“He was stumped. What was he to do? He had the box. He could walk away. He could sneak a peek. And it would never know. He would stop at nothing. Spare no effort. Yet he did not know what he should do. He sat. He thought. He mulled. He contemplated. He did not find an answer.”

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‘Fucking piece of shit tree, why now?’ I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white at the thought and furiously glared at the ashfern tree standing in the clearing.

The Rasts were getting rowdy, shuffling and pushing each other to get closer to the tree. All of them looking up, waiting for the seeds to fall. My hope slowly drained out of me as their excitement rose.

‘Fucking Rasts. Why now?’

The researcher inside me was ecstatic at the opportunity to observe an evolution. If the previous observations were anything to go on, he was about to witness something truly fantastic. The shaman had seen plant-life evolve before, and according to him, it was nothing like seeing a Rasts evolve.

My arms lost all their tension, and I collapsed against the tree behind me. No matter how I looked at it, I wouldn’t get any of the seeds. All of them would drop, and all of them would get devoured. There were still more Rasts gathering as the evolution edged closer. The emanating energy escalated in intensity, coalescing into tiny dots at the top of the tree.

I saw several dozen latecomers arrive from all around, preparing for the bloody fight that was to come.

There were almost 200 Rasts when I finally saw green light shine from the tree, even without energy vision. Sharp beams erupted from the trunk in cracks where bark was thinner, as if the light within was trying to escape.

You could practically feel the tension in the air. All the Rasts were restlessly shuffling about. The moment they dropped; the bloodbath would begin.

I stood up and limped towards the ashfern tree. My sister won’t die like that. She has her entire future ahead of her. I could’ve been there. I can’t fail her. Not again. When she woke up, I could apologize to her, and take any blame she may throw at me.

I steadily approached the clearing, burying my bitterness and putting on a solemn face instead, hoping it might make it easier. It didn’t.

The tension almost turned tangible, like wading through mud. The energy from the gathered Rasts was like a pressure on your consciousness, threatening to make you pass out.

I turned as quiet as possible, attracting unwanted attention might kill me.

The tension finally reached its peak as the green light beams faded in strength and disappeared from the bottom first.

I sighed and gathered my energy for incoming fight, even preparing that. It didn’t matter how much I disliked it; Sandra came first. I’d die before I gave up.

Some Rasts turned to me as they noticed the no doubt massive gathering of energy. I mentally shrank even more under the increased pressure, but didn’t stop.

I pulled out my knife, hoping to get some use out of it before I had to activate that.

They flinched.

All the Rasts suddenly fell still. Not even a peep or grunt. They ignored me entirely, as if I wasn’t there. They even lost interest in the almost evolved tree and turned to face something to my left. Warily staring at whatever they were sensing.

The sudden disinterest in me left me stunned. I swung my head to see what they were staring at, but I couldn’t see anything.

No, wait, something small quietly waltzed out of the underbrush. I stared at it in complete and utter shock when I finally saw who it was.

Stoat.

‘Where has he been?’ Was the first thought that popped into my mind, followed by: ‘What is he doing to cause all of them to fall quiet like children?’

I didn’t know what to make of the development. He ran off into the woods when I left the village.

I didn’t move but stared at him suspiciously as he walked over to the tree, not dissipating the energy I’d gathered either.

Neither could I figure out what he was doing to make all the Rasts stand still and not dare to move. He was a Ba-Rasts, sure, but no Ba-Rasts that I’ve heard of can face almost 200 Rasts. A- a Ka-Rasts? A thought treacherously whispered to me.

I gulped before shaking my head to discard the theory.

No, impossible.

Few people have even seen Ka-Rasts, not even the shaman has seen one. No one has gotten close to the edge since the emperor.

That still didn’t answer why they were so afraid. The previous excited tension had all but disappeared, swallowed by a fearful atmosphere.

I looked on in astonishment as the Rasts looked ready to flee at a moment’s notice. They were trembling and twitching as he approached.

