With a shaky hand, I gently marked out several crooked tally marks with elderberry juice on the molded wall of the shed to count the last day before the anticipated meeting. Maggots crawled on the small wooden bowl on the ground I had crushed them in nearby, hungrily feasting the rotted shells of the smashed acres of fruit.

"Why, hello,” I softly said to the shadows, shifting my steps across the tiny shed. Loudly, I cleared my throat. Back and forth, ignoring the creaking noise with each lopsided limp. Turned forward on my sore, blistered heels. Repeat in a small circle. “How…how are you? It's good to finally meet you all. I have been thinking about you a lot, and I think we will be able to know each other in no time. My name is---"

My fingertips were stained dark purple. I stopped mid pace, staring at the wall with my blurry vision.

"M-my name is...it’s…”

The guilt of my lies weighed heavily on me, and I could barely concentrate, knowing that morning was only a few hours away. Thunder rumbled as lightning slashed the sky above. As it poured heavily outside, puddles the size of sinkholes began swallowing the soggy ground. My breaths were shaky; I pressed a hand against the wall, ignoring the ringing in my ears. This particular week had been tough, being that only I was able to watch those in my true form, yet to be so close to them. From morning through night, although they could not see me, I could not help but go wherever they went, where their small trips often consisted of looting as many resources as they could from abandoned Red Mamba camps. It was then that I was able to understand and learn a little bit more about the boys; how they responded to the situations they found themselves in. Often I found myself smiling when they laughed and joked with each other. A deep stinging, burning sensation settled in my throat as I stared at the grass, anticipating our first conversation over and over again. In the midst of my shame and filth, the possibility of friendship was still there, glittering like gold, just barely out of my reach. And soon, in a few days, I would be able to freely approach them as a man, not a monster.

I just had to be patient.

Only a few previous days ago in the cornfields, I had spotted George hauling up the baskets I had gathered and placed at the edge of the line into a small wagon in the cornfields one early afternoon. He released a heavy grunt, straining and struggling a bit, and placed another one top. Suddenly, he turned around to look at me, startled, dropping it. I faintly smiled at him, but he did not return it. It was very rare for him to come by; I had been quietly studying him from the shed, sitting on the crooked steps. My hair was up in a bun and I wore somewhat cleaner clothes; yet my unscarred, sweaty face was visible in the shallow light for him to see. A petrified expression fell on his face as I slowly took a step towards him. Before I could offer to help, he immediately hurried away, the wheels of the wagon squeaking loudly and leaving two fine lines in the ground, next to the spilled corncobs in the grass.

The memory made my chest ache, but I released a shaky breath, reminding myself that Milo was nothing like the person he or the others would see. I then promised myself to never fail them. When I smeared the remains of the last slimy elderberry I had to create the final line on the wall with my index finger, I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against its rough surface.

* * * * * * *

The scent of dew and grass was stronger than ever. Ladybugs crawled on the cornstalks. The walking stick was clenched tightly in my hand, fibrous splinters digging further into my palms. It struck me as unusual to see the village in a quiet, vegetative state for the ones sleeping in their tents, as not even those, who I had seen to religiously tend to the fields, were not even up yet. I then slowed down into a walk, limping slowly to use my walking stick to support myself. When I spotted George's home I stopped for a while, before sitting down on the ground under a nearby tree, still shaking, shivering, although I wasn't cold. I began to bite my dirty nails and pick at the dead skin surrounding them, but soon caught myself, forcing myself to rest my palms on my lap and take deep, quick breaths. The birds chirping in the air only caused a dull headache to slowly form.

I must had begun to doze off, because the next thing I knew, I saw a pair of muddy, worn shoes, and then a shadow. The sky was a bit brighter. When I looked up, George was peering down at me with great surprise and curiosity. He was balancing two large pails on his shoulders. Before he could say anything I quickly sprung to my feet, but due to my legs being half asleep, I lost my balance and accidentally bumped into him. The warm liquid sloshed all over, drenching us both to the bone. He looked down at large puddle of milk spreading all over the bumpy, uneven rocky ground. I was rooted to the ground, frozen, trying to find my words. Days of rehearsing what I planned to say instantly melted away.

"I...I am so sorry---"

"Milo!" George exclaimed, once realization fell on his face. He stuck out his hand for me to shake as he smiled, not even looking at the mess I had made. "You are here!”

"But.....but...but what about---"

The man made a sputtering noise with his lips. "Don't worry about that! It was just an accident. I can always go back to get more later." Excitement settled in his large blue eyes. "How long have you been out here? I'm surprised you remembered the way; I was about to go to the woods and fetch you there." He tapped the side of his head. "A good memory is very important. I hope you didn't have to wait for too long in this rain, you know."

