Something bellowed in the forest, and Xander barely paused to grab his bow before running towards the sound. The noise had been preceded by a crash and followed by a faint chiming of bells. One of his traps had been sprung, and Xander had to reach his prey before it was too late. He could feel the hunger gnawing at his belly with every step. Two days since his last meal that wasn’t just moss. The months since his exile had started to eat away at his body, and only adrenaline kept his footsteps steady. 

Only a half dozen steps into his mad dash, and a haunting laughter trickled out from between the enormous trees of the primeval forest that had become his home, giving an extra edge to his frantic pace. Not again, Xander said to himself, already trying to figure out if there would be time. The laughter was behind him, but that meant the source was within earshot - and if he wasn’t careful, they would come up behind him. They preferred their prey already injured, but Xander was growing weak enough for them to consider him prey.

Reflexes he thought he’d long ago purged flared up, and Xander flicked his eyes to the side, allowing words to fill his vision. Stupid, useless words, telling him what he already knew.

Foundation: Broken

That was it. Just two words, where there had once been dozens. His vital attributes, telling him how far along he was, how well he’d refined his core, how much essence he had available, listing his strength and speed and the techniques he knew...all just replaced with two simple words reminding him of what he was. Broken. 

Something raced past him, and Xander snarled. The source of the laughter was surpassing him. Once, Xander would have been able to outrun these beasts without much effort. That time was gone now. Instead, he pushed himself harder, trying to move as quickly as muscle that was starved for both food and chi would allow.

Ahead, the pained bellows stopped with a sickening crunch. The other hunters had beat him to the prey. Yesterday and the day before, this was where Xander had stopped, pulling back. Today, however, he nocked an arrow. Another day without food, and he’d soon be too weak to do this. Today required a desperate action. 

Xander burst into the clearing where the predators and prey waited. The animal he’d caught in his crude trap was already bleeding from its throat, one of the predators working its jaws through the deer’s neck. Soon their jaws would sever its head, their preferred method of finishing a kill. Two of the other predators whipped their heads to face him. Their jaws were thick and powerful, somewhere between a wolf’s and a lion’s, and their bodies were thick and stocky, almost apelike in their their sloped backs - right up until it reached the tail, which arced over their head and ended in a wicked stinger. 

They seemed surprised to see Xander. He had been expecting them. That was the only edge he had. Xander drew back his bow in a fluid motion. Even though they were no longer useful, the old breathing techniques still served to steady his hands even while everything in him wanted to tremble. Before the scorenas could fully respond to  his presence, Xander sent an arrow streaking towards the closest one.

His shot flew true, the arrow sprouting from the beast’s hide. It yelped in pain and snarled, snapping at its compatriots, but Xander was already nocking another arrow. 

The beasts turned and ran. For now. The scorenas knew Xander was weak, they must have smelled it on him, but they were not true Beasts, just animals, and so they would not be able to sense his broken foundation. It had bought Xander time and a meal, but they would be back. Now that he’d bloodied them, he’d all but sealed his fate. He’d gone from a possibly difficult meal to a threat to the pack. 

Right now, Xander didn’t care. He had food. He could worry about the threat later. And if the scorenas turned back to hunt him...well, they were scavengers.

It made sense they’d hunt someone who was already dead. 

***

By the time Xander had returned to his home with his prey, even the old breathing techniques wouldn’t steady his limbs. It wasn’t much of a home. A simple shelter of woven branches to keep the rain and sun off his head, half buried in the dirt like the den of some animal, with two pits outside - one for cooking, the other to store meat that had been cured. He was tired, sweaty, and his stomach was screaming for food. A small part of him told him to cut into the deer right now, slice off a sliver of meat and bite into it. Just to take care of the worst hunger pains while he set the fire. He pushed that thought aside. He would not eat like a beast. Not yet. He wasn’t that far gone. Not yet.

Instead, he walked over to the wood in the fire pit, grasping for the flint and steel out of his pouch. His fingers scraped against the coarse cloth of his loose pants in the process. Simple and brown, they were all that had survived these months of isolation. He barely noticed how they scraped his legs anymore. His sweat dampened hair, grown long from lack of care, fell into his face as he turned his head town, feeling around his pouch. It had to be here, somewhere. What could have happened to it? Last night he’d made a fire to keep warm, and he’d placed them back in the pouch where they’d-

His fingers found a hole in the bottom.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“No,” Xander said. “No no no.” His hands trembled as he turned the pouch inside out, spilling its contents onto the ground. A few items tumble out. A necklace with a steel pendant, the sigil on the front scraped away. A folded piece of parchment. Some small stones to be used in a sling, and a couple obsidian arrowheads.

No sign of the flint and steel. 

Xander set his hands on the ground, falling to his knees. His mind raced. Could obsidian be used to make sparks? If he could scrape it against the medallion, maybe he could-

There was a crack followed by a wave of heat, and Xander reared back. The wood in the fire had roared to life, a warm flame washing over Xander’s face. Frozen between relief and confusion, Xander could only stare at it for a moment.