The Rasts gave him a wide berth, almost crawling over each other to give him space.

The light had completely dissipated, and the seeds were on the ground. I’d completely missed it in my disbelief.

I could see one seed be picked up, as Stoat carelessly walked out of the encirclement towards me. He dropped his acorn-like seed in front of me.

Stoat locked eyes with me and tilted his head in confusion when I didn’t pick it up.

“What the fuck did you just do?” I asked him. The Rasts still had eaten none of the seeds, but dumbly stared at us.

It didn’t answer put picked up the seed with its front paws and motioned for me to take it. I hesitantly grabbed the seed and confirmed that it was an ashfern seed. I pocketed it and promptly turned around to get the hell away from whatever was happening. Stoat following me, apparently having done what he came to do.

‘Only dire-blood left. I’ll have to get that while on the go. Time is almost running out.’ Some semblances of hope returned to me, now that I realised that I just got the ashfern seed that I needed. Just keep going. Never mind how I’d gotten it, or rather how Stoat had gotten it. Get out of sight of the bloodthirsty Rasts first.

I hastily got out of the clearing, and stepped into the woods again, getting some comfort from not being completely exposed. Still, the essence of the seed itself was like screaming my location where ever I went.

Stoat followed quietly by my side. I was unnerved. What the fuck was he? I’ve only ever once heard of a bonded fighting hundreds of Rasts in combat. But he was in his prime and fought with a shaman. Thomas is only 9 or 10 years old. What kind of monster is he? They didn’t even try to fight back. It made little sense.

I took shaky, deep breaths to calm myself down, almost unable to look at Stoat. That was when he jumped on a branch in front of us and face me. I stiffened and clenched my eyes shut before composing myself and shakily looking at him. He hadn’t changed from when I first saw him, a small 40-centimetre large stoat, with the green tribal tattoos of a Rasts, brown fur and a white belly. He looked harmless, but I knew he was anything but.

I’ve seen him tear Rasts to shreds, his claws easily ripping whatever they came into contact with. His actions are unpredictable and unusual. He shouldn’t ever want to leave Thomas’ side, especially in his current situation, yet here he is.

“What are you? You’re no normal bonded.” I asked, despite myself. I wanted answers, but curiosity killed the emperor. Would it kill me too?

“You’re way stronger than me. If you want to kill me, just do it now. Or better yet, you could’ve just left me to die with the Rasts. There wouldn’t have been any trace of me.” The only answer I got was a tilted head.

“Tell me! What are you!” I said, yet not moving any closer to him. Cold sweat covered my entire body, and my hands were clammy.

Stoat looked at me pitifully and shook his head before quickly disappearing into the underbrush. He left me all alone.

I stared at the branch where he’d just stood for a good long while before I finally compose myself.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts of Stoat now that I’d confirmed that he wasn’t there. He couldn’t be this powerful. Talent or no talent. He must’ve done something.

I need to hurry back to Sandra; the shaman will conduct the ritual and she’ll be okay. Can’t stop now.

Right, dire-blood, find a dire variant, quick and easy. My body had healed up almost completely, so I cautiously increased my pace, hoping to make it back before nightfall and hoping I’d find what I needed before I arrived.

Thankfully, a dire-elk aggressively attacked me when I stumbled into its territory, or it was attracted to the seed. I almost sighed in relief when I saw it.

I gracefully stepped to the side when it charged at me, happy to face a foe I could actually fight. On even ground I could best almost any Rasts. I had nothing to worry about. It lacked the spark of intelligence of other Rasts variants, so it didn’t adapt its charge when it inevitably missed.

Dire-Rasts were always the easiest to fight. Perhaps they looked more intimidating than other variants, but they were actually one of the most harmless. The dire-elk had four horns and six eyes and was quite a lot larger than average, but wasn’t otherwise any more dangerous than a large normal elk.

The fight simply comprised me gently sidestepping whenever it charged towards me, as it ran past at dizzying speeds into the surrounding trees, violently tearing them up from their roots.

