The first thing Maridah did was drag Liam across the swamp. Literally drag him, as she elongated her shadowy wolf tail to wrap around his torso, then proceeded to walk, with Liam’s floating body drifting along for the ride. None bothered them, but whether this was because the Goddess had picked a safe route, or merely that mortal beasts dared not bother her, Liam couldn’t tell.

“You should unbury your secret,” she said, breaking the silence. “At this point, it is only holding you back.”

“I beg to differ.” Liam tried to shrug, but his everything complained in response. “I clearly wanted to get some stuff out of the way, at least those were my feelings at the time.” He tried twiddling his fingers, but even that brought about pain.

“I sense you would have noticed my test, and the trap, were you aware of all that you know.” Maridah commented. “You’re holding yourself back. But in what way, or for what purpose, is not clear.”

“I’d complain, but I guess it makes sense that a Goddess of secrets would be nosy.” He shook his head. “I can’t answer your question either way. I have a hunch that if I recalled everything, I would be getting in my own way. I’ll trust that feeling for now.”

The wolf of shadows looked at him for a while longer, the tail retreating to its normal length. “Do you know where you are right now?”

Liam closed his eyes, trying to recall the mental map of the world. “We are… in the Twilight Jungle. It rests north of the Caliphate, and somewhere in it are the ruins of Dardaran, the capital of the kingdom that once took you for its matron.” He wriggled a little. “That was a few million years ago, though, and you’ve done a great deal of things to ensure none remember its existence.”

For a moment, those fiery eyes looked at him with surprise, widening ever so slightly. “And how you learned these things remains buried, of course.” The creature drew closer, looking at him carefully. “Is this some petty comeback? Will you keep testing my patience?”

“I’ll tell you when I feel I’ve repaid you for getting me dropped out of an airship,” he answered in a very non-petty way.

Her eyes narrowed. “I was going to heal your injuries, but I’ve reconsidered.”

Then she was gone.

Liam couldn’t do much more than lay there in an ever-present pervasive pain that made any movement just about impossible. His gaze lingered about, trying to find anything of use in the labyrinth of trees, roots, and greenery, but there was nothing to grasp at. He couldn’t even tell what time of day it was or what direction was east because the canopy blotted out the sky. Everything was cast into a tepid darkness that was fitting for the name of the place.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and drifted off. Everything had been too exhausting, he was too tired, and he was too weak. Hopefully, when he woke up at least the pain would’ve diminished somewhat.

----------------------------------------

The nap was a lie.

Everything that was bad had just gotten worse, and the headache that joined the party was not helping either.

“You either have no sense of danger or of shame, probably both,” Maridah’s fiery wolf eyes glared down at him. “When a Goddess tells you you will fend for yourself and leaves, you are supposed to do something about it.”

“I did,” he groaned out. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

The Goddess-in-wolf-form silently glared. “And if I’d chosen to leave you to die?”

“As your guest, I would expect nothing but the utmost care. After all, you are such a gracious, graceful, wise, wisened, aged, experienced, and thoughtful hostess.” He made a long circular hand gesture, bowing his head. “I am nothing but grateful for such generosity, to be the first mortal invited to your domain is… well, words just cannot describe it.”

She stared down at him, then sighed, shaking her head. “Not a day and I already regret not drowning you.” Turning around, she slapped his face with her tail. “Come.”

The Goddess had not denied he was a guest. He also noted that all the pain had vanished, his body felt like he’d just woken up from the most restoring sleep in his life.

Not adding any comments, he followed the wolf as she traversed the jungle. Or it would be more accurate to say that Maridah was the one traversing, while Liam was the one struggling.

While the vegetation dared not touch the shadowy wolf, parting for her, the same did not apply to him. Seemingly every root, branch, vine, and leaf that could get in his way did so. Every few steps was a tumble, and every yard of their trek felt like a struggle to keep up with the leisurely pace of the Goddess.

Liam felt as if he was due a sword, if only so he could hack and slash his way forward, but that would’ve done nothing to help, for he lacked the upper body strength.

The minutes stretched onward, the bugs left him well alone, but several times he encountered critters of bright colors he immediately recoiled away from. Each and every time Maridah would stop to look at him, as if observing every minute detail of his reactions.

And then, Liam noticed a peculiar patch of dirt sporting a peculiar set of butt-prints next to a tree, ones that appeared surprisingly like his own.

“We’re going in circles,” he called out.

Once more, Maridah just looked at him, those eyes made out of living flames piercing right through him. The Goddess did not comment, turning to continue leading the way after a few seconds.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

This time, she led them to a clearing that had a cave on the other side. The ground was well-trodden, clear of any vegetation, the entrance of the cave itself pitch-black and impossible to peer into.

Liam stopped at the exact edge of the clearing when Maridah had reached the center.

Again, the Goddess turned to look at him carefully.

Neither moved.

“This is not a safe place for me,” he declared, trying to fight the shiver that ran down his spine.

Maridah nodded once and turned towards him, brushing past Liam and stepping back into the jungle. He glanced over his shoulder at the cave one last time before hurriedly following along, not daring to speak up until they were well and truly far from that place.

“You’re testing me.”

