Kaara remembered when she first got to know Rorik about five years ago. He had showed up in camp on his own. He had lived a normal life in his village with the rest of his family. Destined to live a decent life of peace. One of his parents was a former Tibur who had exited the clan to start their family somewhere safe.

However, Malaki never forget who hunted them. It started small and silent, digging their tendrils into the underbelly of the town and decaying it from within as it grew its power. By the time his Tibur mother had figured out the infestation it was already too late. The town had been under siege for weeks, and in that time the Malaki had grown too powerful.

Kaara still remembered the day from her perspective. She could see the town in the distance as they set up camp on the hillsides nearby.

More people would have died if it wasn’t for the sacrifice Rorik’s parents made. Even so, his village had been utterly destroyed, and those who did survive were forever scarred by the memory of that monster.

They took the villagers in as refugees. It was common practice for them to grant safe passage to xiozians who had lost their homes to Malaki.

Kaara never fully understood the effect she had on Rorik. All she had seen were his dead eyes. She saw the way he didn’t eat and heard how he cried in the night.

And so she offered him a friend. Someone to share his burden and tell him things would be alright in the end. When it came time for the refugees to leave camp, Rorik stayed behind. With conviction in his step and hope in his eye, he became a Tibur just like his mother.

Kaara always wondered what had given him the courage to become a Tibur after what he had seen. The adults wondered too. Most thought that it was his way of thanking his mother for her sacrifice. Perhaps he wanted to prevent others from seeing his fate. It could have also been the case that the blood of a true Tibur ran through his veins and fate had its way of steering him towards his purpose.

Those were far too deep for a six year old, though. Kaara knew the real reason.

He didn’t want to be alone when he left their camp. He was afraid at that moment. And so, the Tibur camp gave him a new family. And through Kaara, he gained many friends.

He didn’t share much about his past with anyone except her. Although Arik had stepped in to share his burden too.

Remembering that opened a deep pit of guilt in Kaara’s gut. Why would she ever feel bad that he had learned to stand on his own without her?

Maybe it was because she knew he had clearly broken his legs in the process.

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She watched the two of them clash one final time.

Rorik slumped down to his knees in defeat as Anitus stood over him.

“Pathetic. You were easier than last time. Seems I gained more strength than you did these past months. But your performance was still impressive… for a Tibur. Raktus is the weakest of us, and Arik is clearly the strongest of you. Do you understand your place now, cur? No matter how hard you train, you’re always going to be beneath me. That’s the difference in talent that your hard work will never fix. Even Raktus has far surpassed you by now as an earth user. Your growth is just too slow to keep up with us, so accept that and move on. You’ll still be a fine hunter in the end.”

Kaara knew better. Rorik always pushed himself too hard. He never gave himself any rest. Always grinding himself down to the nub no matter how many people tried to stop him. He had built his body up, but it had come at the expense of everything else. His body might heal quickly, but his mind and soul were constantly under pressure and strain.

Rorik punched the ground in frustration, “Again! Let me challenge you again!”

Anitus spat on the ground next to him, “Two losses is more than enough to prove to me you’re undeserving of another challenge. You had every advantage in our fight. The snow weakened my magic, and the mud beneath our feet was more than enough for you to utilize. Your element is a natural counter to mine, and yet you still lost so pathetically. There won’t be a different outcome on the third or even the hundredth attempt. You’re born to be a journeyman and nothing more, so deal with it.”

Rorik cradled into a ball squeezing the snow beneath his hands and choking back his tears. Kaara saw his chest expand as he sucked in air and let it out in a shuddering breath.

Kaara wanted to step in. She wanted to challenge Anitus to a fight and beat him, but was it her place to fight Rorik’s battles for him?

What could she do? Kaara’s mind was racing.

Even if she did win, it wouldn’t make this defeat sting any less for Rorik. If anything it would insult him more and dig him deeper into his bad habits.

If she tried to console him, he would only push her away. Not to mention, if that happened she would never be able to tell him about her curse. He might even end up blaming her for what happened to his parents. Future possibilities swarmed in her head. If she decided to only trust Arik with the knowledge of her curse, that would only deepen his inferiority complex.

She could see Rorik running himself into the ground in an effort to keep up. All because he didn’t want to be useless. All because he didn’t want to be alone. But why couldn’t he understand that he didn’t need to be strong and protect her all the time to be her friend? She had seen him grow up alongside her. He was stronger than she was, but only when he allowed himself the time to heal. If only Kaara understood why he pushed himself so far all the time. Maybe she could help him.

She stood there, frozen in place as her best friend weeped in front of her. She remembered her dream. She remembered that emaciated figure crying to themselves. No matter how close she tried to get, or how much she wanted to help, it didn’t matter. The more she pulled him close the more he would push her away.

Until they were both alone.

Amaro stepped forward, standing between Rorik and Anitus, “You wanted a fight with me, Anitus?” His eyes were serious, the smell of ozone in the air, “I think it’s time I teach you a lesson.”