I only had my knife with me, and I wouldn’t want to slice into its side. Its essence might dissipate if it bled to death, so I needed to kill it with a single, decisive blow.

Once again, sidestepping its violent charge, I watched it determinedly extract itself from the tree it had buried itself into and ready for another charge. Perhaps it would exhaust itself if I kept sidestepping, but I didn’t have the time nor the sadistic streak to let it. I grabbed one of its four horns and let myself be yanked with it and quickly saddling it.

It either didn’t have time to react or it didn’t notice me, but I hung on with all my might to prevent myself from getting flung off when it inevitably smashed into a large tree.

The small moment it took to recompose itself was my queue to attack. I grabbed my knife with both hands in a reverse grip and thrust the knife downward with all my might.

It smashed powerfully into its skull and with a loud *CRACK* went through the bone and into its brain.

The sudden attack to its centre made it flinch and spasm, abruptly flinging me off its neck and into a tree, before collapsing onto the ground with a thud.

I fell to the ground in a similarly inelegant manner, scraping my skin and clothes from the small branches I broke on my way down.

Quickly getting back up and ignoring the pain as best as I could, I scampered over to the dead Rasts and pulled out a leather flask. The heart was still beating vigorously, and it bled with a passion when I made a small incision.

I probably took way more than I needed, but I didn’t have the luxury of being incautious.

I allowed myself a small moment of rest, gulping deep breaths of air.

“Alright Sandra, almost there sis. Just hang on a little while longer.” I stood up with a groan. Getting injured sucks. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently.

Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten injured any further in the fight and was almost at peak strength. I had almost nothing to worry about on the way home if everything went according to plan.

… I just jinxed myself, didn’t I? Fuck.

Having just given myself anxiety, I hurried along, even getting some minor scrapes and scratches from forcing my way through some bushes.

My clothes were, of course, already torn to shreds. I was practically naked. But that was really par for the course. No one had discovered how to make clothes last longer or be more durable, so shamans just carried spare clothes around or made some on the spot with leaves. It was a hassle, but it beat walking around naked.

Oh well, what can you do when your skin is several times more durable than your clothes?

The answer is nothing. God, I wish someone found a way to make flexible runes, that would be so amazing. Being forced to change after every fight was a pain.

An unnatural rustle of leaves brought me out of my thoughts. I was immediately wary. I hadn’t been able to hide the essence of the seed completely so it might attract Rasts.

And knowing my luck…

I stepped backwards. The white figure that had tried to ambush me from above missed me entirely and fell futilely on the ground.

I didn’t relax my guard; the Rasts was unfamiliar. A monkey. It was a white monkey with a large yet dexterous tail. Sharp scales around 3 fingers thick intermingled out of its medium-sized body, especially on its tail, which was twice as long as the monkey was tall.

When Rasts evolved from already intelligent animals, they could become frighteningly smart. Even more so when they evolved further into Ba- or Ka-Rasts. So despite its failed ambush, I was still wary of what it would do next and wondering why it had attacked me on its own.

The monkey was quite dazed from the hard landing. So I kicked it to scare it away and hopefully be on my way, but that only woke it out of its stupor. It deftly dodged my incoming foot and scurried away into the underbrush.

Seeing it flee, I quickly increased my pace to get out of the area, hoping I’d leave alone when it saw how outmatched it was.

No such luck, as I leaned back and saw another monkey fly over my shoulder.

I sighed. Clad-Variants were such a pain.

The single monkey suddenly turned into 3, as I punched one who’d ditched the high ground and tried to attack me from below.

I dodged and counterattacked when one of the first two jumped from the side, trying to scratch my face.

I punched it away, but was struck by its spiked tail, giving me a large gash on my cheek, nearly taking out my eye.

“You know, ever since I met Edward, I feel like my luck has drastically decreased.” I said. The kind and understanding response was another attack from behind. They probably wouldn’t stop until I was far out of their territory or dead.

