Author’s corner: Sorry for the wait, if nothing unexpected happens I should have at least one chapter released every weekend. Maybe more if time allows it. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

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- ???? -

I’m drifting in an endless ocean of warmth, the currents guiding me to an unknown destination. I am aware of myself yet I’m strangely detached. I have no desires, no purpose… I feel like an empty shell, enveloped by the warmth, all I know is its embrace and comfort. This is so pleasant… so warm…

As I drift along with the currents I feel an occasional pull in a certain direction, the pull is minuscule, as if asking for my permission. I choose to continue with the flow and it obeys my desire. Along the currents way I feel other pulls, some stronger than the last, others weaker, nothing forceful though.

My essence is shaken when I feel a change, a slight chill; so insignificant that I start to wonder if what I felt was even real. But then I felt it again, in the distance… at the end of the current of warmth. The end... The cold grows stronger as I try to struggle against the currents, I try to focus on the other pulls I felt, the warm ones… yet I can’t grasp them, they are too far for me to even feel now.

I try to resist the current yet I fail, it is too strong, too dominant. I try to push away from the cold yet I can’t, the pull is absolute. I try to stop myself, pull back from the cold while simultaneously pushing the cold away, this worked before… but now it is not enough. I can’t resist… I panic as the end nears, as the cold envelops me, as the warmth abandons me…

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-Murus of the Many -

I walk the perimeter of the tribe’s territory with a fellow sentry. We don’t talk, we never talked. We just go the rounds, check for dangers, anything that moves and isn’t of the tribe is a danger. We walk, leaving a deep trail in the thick snow. The dawn duty sentries flatten the snow every morning, and the dusk duty flattens it every evening. It still rises to knee height between the clearings.

We walk past a checkpoint, the guard there reaches out to our sense with his own. Acknowledging him we pass onwards, to the next checkpoint. We usually pass between checkpoints twice before another team relieves us. A few hundred paces after the checkpoint I sense something, I send my sense out to my partner, not willing to speak out loud. He sends out his own sense in agreement and we slowly start moving.

The thing I sensed before is alive, hot-blooded, and big, it was an Ungul, a fierce creature with a giant frame and strong enough to topple trees if need be. The both of us would not be enough to deal with the beast is it became hostile. We sent out a wave of distress to the nearby sentries and guards in hopes of support, while in the meantime brandishing our weapons in silence.

The Unguls are territorial, I don’t remember anyone reporting of one nearing our borders… the best guess to make would be that it left its pack not long ago in search of a territory to mark as its own. We cannot allow that, we are warriors of the Many, no mere beast can take what’s our… this line of thought breeds a deep anger within me, my heart races in anticipation, my breath quickens in anticipation of combat.

I send my sense of anger and bloodlust to my partner as I clench my weapon tighter, he pars my bloodlust with his own and we take that moment to charge at the beast. Our battle cries are met with a ferocious roar, filled with power and pride. Pride, we too once had that; alas power is all that is left…

I raise my spear to lunge, as another spear; one identical to mine flies past my head and gets stuck in the great beast’s right shoulder. I lose track of my partners doing as my spearhead meets bone and the beast roars in defiance.

Breathe; I pull my spear out of the beast. Breathe; I lunge again. Breathe; I stab at its left leg. Breathe; the Ungul breaks the shaft of the spear. Breathe; I sidestep as its massive paw comes down to where I was a mere half a second ago. Breathe; I draw my right axe from my belt. Breathe; I throw it at the beast's paw as it covers its face from the arrows of my partner. Breathe; I draw my left axe as the beast stands back on its hind legs and roars a mighty roar. Breathe; I dash forward with all I’ve got…

The Ungul notices me and tries to smash me by slamming his paws, which he brings down from above his head with the full force of his body. A shimmer of fear is ignited in my being as a vision of my death is presented before me… I have lived my life in hopes of once being one of the heroes in the stories of old yet time has shown my dreams to be a boy’s ambition.

I am one of the Many, my duty is to protect our kind. Once we are back to how we once were we will take vengeance. Avenge our suffering, avenge our dead and stillborn. The Blight of the Goddess they say, bah… I have always seen the truth… The mother was the one to abandon us, and the father welcomed both us and our children.

How unfortunate were the ones of old to draw the attention of the vindictive one… How blind were they to their folly? It bears no weight now… it holds no meaning… All that we have left of the old ones now are just stories; stories of glory, stories of greatness, strength, wealth, ingenuity, marvel, and beauty.

