The fire crackled and roared in anewed vigor. Cogar sat beside me as I returned to the world of the living, staring with a lost expression on his face into the flames. I could see darkness behind the twigs and branches of our shelter. The eclipse still hadn’t run its course. It was uncomfortably hot, the fire was that intense. Absent-minded, the Wyldling gnawed on a bone I assumed to be crocodile, before gently placing it on a substantial pile by the door. He had undergone a few more subtle changes in the few hours I had been away. His hair had grown out, even more, covering his back and shoulders, even parts of his arms. His hand had elongated and grown as well. One could already guess the claw it would turn into in the foreseeable future.

"Please accept my apologies.“ I said. "I meant you and yours no harm. I was and am just trying to survive another day. I should not have fought you.“

He turned to me, his eyes lifeless voids in the dancing shadows of the fire. "I believe that.“ He stared back into the flame. "It doesn‘t change anything.“

I let him be, just waiting for him to open up again. "The clans of the west are in dire straights.“ He finally said. "The fires of the clans are being snuffed out, more and more as the hours pass in darkness. The further west, the closer to the mountains, the harder the clans are being hit. The hordes of the Wyld in the north are untouched, so far. It is my clan and a few others, trapped between the mountains and the heart of the Wyld without warriors, that suffer.“

What could I say to that? Nothing. I just kept silent.

"My clan is fleeing east, what is left of it. And so are others. They flee towards the heart of the Wyld. Because the creatures of the Wyld protect the campfires at night from the darkness-spawn. But to have the Wyld be strong enough to defeat the assault of the darkness, the clans have to enter dangerous territory. They will change, go mad, and face other creatures. There is no clever solution.“

He held out his hand, put it directly into the roaring chimney of the fire, and watched the flames dance over his skin, apparently not hurting him one bit.

"The ways of the clans are waning. The one person strong enough to fight back the darkness succumbed to darkness on his own and led the mighty away from our home. And is now stuck on the other side of the mountains. This eclipse is killing us.“

I had done that. I had released the creatures of the Abyss from their prison. I had not known, I had not wanted it, but I had done it. Shame burnt bright in my stomach. Is this what revenge feels like? Shame and more shame? Was this not exactly what I had hoped for, the moment I saw the creatures of the deeps spilling onto the countryside? Were you happy now, vengeful spirits of mine? I listened for the triumphant screams of the [Flock of Souls], but they could not be heard. And yet, at the same time as I felt shame for the death of innocent Wyldlings, I saw the [Eclipse of the Eternal Star] in the Sky and knew that my Emperor of the Sun was locked in mortal combat, fighting for the last imperials still free and alive.

It was no wonder the homeland of the Wyldlings was as desolate as it proved to be. The hordes that had overrun the Margraviates had been endless. Our scouts had not been able to count them before they closed in on us and every source of information got cut out for us.

We stared in the flames in thoughtful silence, pondering the failures we made and the guilt we felt. We shared a few looks and understood the other to feel something similar. That helped, somehow.

At some point during the endless darkness, I got up and went around the corner, still in the protective circle of light. I took the small replica of the Dimensional-Flexible-Chest I had taken from the creator of Zero and activated it. The chest expanded and thudded to the ground with a satisfying impact, now again as big as the universal measurement of four coffins stacked two by two. I carefully touched the lock with my index finger, which had the blue essence markings on it, and whispered: "He who laughs last, didn't get the joke.“ A small speck of light raced over the lines on my finger, before it impacted into the lock. Lightning danced over the metal, even over the wood, and stopped when a thin stream of smoke rose from it. With a click, the chest sprung open.

The Jester had held his word on this account, at least. The chest was packed to the brim. The top layer was clothing, which I threw on a pile to the side, seeing as every item had accommodations for four arms, to turn them into bandages, string, and rope. Under the clothing was a perfectly and neatly packed space. On the right were three smaller boxes, highly decorated. One was filled to the brim with coins, silver, and gold, with unsurprisingly unknown imprints. One was filled with gemstones. And the third was filled with professionally calligraphed parchments, as well as a whole stack of letters and notes. Some kind of important, and long useless, documents. But there were a lot of them. I threw them out. In a rougher box were ingots of a metal I could not identify, not iron or steel in any case. It was a light metal and very shiny. And there was a sizable amount of it, almost a third of the chest. Zero was very very interested in these ingots and did not stop touching and fuzzing over them.