They forced me to dodge and counterattack continuously during their persistent attacks.

Individually, clad-variants were quite weak, but they made up for it in intelligence and group tactics.

That said… Their strength was also their weakness.

They had an unusual trait, one of the only variants to care for another. most animals, even social ones, when they evolved into Rasts, became lone wolves.

As the monkey leaped over my shoulder, I tried to grab it. I only dodged narrowly because it had no way to hide its presence while in combat.

I successfully caught it, but the spikes on its body and tail sliced my hand, and it forced me to let go, lest it cut my hand off.

‘All at once, or none at all.’ That’s the golden rule for clad-variants. They were inherently different to most other rasts, they cared, and they were intelligent.

I pulled out my knife when I had a brief respite. I quickly rolled backwards to get out of their encirclement, which they’d kept tediously tight.

Seeing my chance, I lunged back into the encirclement after my brief overview, straight at one of the clad-monkeys. I grabbed it by the throat and pressed my knife against it. Pinning with my knee against the ground.

“Stop!” I yelled, and the other two clad-monkeys froze.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice his throat.” I said.

The clad-monkey that I was holding immediately fell limp and stopped resisting. I paused. That worked? Clad-variants were as elusive as they were rare. I’d gambled.

What do I do now? I definitely couldn’t give the seed away.

‘These days, life is just getting weirder and weirder.’ The thought slipped into my mind despite the urgent need for ideas.

Weird. Hmm…

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want. I’m going to let him go, and I’m going to walk away. Deal?” They didn’t react.

‘Here goes nothing…’ I slowly released my iron grip on the clad-monkey, yet warily keeping my eyes on all three.

I cautiously let go of the clad-monkey I’d held hostage, waiting for any sign that it was about to attack me.

It didn’t. In fact, it slowly moved from under me, but didn’t do any sudden moves.

The other two moved also, circling around me to the monkey I’d grabbed. None of them took their eyes off me, and eventually they all stood side-by-side in different poses, ready to attack or dodge.

The first to break the standoff was me. I slowly got up on my feet, knife still in hand. I moved backward in single steps, always being prepared to dodge in any direction.

I tightly tied my bag to me and I backed away until I was out of their sight, at which point I turned around and sprinted away at full speed.

***

I weaved through the underbrush, desperately trying my best to remember the shortest path to the village. I knew approximately where I was, but couldn’t guess which path was faster from where I stood.

I guessed. Having neither the time nor the energy to figure it out properly.

My speed increased dramatically once I’d committed and found a path rather than wandering around near-aimlessly, having recovered almost fully from my previous injuries. I judged I could gather my energy to increase my speed.

There were no roads between most villages. Un-ironically, the only tangible result of the council was militaristic action in the face of an individual gathering more power than the old-farts in the council were comfortable with. You’d think a gathering of the most powerful people all on the same side would produce astonishing amounts of progress and growth, but you’d be wrong.

‘Of all the things you can do with power, they kept each other in check.’ I shook myself out of that train of thought. It leads nowhere.

Whilst still sprinting at full speed along the uneven ground. I diverted some of the energy I’d gathered to stop the bleeding, as some scratches that hadn’t fully closed were ripped back open. The path was really un-intuitive and energy intensive, so I could only stop the bleeding rather than heal the injuries completely.

More and more of the energy that had seeped into my muscles was used to preserving their function rather than increase their output. There would be hell to pay later, but time was of essence.

The entire world turned into a blur. I was going faster than I could realistically perceive, only spending the bare minimum to allow my perception to keep up.

Luckily, I encountered no more Rasts on the path, and it wasn’t a moment too soon. I’d just crossed the top of a mountain when my eye caught the village in the distance.

By that point, I could already feel my muscles ripping themselves apart, but I didn’t want to slow down every minute counted.

I didn’t need any extra motivation to ignore the pain. That my sister would live was enough. I felt my entire body cook itself. The energy allowed me to ignore every safety measure that it had evolved to protect itself.

