Ryan struggled for breath. He tried to conserve his energy running down the road to the village, but the flares, long since snuffed, demanded urgency. He stopped running at the bridge over the river outside of the village and settled into a brisk walk to catch his breath. He smelled the sharp tang of ash on the breeze and could still hear the sounds of struggle.

He approached the gate, aware that he was unlikely to affect the outcome of whatever was going on, but willing to help. He crept through the gate, remaining vigilant, and weaved his way around some low buildings toward the village center where he heard the sounds of battle. As he approached the center of the village, he spotted the vague outlines of bodies lying in the dark.

He stopped and crouched to get a closer look. Ryan recoiled at the sight of the body. The corpse was lying face down in the hard-packed dirt, his back and neck covered in oversized bites, blood splattered on the nearby wall and dirt. He was running away when whatever got him caught up to him. Ryan looked around in the nearby shadows between buildings and spotted a few other bodies obscured by the dark. It didn’t look good for the villagers.

An enormous crash interrupted Ryan’s scouting. He heard shattering wood and a low, dissonant scream. He left the bodies and inched his way toward the village center, keeping close to the walls to avoid revealing his presence. As he got closer, he sensed what must be the auras of others nearby. Ryan squinted his eyes against smoke and heat. He was close enough to hear the crackling of the fire. He edged around the final low building and got an unobstructed view of the village center.

Ryan spotted the fire. The closed shops on the far side of the square were a small inferno, throwing off dancing shadows of those fighting. The source of the sounds of battle and crashing buildings was obvious. Jensum, the village elder, engaged two strange-looking people in a flurry of dust and smoke. They were pale skinned, so pale as to be ghost white, with braided long black hair and tight fitting leather clothing. They each carried a slim sword with the metal throwing off blue glints despite the bright orange and red fire behind them. Ryan stiffened at their appearance, apprehensive. They were not completely human. He hadn’t seen anybody of another race in his time in his new home, although he knew that some existed.

Ryan’s face went slack, awe smoothing out his features. A thick vortex of twisting vines twice his height, each as thick as his wrist, surrounded Jensum. He directed a vine to lash out like a giant whip, reaching for one of the strange people. Where the vine whip struck the ground, a sharp crack sounded and shock-waves rushed across the village square.

One attacker tried to rush Jensum, his form blurring unnaturally, trailing shadowy afterimages. Shadows dripped from his sword as he tried to reach Jensum through the thick vine vortex. He swung his sword and flung droplets of shadow toward him, but Jensum was wise to this move. Wasting no time, he raised a wall of interlaced vines from the ground to intercept the shadows. Jensum then raised his arm and grasped at the air. The ground under the shadow man erupted in a mire of entangling vines, and he rushed out to avoid being snared.

Strong auras emanated from the shadow men. Their auras were stronger than Jensum’s, but they couldn’t easily approach him because of his defensive abilities. Jensum’s body was flagging, but his face showed determination in the face of these powerful enemies.

Ryan looked to the other side of the square. A dozen enormous wolves covered in writhing, shadowy black fur surrounded the remaining villagers. The shadowy wolves prowled around the grouped up villagers, looking for an opening to attack.

Ryan spotted Mags. She held one side of the encircling wolves at bay all by herself, the surrounding ground torn to shreds from use of her abilities. Her skin and muscles had taken on the tones of the earth, dark browns and greens, and her chiseled muscles interlocking like thin slabs of granite. She was like an earth golem rooted to the ground in front of the wolves.

She rushed at the wolves, her movements deliberate and inexorable, her spear leading the way. She used her presence and her spear to clear the area and jumped back to leave some cleared space between her and the wolves. She looked over her shoulder to the other side of the circle where a group of villagers with various weapons were working together to hold off the rest of the wolves.

A wolf took advantage of her inattention, rushing in and latching onto Mags arm. She turned and whipped her arm at the ground, the wolf inevitably following. It slammed into the ground, but didn’t let go. Mags brought her spear to bear in a short grip and stabbed it into the wolf’s flank. The shadow wolf yelped in a strangely resonating voice and let go, its momentum carrying it up into the air. Mid-air, the wolf’s form shifted into a shadowy cloud and it hit the ground like a puff of smoke. The indistinct shadow cloud moved away from Mags and coalesced back into the shape of a limping wolf. She injured the wolf, but it wasn’t out of the fight.