“I cannot teach you if I’m not certain of your capabilities,” she replied casually, giving him a long look. “Your knowledge of this place is a patchwork of odd stretches of certainty interspersed with long spaces of ignorance. You know of the shared traits amongst poisonous creatures but not which ones are faking that threat. You know to remember certain features of your surroundings but only ones you directly interact with. You know of the markings of a predator but not its nature.” Maridah shook her head. “You never set foot in a place like this, yet know some of the bigger dangers while remaining blind to the smaller ones.” She flicked her tail. “This makes me believe you lack experience more than the knowledge itself. You know the knots but your fingers lack the dexterity and practice.”

Liam perked up. “You’ll teach me magic?”

“If I am to teach you, I will at least do so properly,” this time Maridah stopped, letting out a scoff. “A mortal without at least the knowledge of how to tie a simple spell is no mortal worth remembering.”

“And you might as well wash that dishonor away because you’ll have a hard time forgetting me,” he rolled his eyes.

The wolf’s tail lashed out like some malevolent dark tentacle, knocking the feet out from under him. Liam stumbled, rolled, and found himself with the wolf pinning him to the ground by sitting on his chest.

“If you wish to see it that way, then yes. I can’t have my first faithful be… well, this.” She used her paw to gesture at him.

“I’m your follower now?”

“You believed in my existence so fervently that my name on your lips was a great pyre in the dark. It burned so bright it made me run across the Caliphate to your aid. You have made vows of secrets with me, and you even willingly carry my blessing. What else would you be if not my faithful? Why, you might even fit the criteria of being my high priest, seeing how you have no one to compete with.” Amused, she hopped off his chest. “Now, for your first lesson, you will make yourself a campfire. Following this, I will graciously provide you with something for you to cook and eat.”

Liam wanted to complain that this was no place to make a campfire, but as soon as he tried to catch up, he found himself emerging from the thicker part of the jungle and into a weird clearing of some sort. This one was riddled with short plants and the odd bush, the ground relatively even and dry.

Somehow, he got the impression this was a part of the jungle that had been actively tended to.

Moving around carefully, and seeing that Maridah was nowhere to be seen, he sought out someplace that might seem more apt to start a fire. There was a nice dry patch of dirt next to a particularly large tree with little vegetation around it. With no one nor anything else around to lay claim to the spot, Liam proceeded to go looking for dry wood.

An hour later and his findings were… meager, to say the least. Two hours, and he’d gotten a hold of a few thick branches that had fallen off recently, not dry, but there didn’t seem to be an alternative available.

From there, he started to look for the other ingredients for the fire: dry leaves, some sticks to rub together, and the rope holding his pants in place… it was a small disaster, one that moved slowly, but one he progressed through all the same.

By the time light was starting to go from “somewhat dusk-y” to “definitely dark,” he’d managed to create a tiny ember that went out before it could even turn the leaves into tiny flames.

He went at it again.

The first attempt got him barely a twinkle of red glow.

Then again.

A whisper of flame.

And again.

More embers that died too soon.

And again.

Splinters pecked at his fingers, the chill of the night a tight hold around his knuckles.

Another attempt, and this time it made a flame.

Liam restrained himself from shouting out lest it kill his efforts. Carefully, almost lovingly, he fed the little flame some dried leaves and used its heat to dry twigs. He repeated the process for almost an hour before the twigs caught on fire, and then another reiteration but with larger branches.

Only once the whole thing had begun to crackle and roar did he let out a sigh of relief, slumping to the ground. It was then that something large and meaty thumped next to him, the cold dead eyes of a beast looking up into his own.

With a shriek, he jumped away, trying to scramble for any semblance of safety, only finding out it was dead half a heartbeat later. It was some sort of car-sized deer covered in leafy bristles.

“One has to wonder how you’ve survived to such an age when you require half a day to make a simple flame.” Maridah sat atop the dead thing. “But fire is fire, and you will now make your own meal.”

The wolf melted into the darkness, flowing off it like a river and reforming next to the fire. Her tail flickered, caressing the spot of dirt at Liam’s side, leaving a knife in its wake. It was a simple thing, a piece of blackened metal with wood at the handle, the blade itself no longer than his palm. Yet the darkness on the edge felt so sharp that Liam was sure he’d cut a finger off from a casual gesture.

“With fire comes civilization, and from civilization tools,” she spoke, her eyes locked on him again. “Here is your first, may it serve you well.”

A test of some sort, or perhaps something else.

Liam’s gaze lingered on the knife before he took it. It was heavier than he thought, but not by much.

“This will be the last meal I bring you,” Maridah proclaimed quietly. “If you handle it well, it should provide enough sustenance for four days. During that time you will learn how to find water, and how to hunt.”

He nodded a little, approaching the dead animal. There were no signs of a struggle, or injuries. It was as if it had died of its own volition. Liam bit his lip as he carefully walked around the downed monster. “I don’t recognize this species,” he finally concluded.

“It is a mutation of a normal deer, local to this jungle alone.”

“Not a monster, then.”

“No, only an animal,” she replied. “Monsters are something I seldom hunt, their flesh can sit ill even to a Goddess.”

Liam suspected she’d told a half-lie. The true reason why she didn’t want to hunt monsters in her own domain was because they served as protection from outsiders. And so long as the things within the jungle stayed within the jungle, then outsiders would have a hard time peering into the mysteries that lived within.

It was truly her domain, she’d discreetly and slowly cultivated it over a longer period of time than entire civilizations had existed.

He hoped they’d get to the magic part soon, but had a feeling Maridah wasn’t about to let him skip steps in whatever grand course she’d prepared.