People that hadn’t had sufficient practice or been too careless had crippled themselves. High on the power and strength, they suddenly collapsed when their energy ran out. I’ve seen it happen. It’s a tragic sight. I saw them, their muscles bulging with vitality, their roaring laughter as they slew their enemy, ripping them apart. Stomping victoriously on their prey only to collapse a second later. Shrinking into mere husks, a shadow of their former selves.

I once again shook that image out of my mind. It didn’t matter. She can’t die. I won’t allow it.

When the wall finally appeared between the trees, I wanted to scream with joy. I practically burst through the gate. Even though the guards recognised me as we’d been old childhood friends, they were no less shocked at my speed. I was probably looking like something out of a horror story. I knew my skin was red from the blood that was almost boiling beneath the surface.

I didn’t slow down despite getting inside the walls, but sped up, using the last of my reserve as I accelerated with a blinding speed. My feet paradoxically barely felt like they touched the ground, yet dug deeply into it with every step.

I had to slow down when I reached the village, lest I kill someone from colliding with them. Only just slow enough to react in case anyone stepped out in front of me.

The shaman’s house appeared in the village centre and I did my very best to get the energy under control and stop myself from dying via cooked organs.

I stumbled through the door and practically crashed into the room where the shaman was still keeping watch. He hadn’t moved since I last saw him. He could stay like that for a months if he had to.

There were some downsides, like how long it took to ‘re-animate’. But essentially, it was just the opposite of what I did to speed up my run back.

I waited impatiently while blood returned to his pale face. I visibly saw it creep up from his chest. His fingers twitched at first. One at a time, they filled with blood, while I waited in agonising pain, both physical and psychological.

I turned my attention to Thomas, who looked almost as bad as me. His small frame was lying on the floor, half-wrapped in a thick blanket. I could see him sweating blood. He was obviously unconscious, but I could hear him breathe erratically.

The door to the room was closed, the air was thick and warm, yet Thomas was still shivering. Because of his half-conscious state, he had no control over himself and had, at some point, fallen off the bed.

The shaman needed to monitor him at all times, so he couldn’t spare the energy to ‘re-animate’ and put him back on the bed, one of the villagers probably came regularly to check on him.

‘Let’s hope he pulls through.’

I wouldn’t know how to face Edward if he didn’t. Their bond might not be the closest, but he'd made a promise, and he was gonna try his hardest to keep it.

“David.” A deep monotone voice brought me out of my musings.

“I got everything. I’ll watch over him while you conduct the ritual. Just hurry. Please.” I said, already entering the ‘prison’ to put Thomas back in the bed. His shivering intensified for a moment before abating, as it would continue to do every time I had to move him.

The shaman nodded and promptly disappeared from the room, having hurried out the door.

“Hey Thomas, you’re gonna be fine. I’ve gathered everything we need to wake Sandra up. You’ll probably be great friends when you meet.”

“Then we’ll all go and find your brother. He’s probably worried sick. He still thinks you’re a slave. Let’s just hope he hasn’t done anything stupid.”

I continued to talk to him for a while, trying my best to let the shaman conduct the ritual without disturbing him. Thomas was, of course, unconscious during the entirety of my one-sided conversation, likely too exhausted to become lucid. You slept next to nothing during the detoxing process. So the entire process was spent in exhaustion and half-delirium, except when you were woken to force food down your throat whether you liked it or not.

I tried to sit still, but because I wanted to see my sister, I was practically twitching in agitation on the chair whilst Thomas lay there in agony.

I desperately ignored my need for sleep and did my best to avoid collapsing. The strain was really getting to me now, but I wanted to talk to my sister when she woke up. If I fell asleep now, there’s no telling how long it’ll be before I wake up again.

***

After about 30 minutes, I wasn’t able to take it anymore. I quietly stood up and left the room, closing the door behind me. I quickly hurried through the halls till I found the courtyard, where I found the shaman writing the ritual markings on the ground, having just completed the second circle.

