Daylight arrived, as it always did. Its steady eradication of the darkness was typically met with joy, or at least, begrudging acceptance. On these footrests of mountains however, the boy was still running. True, his pace had slowed considerably, but movement was progress. What alternative was there? The fear remained, but it had faded hours ago into an irritating murmur. After all, you could only be scared for so long before your body shut down. Eiron had pushed past this point.

His eyes were tunneled, only a tiny circle of his surroundings were discernable. With the dawn, trees were clear enough to avoid. He lowered an aching hand covered in scratches. If he was honest with himself, running was a grave exaggeration. Falling forward with a jerky motion was more accurate. Why was he still moving? He wasn't sure. Attempting to figure out the answer to that, or any of the other pressing questions, would be far more painful than taking another step. It still hurt horribly.

Inside his shoes, the skin was rubbed raw. Even his joints hesitated to respond to his commands. A weight behind his eyes was steadily chipping away at his resolve. Every single impact with the ground sent a shock traveling up each leg, all the way to his head. There, it gathered and built upon itself. Throbbing with a deep ache, it crowded out coherent thought.

The trees here were darker, their bark, a spiny shield against the elements. Leaves had given way to needles. Several of them still protruded from his skin, long forgotten. The wind was sharper as well. If he paused, then the chill covering his body would become real, so he didn't. Besides eliminating the shadows, that was the other blessing of that sphere in the sky, warmth filled the land. It did not rejuvenate, not in his current state, but it kept him alive.

On and on, he staggered. Bruised, battered, pierced, in mind and body; true too, the soul. Were there animals nipping at his heels? Had there ever been? Was it all just bewildered imagination? None could answer for he hadn't asked. Maybe he had spoken the questions aloud, hours before, he couldn't remember. No, thoughts were imprisoned. They couldn't be trusted even if he could bear their presence. They would trip him, send him tumbling backward all the way to that dusty field. Motion did help, though marginally. As repeated over and over in his mind, it was all he had. If there was energy to be spared, he would have chuckled grimly. Thoughts always made their escape.

The darkness in his vision continued to expand, a suffocating vignette leaving only pinpricks of light. He was walking now? Pausing to lean against the bark from time to time? Perhaps. If so, a panic arose each time and drove him forward. He had to move. Falls were less common now that stones could be seen, at least subconsciously. The climb back to his feet...another thought to lock away. Minutes, seconds, hours...they all passed by as equals.

Feet, inches, and miles, copped them. There was one external constant, altitude. There wasn't enough air to replenish his lungs, breaths increased from haggard to desperate. The soil had transitioned to lose rock, an added nightmare to his footing. Grasses still clung to life in patches, but those were become more rare. Another fall, he couldn't stand. He didn't stop. Crawling over sharp edges left their mark, they blended in with all the others.

A moment of lucidity, why couldn't he stop? His soul cried out an answer, it would mean it had all been real. Hands slid over the gravel, knees followed. Eyelids dropped shut, it didn't matter, he could still feel. The rocks under his shins clinked together, sliding out from underneath. Sprawled out, he took a shuddering breath and pulled them back up. The sun was hotter now, the stone under his palms stung. He slowed more, never stopping. Fingers found relief on one of those random patches of grass. They curled around the blades, he couldn't open them. In fact, he found movement had abandoned him entirely. For a split second, sheer terror, far worse than the lurkers of night. Then, oblivion.

Too soon, far too soon, he awoke. At first, he thought he was paralyzed. He forced a leg to twitch, how he wished he had been. Every moment was like shattering glass under his skin. Dry...everything was dry. He drew in air and choked. His throat felt wrong, intensely so. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, his lips were fused. Instinct stole control. The sack! Had it fallen? Agonizingly slow, he reached a hand to his shoulder... ripped fingertips connected with leather. It remained!

He pushed it off and tried to roll over. It took several attempts. Finally, the small pouch was free. Undoing the fastening cords was an even greater challenge. It fell away at last, he dug inside. The familiar surface of a waterskin had never felt so soft. He threw off the cork and greedily chugged it down. The first few drops loosened his lips, the rest gave him life. He drank it dry, his thirst remained. It was manageable now, but with that distraction gone, others clamored for attention. A splitting headache, abused muscles, and those relentless thoughts. It was agony.

He sat up fully, shading his eyes from the light. It was midday? He had not slept long enough. Hunger took the chance to strike. He bent over in pain, the sack was explored once more. A few vegetables, a flint and steel...stalks? Sulcar bulbs? Why were those within? He pondered it while his body took over the act of eating. In a strange way, it did make sense. After all, he was the only one who could sense the essence they contained, but it was a cruel joke nonetheless. He ate every vegetable, unmindful of the squashed portions. Every bit was consumed rapidly, even the stems.