The majority of the chest though was filled with neatly packed and secured tools. Heavy, big tools in wooden casings. Huge Tongs and Hammers, Saws, and Crowbars. Small tools and chisels for finest work were stored in leather bandoliers, bound together, and padded with wool. All of it looked to be of incredible quality. Now, I knew this to be very very valuable, especially the finer tools. Only masters could create the tools necessary for the work of masters. But I wanted space in my chest. Incidentally, the smallest were the most valuable, so I put the biggest and heaviest tools away. Good things to use in traps, later on, maybe and certainly useful to create them. I kept one of every important tool, though, just the survivalist in me preparing for every eventuality. But not one of the oversized ones, just the standard size I was familiar with.

The man who had packed this chest had been obsessed with his tools. So many of them, often times more of the same, which only had subtle differences between them. There was a box with knick-knacks and personal stuff, as well. A little toy, some small paintings, a little knife. Stuff like that. And finally, as I had taken everything else out, I saw the big clasps, that held another compartment in the chest closed. The bottom layer. I had to almost climb into the chest to reach it. The compartment was tightly stuffed with wool and padded well to protect the row of leather-bound tomes that were additionally protected by a metal casing and a ton of wax paper. Fourteen tomes, thick in pages and a big format, too. All in a language that was long dead. So much for my wildcard. The clothing and the heavy tools would come in handy, at least.

Two more days of darkness until Cogar finally lifted his restored hand, inspecting it in wonder.

"I knew it to be possible. But I did not expect to actually achieve it.“ He said.

I clapped his shoulder enthusiastically. "Finally. Well done!“

"That is the easy part done.“ He stood up and knelt by the opening, staring out into the darkness. "Now what?“ He said. "What do you know about this eclipse and your Emperor? Will it end soon?“

I shrugged. "Honestly, it is only legends for me as well. Famously, the Emperor has the highest level in the Empire. He is over 50 for sure, but how much higher no one knows. That he even used the Skill is proof of absolute desperation. The Skill is too strong to be used lightly. The consequences for his own people and land are unforeseeable. If I recall correctly, it should be a domain Skill. Pulling the enemies into his own territory to fight them on the Emperor's terms. I do not know if days of darkness is the price to pay to activate the Skill or if it is a sign that they are fighting the whole time and the eclipse will end once the fight is over.“

"We cannot predict it, then. That means we should get to work, darkness, or not.“

"I can see in the dark.“ I said. "Can you? The White Beast surely has the advantage there.“

"I cannot. But I have leveled up in [Prey] when I looked for the footprints of the White Beast near the river. The class gave me two Skills so far [Desperate Flight] and [Prey Instinct]. I can feel it coming.“

"Well, it is as good as it gets, I guess. Do you feel alright with your hand? Are you recovered completely?“

"I feel good. I could use a few more days of serious eating, but time is short. It will have to be enough.“ Now that he was speaking louder and more ... envigorated than the last days at the campfire, I could hear a little snarl or growl sneaking into his inflection, whenever his voice reached a certain volume.

‚Lily?‘ I thought in my head. ‚Can you hear me? Do you know why the Wyld seems to have no effect on me? At least not as much as on Cogar here?‘

[Because you did not eat that Nightmare creature. It should be a concentrated dose of the energies of the Wyld. But you will experience some influences, as you also ate the flesh of a creature of the Wyld. The crocodile. I expect you to undergo the same kind of changes once you go deeper into the Wyld. But, remember how you healed your broken body with Essence when you almost died to that worm? I do not doubt for a second that a good amount of Essence would be able to fix any involuntary changes. -L.]