I bounced to the room where my sister was and carried her and the 2 other children to the courtyard, just wanting her to wake up.

By the time I’d carried all of them to the shaman and finished the third and final circle of the ritual markings, and placed the children within the circle.

He’d used the ingredients I’d gathered to create the ink he needed for the ritual. I watched nervously as he steadily carried the children over one by one and placed them inside the enormous circles.

My nervousness turned to anxiety when he grabbed his staff and began the ritual.

He walked solemnly around the circle, tapping his staff on the ground at equal intervals. With each tap, the circle seemed to become infused with energy, and a dim green light shone from the ink.

I noticed the harsh sunlight seemed to dim slightly as the circle glowed brighter and brighter with each tap.

Before long, the green light that shone from the circle was blinding, overpowering everything else. The sunlight had disappeared, and the only light in the world was the green circle. The rest of the world was total darkness. I couldn’t even see my hand when I held it up in front of my face.

Yet there was no sound besides the tapping of the shaman’s staff and his footsteps. I couldn’t hear my heartbeat or breathing. A chill travelled down my spine. This was why I couldn’t become a shaman. It felt unnatural. Forbidden.

Abruptly, the sound of thunder and wind violently crashing against windows filled my ears. It instantly deafened me as well. I couldn’t hear the shaman at all now.

A piercing scream like an arrow came from above and crashed into the ground.

Then the gravity came. it forced me to support myself by leaning against the wall behind me. I simultaneously felt the air being pushed out of my lungs as the increased gravity pushed against my chest.

It might’ve lasted for just an instant or gone on for several minutes, I wasn’t sure. But it left me extremely dizzy, out of breath, and weak when it finally stopped.

I ignored all of that and dashed over to the circle. The moment the light returned, and the circle stopped glowing. The sound stopped and returned to normal.

I stopped just in front of my sister and reached out to touch her. My shaking hand gently touched her face. My hand, stained with dirt and blood that hadn’t washed out.

I held my breath as I waited for any sign of her waking up.

She stirred. I saw out of the corner of my eye a gentle twitch of her fingers. I tensed, not knowing where to put my hands, finally simply placing them in my lap and clenched them so hard they turned white.

Another twitch.

Then a movement.

She sighed loudly, as if she’d just taken her first breath.

Her eyes fluttered, but didn’t open. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but she didn’t speak.

I didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but she suddenly locked my eyes with hers as she sat up.

A scowl suddenly marked her face as she recognised me. I quietly bowed my head in preparation for her hatred

“You.” she said, like she was looking at a stranger.

“Where were you?” She continued.

I stared at her dumbly, but stayed quiet.

“You were supposed to protect us!” she said and scratched my face.

I didn’t resist but merely fell back limply as I accepted the punishment I deserved

Sandra leapt upon me hysterically.

“You. Were. Supposed. To. Protect. Us.” With each word, she slapped me as hard as she could.

I choked out a sob at her distress, I'd failed her. I was supposed to protect her.

“Mom. Dad. My friends! All! Dead! You! You’re the one. You should’ve been there!” Her voice quivered with every word.

She screamed hysterically, throwing a violent fit.

I couldn’t look her in the eyes at all. Her pain was too much for me to handle.

The shaman gently lifted her off me, having finally regained his emotions from the energy stasis.

He comforted her and slowly, but firmly led her out of the courtyard.

I dared to look at her while she was leaving, and caught a glance of her face and it shattered me.

Her face was flush with anger and she heaved from the exertion. Her hands were bloody as she’d pounded and scratched.

But worst of all? There were trails of tears down her face, and her eyes were red. And despite having just woken up, her lips were torn open as she chewed them in distress.

I had accepted that she would probably never forgive me. But seeing her hurt cut me more deeply than any knife me more than any knife ever could.

I couldn't fault her for it. My sister hated me. My entire family, except for her, was dead. And I’d caused their deaths.

And suddenly I was left all alone in the courtyard, with small but bloody scratch marks all over my face.