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Then he sat back, or rather, laid. Sleep called to him again, but it was not the same desperate urge from a few hours before. He had time to think. A dangerous thing, but it could not be avoided forever. What was there to do, to say? Life was empty now...wait, that wasn't quite right. Life was pain, that was closer to the truth. Rest had reset his mind as much as it could. He thought back to the day before, the harvest. A lifetime separated the present from those memories. What was existence now? So much had been taken away, all that he had believed. He was the same as these rocks, sitting there with no purpose.

Was there something beyond the ridge? A destination or just more empty expanse? Even if there were something there, did it matter? He had already lost everything. Life wouldn't cost him much more. Laboriously, he turned his head. Despite everything, the view was incredible. The plains were stretched out far below him, as far as he could see. The village, a twinge at the thought, it was out of sight. There was a tiny blue line that snaked across the landscape. Something so familiar, it made the distance all the more real.

He sat there for a long time, pondering existence, finding no worthwhile solutions. The food had set to work, repairing what it could. His energy was no longer in a deficit. Thirst heightened at the same time. Picking up the waterskin, Eiron stared at it. It was so light, fragile. He scanned the mosaic of little stones, the cork had tumbled quite a ways. There was nothing to do besides keep moving. Hope was a luxury he could not afford, let alone wished to. He stood, oh the pain. He grabbed the sack as well and moved. The cork was snatched up, bending over was even worse, he stowed it away.

Back down he stepped, slid, and stepped again. Trees appeared more often the farther down he traveled. Everything was so far apart. All his life he had lived next to the river, how strange to lack water. Wandering around, there wasn't much to see. A few plants, trees, rocks, all looked the same after a while. A few birds chirped now and again, but otherwise, it was silent.

More wandering, the only thing that broke the monotony was a new sound. It was faint but grew as he walked. Some sort of wind? Maybe he had damaged his ears during one of his many falls. It did get louder though. Several minutes later, he picked up his pace. It was a sound he knew so deeply, he hadn’t realized what had been missing until he heard it once more. Flowing water.

A few minutes later, he rounded a small rise and saw it. How tiny it was, just a little stream bouncing down the mountain. He quickened his pace, winced and nearly collapsed, slowed it once more. No need to rush, he would get there soon enough. All along each side, plants grew in lush clusters. He bent one aside to pass, and promptly froze.

Something moved. Something, because even while looking straight at it, he had no idea what it was. Moved, in an undulating mass that made chills flash across his entire body. The only reassurance he had, was that it graced the other side of the stream. Everything else screamed for him to flee. It didn't matter how slowly he could sprint after that strenuous night for he was transfixed.

It was bright yellow with hundreds of red stripes. Why wasn't that quite right? Eiron's brain knew what made his skin crawl, but he couldn't accept it. That...thing...flowed over the ground in a mockery of the water nearby. In it's wake, it left nothing. Now this would normally seem fine, not many things left a trail behind them, but this was...wrong. He watched it fold over a tall clump of grass and move on. Every bit of green was gone. There was no plant, no stick, nothing but rock and dirt where once had been life.

He couldn't look away. A sinking feeling hit his body as he finally accepted his brain's conclusion. It wasn't a thing, it was many things. Far more than he could count, they blended together. He squinted and could make out the faint borders between each one. A tiny shadow here, discoloration there. They coiled over one another, oozing together, rolling across the ground. Was each red stripe one individual...thing? Eiron shuddered, he couldn't stop. Revolting, abhorrent, even those words didn't strike him as appropriate. This was somehow worse.

The mass crept across the landscape, slowly, but always moving. It eradicated everything that crossed its path. Nothing was left. Not daring to breathe, Eiron took a step backward, eyes locked on the...creature? It paused. He paused. Tense moments hung in the air, the birds themselves contained their singing. It broke the stalemate first, continuing on. Eiron had thought his body was far past emotions and internal sensations, the need to live always found a way. He could feel fear again, his mind was clear. However, he remained still. He just watched it travel up the stream, touching the water on occasion and recoiling from the liquid. Once it was beyond his sight, he waited longer.

When the birds resumed their merry tunes, he turned in the opposite direction the yellow/red horror had traveled and began walking. Downstream, he risked filling his waterskin, eyes darting around while the water rushed in. He took a few more steps while draining it dry once more. Repeating the process until his stomach felt bloated, he filled it once last time and hurried away before the thing could reappear.

With this new revelation, every bush held hidden eyes watching him. In the canopies above, predators crouched. This was not a mindless fear like the night had been, somehow, that made it worse. He slunk between tree and bush, taking care to avoid drawing attention from anything that could be nearby. Once he was far enough from the stream that its babbling was inaudible, he set his feet and traveled up the slope. It was as good a direction as any.