On the other side of the square, Ryan heard another one of the strange low screams. This close, it sounded like two sets of vocal cords warred with each other, emitting a warbling, dissonant cry. He saw Jensum bash one of the shadow men into the raging fire with his weaponized vines, but the shadow man didn’t seem too inconvenienced. His form became indistinct as he flowed away to rejoin his companion. Jensum showed signs of fatigue and wouldn’t last much longer. He needed reinforcements, but Ryan wouldn’t be able to help him. He needed to free up Mags to go help.

Ryan shifted his weight and braced his legs to rush in for a surprise attack, but before he could move Mags spotted him crouched by the wall and her eyes flew wide. She shook her head frantically and mouthed something Ryan couldn’t make out. He hesitated, uncertain. He was sure that she didn’t want him to attack, but unsure what she wanted him to do. She mouthed something again, but he still couldn’t make it out.

Whatever it was, it was too late. The shadow wolf in front of Mags looked over its shoulder and spotted him. Without hesitation, Ryan got up and sprinted into the narrow paths between the surrounding buildings. He weaved his way through the closed shop buildings and tiny homes, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the wolves. He heard a low resonant howl chase him through the narrow alleyways and kept running, rushing through the south gate. Ryan stopped, his feet stuttering on the cement-like dirt, and planted himself next to the wall outside the gate. He had seen the wolf shift into the strange shadow form, and he doubted he could do any actual damage to it unless he took it by surprise.

Ryan heard paws pounding on the dirt in pursuit. He could feel its aura approaching, putting a bit of pressure on his own aura. It wasn’t especially strong, nowhere near as strong as the shadow men. It was only a tad stronger than Ryan’s own aura.

He readied his spear, waiting for the wolf to speed out through the gate. He saw a shred of the black writhing fur appear and didn’t hesitate. He thrust his spear out as hard as he could, throwing all of his weight and momentum into it. His spear struck the wolf square in the ribs and the recoil knocked him back a step. Ryan reset his feet and followed up with a powerful knee to the wolf’s head. He screamed in pain, his knee bouncing off as if he had struck a granite boulder.

The wolf shifted into its shadowy cloud form, releasing Ryan’s spear. The clump of shadows moved out and around, herding Ryan toward the wall to limit his escape routes. Ryan maneuvered alongside the moving shadows, not allowing the wolf to gain space, not allowing it to set up for an attack. The wolf had to condense itself some time and he would not allow it to regroup.

Sure enough, a handful of seconds later the wolf condensed into a wolf from its shadowy form. This close, it was shockingly large; its head reaching to Ryan’s torso. He didn’t allow himself to think about its size or to think about his fear.

Ryan started stabbing the wolf. Over and over again he stabbed with his spear, making sure to not over commit to an attack to avoid getting his spear snagged in the shadowy fur and dense body. The wolf tried to dodge back and away to gain space, but Ryan was relentless and the wolf’s bulk prevented it from moving quickly enough to avoid the blows. Ryan couldn’t afford to give the wolf any space.

The wolf charged into Ryan, using its body weight to bowl him over. He hit the ground, his hip plowing a small furrow into the dirt. He didn’t lose his grip on the spear and kept the tip between himself and the wolf. From his spot on the packed dirt, Ryan could see trails of blood dripping out of the undulating fur of the wolf. He let himself feel a small bit of satisfaction. He was doing damage. Not a ton, but enough. He just had to keep to his strategy.

Ryan surged to his feet and closed the distance to his attacker. The wolf tried to rush Ryan again, but he was ready for it and stepped to the side, using the point of his spear to shift the wolf’s momentum away. Ryan followed it up with a few quick thrusts, trying to accumulate as much damage as possible. The wolf showed signs of blood loss, its movements sluggish and eyes unfocused. Ryan didn’t give it a chance to use its huge teeth and bulky body to overpower him. He continued to pick at it with his spear.