That was a relief. But I was not so sure about the madness aspect of the Wyld, though.

We had not been idle, the last days sitting around the fire. We had collected branches and twigs, stakes, and logs, had hacked them until they were pointy and sharp and had hardened them in the fire. We had woven strings out of grasses and flexible bark and the old clothes. We had built a few stacks of my caltrops, bound rows of spears to crossbeams, to built traps and things to slow the beast down. One time we even heaved a boulder on a heightened platform to drop it, but that was so much work for such little chance of success, that we kept it at the one.

We had interpreted the sacred hunt thus: When the challenger was in the territory of the White Beast, he had to fight it alone. But if we could lure the White Beast to us, to my territory, it was my right to defend it. Weakening it for the final fight that had to happen in the territory of the beast. Which we only knew to be on the other side of the river and presumably not in the marshes, because that was where Thousand Teeth lurked.

Now we stayed together, roaming the immediate surroundings for a place we could prepare. There was one area that was kind of rocky with a lot of trees and groupings of trees. And best of all, it was not that far from the river and the marshes. We made this our fortress.

And part of a different plan was the culling of the Wyldmarsh Crocodile population, which fell to me because they had a hard skull and I had a hammer with a spike. Life is like that sometimes.

In the end, we dared to take 5 days of work. We could not wait any longer because the troubles of the clans in the west were too pressing for Cogar to ignore. He had to move now.

Cogar had gone to his spot. In the minutes before our departure, he had very calmly mixed a few berries and herbs, and a few smashed bugs until he had a thick intensely blue paint in his bowl. He circled the mixture over the fire, mumbling silently in his language. And finally, after he had dipped his fingers into the paint, he painted his face and arms in the broad patterns of his personal warpaint. The intense blue against his skin, hair, and horn was a stark contrast, especially with the light of the flames dancing wildly in the breeze, and he looked as wild and dangerous as the best of them. I had grown accustomed to him over the weeks, so I had kind of ... repressed the feral look and aura the warriors of the Wyld radiated with every breath. I was now reminded of that, and of the fear, I had felt laying my eyes upon these warriors for the first time, as they shouted defiantly at our walls.

He simply said: "Ready“ and sucked the fire into his regenerated hand, marching away into the darkness with purpose in his steps, and a light on his palm to guide his way.

And that was why I was here. Standing in the center of a generous pile of crocodile meat, highly visible next to a campfire to protect me from the Nightmares. We had prepared many piles like this, all around me, to lure the beast in. To bite on some caltrops first, sure, but in the end, he had to find me. I had a carefully planned and constructed path behind me. There was a hill with a sharp drop and a few trees behind. I would jump through the trees while the Beast would have to barrel through. The river had a few rocks in it and I would be able to hop across them and a carefully placed log, but the beast would be too heavy to find purchase. We had prepared the whole way to the rocky area that way, which we had spiked with as many traps as we could.

It was a long hour of nothing happening, staring into the darkness and listening to the wind, which had picked up and pulled on my cloak. We had waited for that strong wind to be in our favor. It would disrupt the sense of smell, and we were not nearly as dependent on that as the White Beast. I had nothing on me but Zero, the Ravenbeak, my armor, and my pair of daggers. One at my hip and one in my boot. This was no swordfight.

Every time the wind died down a bit, and my voice would carry, I yelled a challenge into the night. I did everything to be found. And yet the beast found the other piles first. I could tell, because it was really mad and angry when it set slow and thundering steps toward the light and me, and because he had his jaw open with a few small streams of steaming and fresh blood running down its cheeks. Caltrops. Spirits, that thing looked terrifying. Adrenalin shot through my veins in a rushing wave of ice water.