What does it matter when our young don’t survive their Greetings with the world?! How many must we burn for the bitch to be satisfied?! How many will never even get the privilege to question?! To struggle?! To live?!

The shimmer of fear passes and a burning anger takes its place, time quickens once more and I return to my battle. The paws that bring my death are ever so close… Clenching my teeth I leap to the side of his injured arm that I previously hit with my other axe and strike the beasts weak knee. This causes the beast to howl in pain and lightly pull back his right paw, which almost ripped my chest open as it tore through armor and scales alike.

I roll 3 paces away from the beast, facing its back as it howls still. The pain does little to silence my anger as I leap on the beasts back, sticking my axe head in the stock muscle of the beast, past the fat and fur. I roar as I stick my left hand into the now open wound, feeling as I’ve taken a reasonable hold I swing my axe once more, this time towards the creature’s neck. The desperate flailing of the beast misguides my blow, and it lands in the side of its neck instead of the spine. The next moment I'm slapped to the side with the powerful paw of the beast. A split-second later a tree greets my body as I make contact with its tough bark.

Feeling mangled and broken; the whistles of death once again enter my mind. The father is smiling at me, he’s been waiting. He’s waiting for all my kind to join him… it’s only a matter of time. A few more generations and we would be no more. No… We are the MANY, we fight to live, fight like the old ones once did. One day we will regain what we’ve lost! You can’t take me yet… Do you hear me, father?! I must live to protect those who are yet to know life… I can’t go with you yet…

Wrestling to gain a clear moment of focus I spread my sense out to observe the battlefield… The beast is breathing heavily while slowly limping away, out of our territory. My partner is crawling to me, injured, not as bad as me though it seems. His sense prods me about my wellbeing; if I can walk or limp with his help. I send out my struggles to even breathe, I then compulsively cough out a mouthful of blood.

Spreading my arms on the snow while lying on my back relaxes me, the cold isn’t as menacing as it once was… now it seems, inviting… I retract my sense to my body alone and prod around checking if I can survive the day. This endeavor proves futile as I black out from blood loss a moment later.

I feel myself regaining consciousness as I awake, I survived… spreading my sense I observe the damage, broken bones and torn muscles, minimal internal bleeding. A few days of rest would get me back on my feet…

“Murus… glad you’re awake…” I spread my sense in the direction of the voice, its Cali’ce…

“I'm not so weak that i would die from some broken bones, little flower.” Relief is present in my voice, and while I feel that Cali’ce is somewhat anxious I decide to let her deal with it, no need to poke at things better left alone.

“Ura’uye took care of you while you were not with us, you held the Fathers hand for a time there, it seems as if he himself chose to leave you with us… but that is not what I'm here for…” There is it… that anxiety again…

“Little flower, what is it?” My voice comes out dry and coarse as I cough a few times, pain spreading quickly along my body, I can take it…

“Your One… She is about to greet the next, I thought you should be at the Greetings…” There is conflict in her words, she must have thought I was still out of it and just ran to check in case I was awake. Cute of the child to worry for an elder, but a the Greetings are not to be missed.

“Then I can’t lie in bed while my One is Greeting the next young, I must be there…” I grunt out the last words as I motion to sit on the bed.

Cali’ce rushes to help me up and I send a wave of gratitude to her. I lean on her shoulder and take a step, seemingly steady on my feet I slowly continue with Cali’ce. We walk along the long tunnel; everywhere is the same, hard cold ice. Our residence is deep in the mountainside, the ice caves serving as our Greeting grounds. The young need the cold to survive… yet most are extinguished by the very same cold.

I sense a hopeful anticipation, with specs of anxiety. I recognize the bearer of the feeling… this is my One, she and a few other females are bracing for the Greeting to begin… I quicken my pace, hoping to reach her before it begins. Spreading my sense in her direction I make contact, I send that I'm here, I'm here with her, whatever happens, we are together, she is my One.

I'm repaid in kind, with a feeling of affection and gratitude, the anxiety she felt before is now gone. My pace quickens once more as I feel a painful jolt from her side, I leave Cali’ce and sprint to the Greeting caves as fast as I can, I want to be there… My bones creak as I roll down on the hard ice of the cavern. I couldn’t stop, so I decided to fall, what do I need a body for if I can’t abuse it a little?

I walk to my One just as the newborns are coming out… one, two, three, four… five. I swallow my feeling of amazement as I steel my nerves for the next few moments.

The young came out in a soft, flexible, egg-like shell covering them, the small little gems are pulsating with the mother's energy, so healthy… if the shells don’t freeze in the first few moments it is a good sign.