"No...I..." I softly replied, his words touching me. Slowly, I bent down and picked up the buckets. "Not at all. I'm...I'm dreadfully sorry about this. I shouldn't have come so early and--"

"Nonsense," George interrupted again. "Stop worrying about these things. The others should be here soon, they're just lazy. Say, are you hungry? Why don't you come in and have a meal in the meantime? My wife had already prepared something. Or if you need food for the next couple of days, all you have to do is let either of us know. We'd be happy to supply you." He glanced up at the gray, soupy sky and squinted his eyes. "And it's probably about to storm in a minute, I'm sure."

Before I could respond, I could make out a few figures heading towards us. Ki was laughing with Covey, his face red, but immediately stopped once his eyes fell on me. His comrade did the same thing, and as both men stared at me with surprise and curiosity, I kept my gaze on the ground, awkwardly drumming my fingers against my walking stick. Strands of my filthy hair hung down my waist, peeking under the hood I wore on my head. George grinned and headed towards them, calling out their names as I dug my right bare foot in the mud. When I mustered up enough bravery to glance up at them, they had finally reached me, the bright colored robes of their clothes blowing in the wind. The dots of clay on their noses and thin, sunken cheekbones was a ghastly white; I saw how the younger man elbowed his comrade and pointed at me, leaning back. Their quiet voices were barely out of earshot.

“He looks like he eats birds and squirrels and cats raw. Humans too.”

Covey released a heavy sigh. ”Shut up, Ki.”

“You can’t even tell if he’s watching you or not. How can even see where he is going? He has so much hair he’s practically drowning in it.” He slightly grinned, although I could see he was shaking. “Maybe he’s planning for his next meal. I wouldn’t be surprised if he collects the bones of his victims and eats them for his supper. First he eats the brains. Then—” He made a wet slurping noise with his lips. “He swallows their eyes whole for breakfast. Finally the heart. But only for breakfast, because that’s how he gets his protein in. That’s why he’s so tall, right? That has to be it.”

“I said shut—”

“You must be careful not to make him angry. Otherwise, we may be his next victims. He’s even taller than you, I’m sure he could tear us to shreds in less than a minute if he wanted to.” His voice trailed off into a low whisper. “Look at his hands, they’re huge! Humongous. He looks like he could destroy the three of us combined. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to order us around because of his sheer height alone. You think you could take him? He can easily lift you up in the air.”

When Covey flinched, I looked down, grateful they could not see my flushing red face. Although I was used to people being afraid of me, it still stung beyond what I thought possible. But I desperately wanted to show them that I was just a man.

"Boys," George announced. "This is Milo." He turned to me, making a gesture with his arm. "Milo; Ki and Covey. Come on, now, Milo, get up here. I want to introduce them to you.”

As I slowly made my way closer, I saw how Covey paid attention to the way that I was hobbling, staring at my muddy, bruised bare feet. He slightly bit his lower lip and rubbed his chin with his hand, as in deep thought.

”Hello,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I struggled to remember the greetings I had spent days practicing. “I grateful to have the opportunity to meet and work with you both. I cannot thank you enough.” When I offered my dirty hand, none of them took it.

“Why does he talk so funny?” Ki hissed to Covey, but the other man continued to glare at me, ignoring his question. As I slowly lowered my arm, a wave of devastation came over me.

”These men are considered to be a part of my family, Milo,” George proudly announced. “Along with Fritz, I couldn’t have done much without them. I am sure that you wouldn’t mind becoming acquainted with them as all.” He said the last sentence in a stern voice. “Right, boys?”

“I do,” Ki whispered under his breath, fighting back a smile as he nudged Covey. He wrinkled his nose and snorted. “A bar of soap is another thing he should consider being acquainted with—”

Covey stomped hard on his foot with the heel of his boot, causing Ki to grit his teeth in pain and release a muffled squeak. George loudly cleared his throat, giving him a side glance as he lightly patted my shoulder. “What we meant to say is that we are grateful for your assistance. Any means of repayment for your time, I will be happy to offer. Whatever you like. Food, clothing.”

“That’s not necessary,” I softly said.

Ki tilted his head to the side, pretending to stand upright to ignore his throbbing toes. “Could you say that again? You know, necessary?”

I swallowed hard. “Necessary.”

He burst out laughing. “You pronounce your words so strangely. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that before. I take it this isn’t your first language?” A mischievous gleam fell on his face as he squinted up at me. “You’re the tallest person I have ever seen; what do they put in the food in the place you come from to make you grow like that? You look like a bean pole.”