It roared and, almost a mirror to the roar of the Bear those long days ago, my muscles cramped in fear and I was stunned, my body shocked into lockdown. Immediately [Breaker of Chains] activated and I turned and sprinted away, as soon as I could control myself again. I heard the impact of a lunging beast the size of a barn behind me, way to close, and climbed the hills in three large steps, jumping on the third and flying through the branches, windmilling with my arms the entire time. Trees exploded behind me, some splinters even hitting me at the back of my head, as I sprinted over the short but open field to the river, using every bit of [Improved Speed] I could. I jumped, barely touching the rock, and jumped again. Something big flew past. The beast had not tried to follow me. It just had jumped over the whole stretch of the river, skidding to a stop somewhere in front of me. This was bad.

I balanced on top of the stone with one foot, it was too small for two and saw the beast lurking and waiting in the shadows on the side of the river I needed to get to, in order to get to the traps. I shook my head to clear it and to prepare myself for what had to come next. Desperation. I lightly bounced to the next stone, on to the tree, and accelerated fast. Faster. A little Faster. I jumped. Now the beast had me in a fixed trajectory. It waited, following my jump with hunger in his eyes, and then pounced roaring. [Murder of Crows]! I exploded in a cloud of angrily screeching crows, chaos erupting around me as shadows hacked and scratched after the eyes of the beast. At the same time, I activated [Airwalk], giving me purchase to kick off into a sharp turn in mid-air. I dove to the left, rolling over my shoulder as I hit the ground. The beast could not alter its trajectory and landed amidst the crows, barely missing my leg by chance. Behind me was still chaos and I sprinted on, while the beast was distracted. I had to end the Skill immediately to save on Mana, but it had done its job. The beast needed a few seconds to find its bearings before it was on my track again, but was gaining ground at an alarming rate.

I ran. I jumped. I slapped branches away, while the beast just waltzed over everything in his way. My heart hammered so hard in my breast, I feared to spit it out. There it was! Two boulders with ample space between them and a harmless tree to the side reaching over the cliff. Was the beast close enough? I turned. Oh damn. Oh damn, way too close, way too close! I threw myself off the boulder in desperation, claws raking through my calves, splitting flesh. I screamed and lost control, but Zero played his part in this little trap to perfection. He shot out, fettered to the tree, and pulled me to the right, I jerked hard into the chain links, because I had not gripped them, and slammed against the rock a moment later, smashing my face and breaking my nose. The beast had followed my jump, but without a chain to alter his path, he smashed into the field of sharpened logs we had anchored against solid stone on the other side of the chasm. Many of them got crushed and splintered ineffectively. But not all of them. I swung wildly held by Zero, trying to get the blood out of my eyes, so I only heard the sickening crunch and the wet squelching, as the impaled beast thrashed backwards, trying to get off the logs, screaming in rage and pain.

It fell backwards. Dropped the couple of feet to the ground. Where another row of stakes had been buried in the earth. The roar of anguish was deafening and death-defying. This was not over, not by a long shot. I had blood on my hands and tried to climb up, but the chain glided through my fingers. The next part of the trap would have been the boulder I had to drop on the beast with the help of a big branch used as a lever. But I couldn‘t get up there. Or could I? Was it worth the Mana?

To hell with it. [Airwalk]. I bent my knees and jumped from the air, grabbing the branches of the tree, pulling me up. I rolled on the solid stone, retching in exhaustion.

"Stick. Stick. Stick.“ I mumbled, looking dizzily for the thing. There. Under the boulder and heave. "Heave, you gods damned asshole!“ I screamed into the wind as I threw myself into the lever. Nothing. Screaming. Nothing.

Then the boulder moved. And it did not stop moving. It tumbled down into the darkness, and I heard the impact sounding through the woods, followed by a bone-shaking cry. I had my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. Almost spent. But not done yet. I had not much to give anymore, but I grabbed the big, oversized hammer of the golem maker, we had stored here as we had hammered the logs into the earth, and flung him down as well. It had been there for another eventuality, but why not. The White Beast yelped once more, as I stumbled on into the thicker parts of the woods, where we had hidden the spanned flexible branches with spikes, the tripwires, and the random roadblocks.

The Nightmares of the Wyld attacked us both with madness in their many many eyes.