His confusion was broken when someone behind him coughed.

Xander whirled, already reaching for a new arrow. There was a man sitting on a log, wearing red and black silk and giving Xander an expression that rested halfway between amusement and pity. He held up a hand as Xander nocked the bow. “Is this how you greet all your guests? I had hoped you haven’t gone completely feral. Or are you not Xander Zenoria?”

Xander froze at his name. It had been so long since he’d last heard it. Slowly, his intellect caught up with his instincts. The man was wearing silk. His skin was pale, not the tan of Xander’s hide. His hair was cropped short. But most importantly, from his neck hung a pendant like Xander’s, but in sparkling gold.

Xander dropped the bow and went down to one knee, pulling his right fist into his left shoulder. “Forgive me, Revered One. I had not expected visitors.”

The man let out a huff of air. “You can call me Markus. Please, no titles. There’s no one around but us, and I’d rather not waste time. And start preparing yourself some food! Look at you, you’re half starved, that won’t do at all.”

Xander hesitated for only a moment, but old practices of a civilization he’d left behind could only withstand the onslaught of hunger for so long. He bowed a bit deeper before rising and starting to hack a piece of meat off the deer. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said, peeling away the fur and hide as quickly as he could. “It has been some time since I last ate.”

“No apology required. You seem to be struggling. May I offer you a hand?”

Xander froze, his eyes narrowing. “Revered One - Markus. I cannot accept. If you know who I am, you know why that is.”

Markus sighed. “It is just us here, as I said. Please. You are making a mess of things, and-”

“If you want to kill me,” Xander growled. “Just get it over with. It is just us here, as you want me to remember so badly. You can claim I begged you for aid. You can claim I had become a leech. But don’t make me go to the next life with my soul sullied further than it already-”

Markus moved too quickly for Xander to follow, his hand grabbing the back of Xander’s shirt. He yanked back, pulling Xander away and tossing him into the woods like a child discarding a toy that was no longer amusing. Xander closed his eyes. So the scorenas wouldn’t be his death. This strange man would be. Well. When he landed, he’d draw his bow. He’d fire a couple useless arrows. He would die with a weapon in his hands and in battle against someone more powerful than him. It would be a good death.

Xander landed in a shrub, the plant cushioning his fall. Miracle upon miracles, his bow hadn’t broken. Xander stood quickly, drawing the weapon. Markus was hunched over the deer. Xander reached for his quiver - only to find it gone. Markus, without looking at Xander, held it up. “You have not permitted me to do this for you,” Markus said. “I have forced aid upon you. There is no sullying in this. Now. Are you going to insist on attacking me, so I have to butcher this deer with one hand and fight you with the other? Or are you going to lay back and let me finish.”

For a moment, Xander considered the options, but ultimately settled back into the bush. The gods would not judge him harshly for allowing this, not when he’d tried. “Thank you,” Xander said softly.

“You’re quite welcome. And...I do apologize for asking if I could help. I should have just started with this. I meant no dishonor on you.” 

Uncertain what to say, Xander just laid back while Markus finished his task. Soon, the smell of venison reached his nose, and Xander started to shake with hunger. Markus gave a small whistle when the meat was fully cooked, and Xander stumbled over to the fire pit, accepting the stick. He bit into it, and the unseasoned meat that had been cooked so quickly it had burnt tasted like a feast for kings when sprinkled with his hunger.

“Thank you again,” Xander said, once the meat was gone. “But...and I apologize for this, but I ignored some important points in my hunger. Who are you? And...why were you looking for me?”

Markus leaned forward and smiled. “Those two questions are perfectly intertwined,” he said. “I was looking for you because you are one of the Broken, Xander. I was looking for you because I have an opportunity for you. A chance for you to be made whole, if you will listen.”

Xander didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.”

Markus blinked. “You didn’t even hear what it was.”

“Three months,” Xander said. “Three months ago my foundation was broken by that coward. Three months ago I was expelled from the school, from the city, and from our civilization, so I would not be a burden on the strong. Three months of the Inner Wilds, where no Husk will find me to grow stronger off my weak flesh. Three months where I am dead in all ways that matter save a beating heart. You could tell me that slitting my throat would repair me, and I would pull back my hair to let you open the vein of your choice.”

Markus nodded. “I thought that was the case. Well then, Xander. I won’t say I mind being spared a moment longer here. Would you like the explanation before or after you’ve…” Markus wrinkled his nose. “Bathed?” Markus only paused for a half breath before sighing. “And to spare us the hassle, it will satisfy the gods if we accept that I am more than capable of forcing you to do everything I am offering.”

Xander was fine with that halfhearted threat being enough to keep his soul clean of further stain. The nearest town was an hour’s walk from here. Xander had never dared approach it. A bath, a true bath with hot water, for the first time in three months? The thought was almost overwhelming. “I think,” Xander said, after a moment to collect himself. “Now that you have raised the prospect, Revered One, I will be able to think of little else.”