The shoggoth blinked up at me with her eyes and I saw fear in them. But inside that fear, nestled inside it, was something else. Something that her fear couldn’t smother.

She shook her head and slithered over. Aami wrapped herself around me in a hug and I blinked, surprised.

“Friends don’t leave. You taught me that. Even if you have one there already, I won’t go. I won’t let you go into the dark alone.”

“Even if you think it’ll make you go back to how you were before?”

“Mm. Because I know you’ll help me come back to being me.”

“How are you certain that I’ll be able to do that?”

Aami squeezed me tighter, “Because I trust you.”

I felt a warm feeling fill my chest at that. Like there was a hearth, suddenly ignited between my lungs. It made the numbness of the other side run. It filled my limbs with strength and my core with energy. I smiled at the shoggoth and looked ahead, out into the black.

“You know,” I said, “I don’t think you have to be like the sun.”

She blinked at me, “Why?”

I gave her a grin—wry and crooked, “Because right now, you’re already brighter and warmer and kinder than it could possibly hope to be.”

Aami worbled out a happy laugh that echoed endlessly into infinity.

And even as the darkness swallowed us, I promised to myself one thing:

I wouldn’t allow her to forget that shoggoths could smile and laugh like she just did.