I crawled out of the river by the skin of my teeth. I could not feel my leg in the freezing water and pulled me further solely with my hands, clawing myself through the moist sand and mud. I heard the huffing and wheezing of the beast somewhere behind me. I had wounded his nose with some of the traps I blindly set off on my desperate flight through the woods and it had trouble following my scent. It had been a long time since I had looked behind. That just did not matter anymore. The Nightmares had come from everywhere, took a bite or two from the beast, and me before they all fled the area as if compelled by the presence of a spiritual White Beast. I was in the original territory of the beast now and had no more fight left in me. The beast was too strong. It ignored mortal wounds as if they were nothing but a bee sting, had unbelievable stamina and strength, and the speed to match its ferocity. A lot of the traps had worked. A lot had not. I was hit two times with the claws of the beast, and only barely, but it had almost been enough. Both times I could escape with wild changes of direction in midair and distractions with the crows, but the beast could not be stopped. Not by me. But it was wounded. I had wounded it.

Suddenly, a hand pulled me up, dragged me up a rock, and put my back to a tree as if I was nothing more than a backpack. There was a big bonfire on the hill and a smaller one near the tree.

"You did well, Hannibal. You look like shit. I am taking it from here." Cogar stepped over me and threw something in the bonfire, that flared up in a column of fire, lighting up the area around us. The beast was there, dragging itself out of the river. It's muscled, massive ape-arms sinking deep into the mud. They were crisscrossed with a lot of slim, red wounds. His whole hide was drenched in red and brown. It had run a gauntlet as well.

The challengers stared at each other while the fire roared, Cogar idly leaning on the shaft of his axe, the White Beast catching his breath and dripping water and blood onto the shore.

"Where I walk, the fire follows." Cogar said and raised his free hand. And the bonfire shot through the air, again flaring up. He just...caught it. The bonfire went out and the hand of Cogar burned in white-hot fire. "Come on then!" He yelled. "Finish it!"

Both challengers met in a field of mud on the edges of the Wyldmarshes. Claws flashed. Beasts roared. An Axe rose and fell. It was too wild and dark, confusing even with the light of Cogar's burning hand flashing through the air, to see what was happening in detail. The White Beast was tired and wounded and a foe worthy of legends. And Cogar was a proud man, but a warrior he was not. But he was evasive. The two Skills of his [Prey] class, [Desperate Flight], and [Prey Instinct], let him dance with the predator, narrowly escaping the worst situations, his instincts leading him in subtle but effective ways. Ducking away from a claw, pivoting around a lunge, burrowing his axe into the thick hide before spraying fire over the rest. It was a fight on equal footing for a few minutes. But only one of them could endure a couple of wounds. One wrong step and Cogar would be done. And thus the dance ended. With a man slipping on blood-soaked mud.

The Jaws of the beast closed around his ankle, even as Cogar scrambled away with the speed of [Desperate Flight]. The beast shook his head violently, throwing the Wyldling around, breaking bones. Cogar flew wide, landing into the water of the marshes with a huge splash.

I had seen only flashes of the fight. I had caught my breath under the tree and as soon as I could move again, had been wading through the marshes into the deeper waters. Screaming and making as much noise as I could.

"Come on!" I bellowed. "I know you are here. I know it! Come! Come, and take me!"

The marshes were silent, but for the sounds of fighting behind me. I had culled the crocodiles for days. Killed dozens of them, one more stupid than the other. But now I was after a different prey. And there he was, the King of the Marshes, Thousand Teeth.

His head rose over the surface, slowly, the fire on the shores reflecting brightly in his slitted eyes.

"Yes!" I waved my hands wildly. "Here. This time you can get me, I swear!"

And he took the bait, diving again, faster this time. Only the subtle wave followed me back. But I only needed to make a few steps to see the White Beast standing over the broken form of Cogar in the mud, thundering his triumph into the night. He stood over Cogar yes. But it was not his territory. He had flung Cogar into the marshes. And the marshes tolerated one King only.