The beast finally shifted back into its cloudy shadow form and headed to the gate, trying to escape. Ryan stuck to the wolf’s side, not giving it an inch of freedom. It reformed just inside, and seeing Ryan right on its tail, it lifted its head and let out a long, deep, discordant howl. The howl was so low that it vibrated Ryan’s eyes in his head. Ryan shook off a bout of nausea and thrust the spear into the wolf’s throat. It fell silent and collapsed to the ground, suffocating. It stopped struggling and laid still. The wolf’s fur stopped writhing and returned to a normal, if extremely black, appearance.

Ryan looked down at his leg to see that the wound he had received fromt he Onslaught Badgers had reopened. His whole leg ached, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He looked up at the sound of two howls answering the call of their dead brother. He would have more company soon. Examining his surroundings, he tried to find some cover, something to hide. His only option was to run into the forest, so that’s what he did. He regained his spear and sprinted toward the trees.

His strategy wouldn’t work against two shadow wolves. He felt like he was fortunate with the last wolf. He avoided its teeth and prevented it from overpowering him, but with a second wolf he would always be vulnerable to its attack from behind.

He stopped a short distance into the trees. The canopy blocked out the meager light from the stars and obscured the underbrush and tree trunks in shadow. His only hope of either escaping or fighting was to use the Key. He looked around for a convenient tree to climb out of reach of the wolves. After a quick search, he found one with enough low branches to climb and high enough to keep the wolves from getting at him. He made temporary work of the climb and tried to settle himself into a nook to prevent him from falling out if something went wrong. The lack of pressure on his injured leg sent relief flooding through him.

Ryan took out the Key and concentrated. He focused his attention and could feel his aura without issue. The problem was that he hadn’t figured out how to use it. You just do it. That’s what everyone said. Ryan felt desperation creeping into his mind and suppressed it. You just do it.

He looked into the mesmerizing orb; the colors shifted through deep shades of red and crimson in the forest’s darkness. It was hypnotic. Ryan lost awareness of the dark forest around him as he concentrated on the orb and his aura. He reached out with his aura and squeezed with all of his willpower.

The Key shattered. Its translucent shards evaporated into pure energy and pierced his aura like a rain of swords, shredding it until nothing but ragged edges remained. Ryan screamed in agony and slumped into his tree nook. A force from inside himself ripped his consciousness away and he tumbled inward, tumbled into a dark abyss of nothingness.

Ryan’s screams shredded his throat on their way out to fill the abyss in which he found himself. He tumbled in the nothingness, the agony not letting up, not giving him the release of unconsciousness. He tumbled in place for an eternity. There was no frame of reference, no landmarks, just endless void and agony.

Ryan felt a change. Something noticed him and was turning its attention to him. Ryan had been mistaken. The space in which he tumbled wasn’t an abyss, it was an unfathomable consciousness holding him in place within itself effortlessly, and it was aware of him.

The consciousness focused its attention onto him, the weight of its regard eliciting a new level of agony as it flayed what remained of his aura and molded his soul like clay. The being radiated aloofness and indifference. Ryan felt a spike of interest as it regarded its work, then amusement.

The consciousness invaded his mind and planted an idea. The idea reverberated through his mind, a giant ringing bell that threatened to shatter all awareness. It took a shape he could understand, or more accurately, it showed him the lack of shape, the negative space. Space. Openness. Void. The distance between the stars. The space that encompassed nothingness. It showed him his affinity. In its fully realized and powerful form, his affinity was the space between everything.

Inquiry. It asked him a question. Ryan struggled to understand what it wanted. He tried to fight through the raging storm of agony its presence produced. It pushed him harder, its intent crystallizing in his mind like sharp diamond biting at his consciousness.

Choose. You must choose.

Anything.

He couldn’t stop screaming to say it out loud, so he thought it with all his might.

Whatever you think is best, anything.

Ryan felt deep satisfaction radiating from the being. A cluster of stars and images grew from a pinpoint of light to an overwhelming presence instantaneously. It rushed into him, settling over his mind like a soothing bandage covered in aloe vera, acting as a balm to his tattered mind and soul.

The consciousness flung him away, away from the abyss, away from the pain. Ryan slammed into his body, screaming, flecks of blood sprayed from his open mouth to dot his empty hands where the Key once rested. His body burned like he was doused in oil and set on fire. The burning died down to a dull ache, and his aura settled around him, a waving ocean of measured emptiness.