Zvanimir should have been through the door by now, but something was holding him back. The existential dread he was feeling at the thoughts that were clouding his mind was something that shouldn’t be this tangible, this real.

The weight of who he might have been was forcefully placed atop his shoulders and it was not a pleasant feeling. The entire structure of the bones and muscles that formed his body was now being put under an unknowably immense pressure, like the weight of the world was placed atop his shoulders.

“Soldier, what are you doing.”

He had bent the knee, bowing his head down low before nothing.

“I don’t know, I can’t move how I want.”

It wasn’t only his body, he could feel it in his soul as well, pressing him down lower and lower until his forehead touched the ground itself. He tried to push himself up with his hands but it was of no use.

The longer the feeling went on, the more it felt not like a weight or a burden, but like a presence that was there, pushing him down… pushing him into place.

An idea that far surpassed his own existence, dominating his entire being through unseen force.

“I can not help you, there are no words I can speak that will allow you to carry the burden. But if you call to the seed, it might be able to aid you.”

“What is the name?”

“That I can not tell you, soldier, you must find it out yourself.”

Zvanimir’s body refused to cooperate in any way. No matter how hard he tried, all he could do was bow down to this immeasurable force that had taken control over his body.

“Come to me Hrast, we need you”

At the beckon of Baba’s words, the vines and roots sprang into shape before their eyes.

It was difficult for Zvanimir to tell exactly what was happening, but he could feel a hand pull him up and carry him over to the tree house. It was a few steps, but he could hardly move on his own.

“Call to my brother, he will surely help you.”

A strange voice was coming from next to Zvanimir. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, or even a human for that matter. It was a voice, that he was sure of, but it sounded off, not like something the human body was able of producing.

“How do I call him?”

He tried to lift his eyes to look at the mysterious figure helping him, but his head was still firmly pointed towards the ground with no hopes of being moved anywhere which prevented him from seeing this unknown helper.

“He will respond to your call, but you must find out how to do so yourself, I can’t help you there. I am sorry.”

It was of no help. What was he supposed to do? Call out to whom even? Who was it that would come to his aid in such a moment?

Please, I call to you whoever you are, help me.

He directed his thoughts inward, into himself. Aiming them at his very soul.

And there was a response.

“Ⱄⱅⰰⱀⰴ ⰰⰾⱁⱀⰵ.”

It wasn’t the response he had hoped for, but it was something. Just not something good.

He could suddenly hear a sound similar to that of a tree being snapped in half.

“Hrast, what is happening, you should not be so weak as to crumble beneath the weight of a mere man?”

Baba’s voice was filled with concern. More so than at any moment before.

Up until now, no matter what happened, she could control the situation, but this was something that was completely and utterly outside of her control. Something equally exciting and terrifying.

“I don’t know. He bears the weight of a single man, but it is far greater than my frame can handle.”

The sound of splitting wood continued until finally Zvanimir was on the ground again, planted into the dirt.

This time his whole frame was pushed against the ground with no hopes of escape.

You called for me?

A voice was resounding in Zvanimir’s body. It felt like a thought of his own, but it was something else.

I need your help, whoever you are.

It was a strange feeling, talking inside yourself, but not with yourself.

I can give you aid, but you need to call my name.

A name?

What is your name?

There was silence. No more thoughts could flood Zvanimir’s mind, only an idea. The idea of a being that resided within, a being that was now part of him. He didn’t know it, he had no way of doing so, but he knew its name. The name was told to him- no, not told, he had given it the name.

“Javor!”

As Zvanimir exclaimed the name into the world, he felt something inside himself change. The fibres of his body felt different, like something was touching them.

The bones in his arm that had been broken moved into place. Every muscle in his body was given another layer, as were the bones. His right arm sprouted vines that lined it, perfectly following the natural flow of his physique.

It was enough to give him a chance, the rest was up to him. His body was reinforced now by whatever Javor was, but the same did not go for his will, that was up to him alone and no one else.

“Ⱀⱁⱅ ⰵⱀⱁⱆⰳⱈ.”

Again the voice rang out around him.

He could not make out the words, but he could make out something else, he could clearly hear the challenge. His will was being challenged…

And deep inside of him, he knew that he had to accept it.

-

Baba and Hrast stood by Zvanimir, looking at the man as his arm was being covered in the same vines that made up the body of Hrast. They suited the man’s frame, but they were also a foreign body, that much was clear to the two of them.

They could both clearly see that his body was being changed in some way, but neither could be completely sure what would happen, they had done this kind of thing only once before after all.

“Javor, it is a good name. I welcome you into this world, brother Javor!”

Hrast shouted out in response to Zvanimir, but the man on the ground didn’t seem to notice anything happening in the world around him.

“Should I help him now?”

Hrast began to move closer to Zvanimir, reaching his hand down towards him to grab the man as Baba pulled him back.

“It would seem that I have misunderstood what needed to be done. Let him fight his own battle Hrast, he wishes to be stubborn still.”