And the White Beast was still that, a beast. An apex predator that had just killed his prey. He would defend it. The challenging roar was answered by the rumbling of Thousand Teeth. And they clashed in mud and water, lesser beings ignored. Thousand Teeth rose out of the water to his full height, towering over his opponent. And the White Beast charged as Thousand Teeth opened his maw. They clashed in titanic ferocity, clawing and biting, scratching, throwing and rolling. One was the King of the Marshes, ancient and colossal. The other a spirit beast of legends. The water boiled under their relentless onslaught.

I threw myself into the mud, dragging Cogar out of the water, where he spit and retched mud, blood, and the nasty water in a coughing fit. His body was broken but his eyes were still awake.

"No, no, no. Not yet. You almost did it. You are so close!" I wiped the smudge of his face, trying to make him fight for just another minute of his life.

He tried to speak, but only coughed up more dirt, his eyes bulging for his lack of air. I wanted to drag him away from the mud, away from the fight, but I was too weak to move him out, the mud had caught him, and I was exhausted. His hands found my face, gripping me with determination. His deadly serious eyes searched for mine, trying to tell me something his body was too weak to make into words.

"What? What it is?" I sputtered. He sank back, his body failing him.

"No. Noo." I screamed, grappling him from behind, keeping his head above the surface. "Not like this!"

What could I do? I had no healing Skills, no items to help. I only healed myself once and that was with Essence. There was nothing I could do. Tears streamed down my face, tears of anger because my weakness had once more failed me.

No.

No.

'Lily. Flood him with Essence. As we have done with my body."

[I don't know what that would do! That doesn't...] I ignored the rest of the message and just shouted.

"Do it! Everything. The Essence from the reptiles I hunted, everything. Break every Shard I have. Give it all!"

And I felt the Essence running through my fingertips. Cogar spasmed under me as the foreign power entered. I drained it all. Every ounce of Essence, every Shard I had. Hundreds of EP. I felt the Shards breaking, one little sting for every broken Shard flushing out of me.

Cogar's eyelids fluttered. I had truly nothing left to give. The Essence pouring out would have been enough to heal me twice over. I felt the souls when I had nothing left. No Mana. No Essence. No Shard. But [a Flock of Souls]. I reached for them, pleaded. They knew of my desire and struggle. And a few of them answered. Found their cause. Found their meaning. Ceased to be, in peace. And gave a little more Essence to Cogar. Crows rose above us in a cloud of noise. Every now and then on broke out and shot to Cogar, disappearing.

And I broke the resistance in Cogar's mind. I felt it give under the pressure of the Essence of the crows. He leveled up. And I could see it because I was there with him.

[Level up! Fire Keeper of the Wyld Lvl 20!

New Skill gained: Beacon of the Clans.

New Gift gained: Wyldshaping: Battle Form.]

Cogar's eyes shot open, his spine already bending. "[Battle Form]." He gasped. His skin split open, his bones, already broken, snapped into new configurations. He screamed in pain, the noise slowly shifting into the growl of an animal. His face elongated into muscular jaws, his hands forming into claws.

I stepped back, looking around for the apex predators. That fight came to an end as well. The White Beast had climbed Thousand Teeth and pummeled its eye. The King of the Marsh had not reached his age by fighting fair. It sunk under the water, disappearing into the mud.

The White Beast huffed in satisfaction and turned around, slumbering back, badly hurt. Behind me rose the battle form of Cogar, a beast not man, not wolf. Scales on the back and the shoulders, protected by heavy horn-plates, shoddy fur everywhere else. Rugged Horn-blades jutted out of the elbows and knuckles, and the bull horns Cogar had in his normal form had elongated and sharpened to an impressive size.

He moved his jaws as if to say something, but it was unintelligible with his new anatomy. He must have activated a Skill, because all around the marshes, small fires bloomed to life. Hundreds of fires, every one the size of a campfire. They floated through the air, slowly moving in a giant circle around the bestial form of Cogar.

Both challengers met in the middle of the marshes. The fires shot through the air, arcing toward the fight. The night exploded in white light and fire, as the beasts clashed one final time.