They will be set by the wall, in the corner and placed a pace apart from each other. There they will hatch in two to five days… a silent moment passes and I feel emotions of grief from the surrounding ones, I spread my own feelings sorrow for their loss… focusing on my young I notice one was slowly freezing.

This is normal, not all survive the greeting, and much less survive the following year. My mind lingers on the slowly extinguishing life force. I start to imagine what kind of future this child could have had… my thoughts drift to a different plane, an imaginary plane of existence my own has father told me about.

A plane of happiness, a plane without sorrow or sadness, where the lost thrive and laugh, sing and dance, love and embrace… I dearly wish for this child to go to that plane. The waiting time is finished, and we, the blood of the lost, must say our farewells. It may be so that the young have not been with us for long, but they were part of us still, for these few moments they were part of the Many…

I place my arm on the still freezing soft shell of the child and ask forgiveness as I wait for the others to join me… when each and every one of the blood has an arm on a lost one we start to chant for their safe departure…

“Little footprints~ in the snow Making water~ drip and flow Leaves are falling~ touching ground The Moon is hiding~ letting the Sunshine, all around Little footprints~ in the sand Facing forward~ to the sea Little droplets~ spreading wide The sea howls~ with delight Safely guiding~ to the other side”

Finishing the chant I send a final farewell to my lost one… suddenly a feeling of deep radiant bliss overwhelms me and I gasp for a breath in surprise… Regaining my composure I steady my breathing and check the surroundings. Everybody seemingly felt either the feeling of surprise I sent out or the feeling of joy I got myself.

A feeling of shock draws my attention, it is from my One. She focused her sense on the lost one… I copy her doing and notice that the life-force of the child is stronger now, almost as much as in an unfrozen shell, this is unbelievable… the ice is still there, it just as if it doesn’t matter anymore…

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- ???? -

It’s so cold here… I don’t like the cold… I don’t WANT the cold. Why did the warmth abandon me?! What have I done to be rejected? Was it that I wanted to continue with the current? Did I do this? Did I choose this?! No… no- no- no- no. I feel it eating at me, feeding on the little warmth I have left inside me.

I start to fade away; I feel the cold enter my being… its apart of me now, just as the warmth once was. This scares me, a vision flashes before me… a man lying against a rock, the man looks content, but his eyes are tired and vague. A smile crosses the man’s face, not a smile of happiness, no… a smile of solitude. The cold takes the man’s last breath and the vision fades away.

I too am alone, there is nothing here, now the last of the once embracing warmth is replaced by a biting cold. It is vicious in its pursuit of my being. I feel its desire for me. It hungers for me to join in its endless suffering. I can’t fight it… I can’t win… I'm slowly becoming one with the cold… ah, it’s quite comfortable…

Maybe if I just let go I can even enjoy the colds company, maybe if I join it we will both be complete… maybe I am the cold already, and the warmth that lingers in my memories is what’s holding me back… makes me suffer… maybe if I just let go, I won’t be alone anymore…

A feeling comes over me! The feeling is neither warm nor cold, it just is. The feeling is sad; a feeling of guilt, a feeling of regret. And as the gloomy feeling washed over me I heard something, words were imbedded in the feeling…

“I am sorry little lost one; my will is not enough to keep you with us.” I was not alone anymore… someone spoke to me… I'm not alone! The heavy embrace of the cold held little meaning now, the lost comfort of the warmth held no sway either… I marveled at the thought of company, I felt my being shine in delight. I wanted to reach out to the feeling that spoke to me.

I focused all that I once was, and all that I now am to find the source of the feeling… it was outside the cold. I outstretch myself beyond the cold, I need to reach the feeling… I try to talk to the feeling beyond the cold, I try to yell, scream, shout, bellow… I can’t reach it… Was this another trick of the cold? Give me hope and rip it way right after? Then just let despair take over…?

“Goodbye my blood, may the Father be gracious in his reception.” There it was again! Another feeling spoke out, this one was different from the last. This feeling held a deep flavor of loss embedded in the words. I had to reach it this time, I can’t be certain there would be another chance, and even if there was, I can’t hold off the cold for long.

I have to make it work this time; I don’t try to speak, instead, I copy the way the feeling used words, weaving them into an emotion. I wanted the feeling to know what I felt. I wanted it to see my happiness, my joy. So I sent out a wave of my feeling, my essence, myself… with a simple phrase woven inside; “Thank you”.

Feeling fulfilled I once again witness the sight of the lone man lying against a rock, with a content look on his face. I understand now… we’re not alone. With that, my consciousness slips away.