Hrast nodded and stepped back, remaining by Baba’s side, watching the scene unfold.

The two stood anxiously, observing the man carefully as he lay on the ground, not moving. There was something that held him tightly within its grasp, a force unseen that would not accept being defied.

Baba had seen such a thing before, but only once, many years ago. It was a memory she seldom looked back on. It caused her great pain and even greater guilt.

Maybe this would be a chance for her to redeem herself. At the very least, she would try to ease her own conscience, as selfish as it may be.

-

His will was being challenged, Zvanimir was sure of that, but how would he fight back against it? He barely had any will of his own, there was no more to him than survival. What could he do except survive without a will to call his own?

My will? What will it be? How does a person even create a will?

It was a question that made little sense. It made sense that a person should have a will, it was natural. The heart of man seeks things, be they big or small, but there was always something the human heart sought.

It was unclear to him why, but he knew this for a fact. If he was sure of anything in this world, it was this. But what did he seek? What was it that his heart sought after?

How do I know what my heart seeks?

The confidence was being drained from Zvanimir’s body as the realisation set in. He was a man with no will, no goal he could call his own, nothing that he could upon to guide his life. He was despair.

-

Hrast looked at Baba with more and more concern as Zvanimir continued to lay motionless on the ground. It had been more than ten minutes and the man had not even twitched.

“Are you certain this is the way? Is there not something we can do?”

Baba sighed. She knew that there was nothing one could do in a situation such as this. It was his will versus whatever had stuck to him like a pest, the will of another most likely.

She crouched down and took a look at his back.

“He is still breathing, as long as he is, we should not interfere. There is nothing we can do but watch him at this time.”

Hrast knew this as well as Baba, but he still wished that there was something that could be done, anything to help the man who reminded them both of a long-lost girl they had once known.

Well, she wasn’t really lost, just lost to them. A constant reminder of failure and Baba’s irresponsibility.

-

The despair was beginning to swallow Zvanimir whole, there was nothing he could cling to, no goal or hope that would free him from the grasps of emptiness that were clinging to his soul.

Maybe it’s alright. Maybe I should just let go. I don’t have anything to fight for.

The thoughts began making their way into him.

Even if there is someone waiting for me, I won’t be the person they wish for. It will just be a disappointment for them.

Deeper and deeper he sank.

I could continue to struggle for nothing, but what was the purpose in that. I should just let it all go.

Until eventually he touched the bottom, or rather, his soul did.

The sinking feeling stopped, there was nowhere left to sink anymore after all. It was the end.

Like an empty shell at the bottom of the ocean, Zvanimir was stranded in the depths of the force that wished to dominate him.

He heard the challenge, felt it, and he wanted to respond, he really did. There was no reason why he would, but it just spoke to him in a way that felt right.

But he just couldn’t, as much as he wished to, he had no will to do so. As if someone knew exactly what was needed for him to crumble.

It was akin to a skilled builder removing one specific brick that would make an, until then, impenetrable castle crumble to dust. Whoever issued this challenge knew every brick that made up Zvanimir. It was someone who knew how to turn him to dust with no more than words.

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But if words were all it took to make him crumble, were there words that would build him up again?

The answer was yes, and someone would say them.

In the solitude of despair, the voice of Javor rang out with monstrous echoes.

Zvanimir, you have no heart.

No heart? A man with no heart? It couldn’t be, every man had a heart, it had to be.

Zvanimir, where your heart should be, there is nothing. A soul does not reside with you.

A man with no heart and no soul. For some reason, this was unimaginable to Zvanimir.

No.

It was something else. It was wrong. It was not how a man was meant to be.

It was infuriating.

-

“Look, he is moving!”

Hrast exclaimed as he noticed Zvanimir’s arm rise and push against the ground.

“He has found a way.”

Baba smiled with relief as she too saw Zvanimir slowly and painfully rise to his knees. His expression like that of a mad bull, ready to tear down anything that meets his gaze.

“It is fortunate that his gaze does not fall upon us.”

Baba nodded to Hrast, who retreated back into the ground.

“You have thirsted for battle, here is your chance.”

As the words left her mouth, a black creature emerged out of the trees in a cloud of mist. Zvanimir could see it to, before his eyes.

He finally stood up and began to breathe heavily. But so did the creature.

The large beast on four legs began to charge in his direction, as did he in its, until the head of Zvanimir met the horns of the goat like animal.

Baba knew what would happen, yet she was still met with a small surprise.

Zvanimir stood for a second after clashing with the beast, not falling to the ground. It was longer than she expected, but after the second passed, he collapsed to the ground.

The goat like being retreated back into the forest, giving a courteous bow to Baba before completely disappearing.

-

A flash of light appeared before Zvanimir’s eyes. And then, a goat? It didn’t matter, all that did was that he had won. He might have not had a heart or a soul, but he had a will now.

A will and a goal.