George placed a hand over his forehead, shaking his head. “What I was saying—”

"My real name is Ki'luwani," Ki awkwardly interrupted. "But everyone calls me Ki for short because nobody can ever say my name properly. Not even at home. Can you believe it? But I think your name is very interesting as well.” He firmly stuck out a skinny arm. “I really like the way you talk.”

A deep smile fell on my lips as I studied the young man, who already appeared a bit guilty from his earlier remarks. I really hoped that we were going to be good friends. Slowly, I held out my hand once more, which he eagerly accepted. "It's nice to meet you, Ki."

”How old are you?” he asked.

It took me a while to reply. “I’ll be twenty four in the spring.”

“So am I.”

”No,” George snapped. “You’re nineteen.”

As we shook, I felt Covey's intense gaze on me, making another wave of anxiety rise up. Avoiding eye contact with him, I stepped forward. When I offered him my hand again as well, he seemed to hesitate after seeing my dirty long fingernails, but after a moment, he reached for it. He was a short, muscular guy, and I noticed the many scars that lined his arm. His mouth was set in a hard, stern line. He kept trying to get a peek at my face under the cloak and the massive tangled curtain of hair I profusely was sweating behind.

"Why are you wearing all of that?" he asked.

The question made my heart skip a beat, and my palms were suddenly all clammy.

George shot him an annoyed look. "You know, it's not very nice to ask people things like that. Why are you both so rude?”

"No, it's okay...I understand. I would want to know to. I-I was in a bad accident a few years back," I lied, my voice barely audible. "I-I have these burns all over my face, and people don't take too well to them. I prefer to cover them up...so...so I don't frighten anyone."

Covey adjusted the bow and arrows he carried, nodding. "I understand. You are one of many who bear permanent marks from our time in the security ward. But we wear our scars with pride and dignity, so know that there is nothing to be ashamed of here. I heard that you are a Selva native. Your accent is a unique one, and I had never heard anyone from that place speak the way you do. I spent a couple of years there myself, before all of this. Were you born there and moved later? You mostly sound like you're from the east coast to me. Mainly from Nivea or Tai, perhaps."

"I....I..." I tried to get the words out. "I--"

George rolled his eyes. "For goodness' sake, relax. You just met the man not even a minute ago and you're bombarding him with all these questions like you're in the middle of an interrogation with him. He's shy enough as it is, and you've been nothing but impolite to him. I don't think that's a good idea for someone who may be able to really help us."

"Yeah," Ki interjected, slightly shoving him to the side. He grinned at me. "Ah, don’t listen to him. Covey's always been that kind of person. He's too curious sometimes, and it can be super annoying."

Covey's face became a bright pink shade. "You have the nerve to talk about being annoying? I don't intend to come off that way. I just think that it's very odd that---"

”I got them! I got the tubes!”

We all turned towards the sound of Fritz's voice.

He rushed down a small hill, waving at us, carrying several rifles that were carefully strapped to his back. The robe and cloak he wore blew in the wind. His face was red, sweaty from running. Several loosely wrapped bandoliers hung from his left shoulder blade. When everyone began to rush towards him, I hung back behind them, before slowly limping forward, keeping my head low. Due to the excited chatter and the extreme drowning out of words, they were eagerly studying the weapons they had grabbed, showing them to one another. Fritz brightened up once he spotted me, pushing his way through the small crowd. He was breathless, sweaty, holding out a rifle to me. And that was when the loud chatter ceased and all eyes fell on me.

"Well, Milo?" George asked, grinning broadly. "Do you think you could give us a few lessons?”

Very gently, I took the firearm out of Fritz's hands. It was an M-4 carbine, and in relatively good condition. I saw the light in these boys' faces, the trust and faith in me that I knew I did not deserve. And although they could not see it, I smiled at them.

* * * * * * * *

Waking up in the mornings had more meaning to me. My times in the cornfields were bearable, and I hardly got any work done because I could hardly stop thinking about the interactions. Although George continued to offer me cleaner clothing, I always turned it down, unwilling to ruin the disguise that had granted me such access.

For the first few days, I made sure that each man practiced in an empty field a great distance from each other. After explaining to them that stray bullets could cause harm to the villagers, they then agreed to go with me. The way they held the weapons the wrong way caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. And the moment I spotted Ki was peering down with the barrel of the rifle directly in his face and his hand around the trigger, that was when I decided to double check, triple check that not a single one of them was loaded and neither one could accidently blow their brains out.

Despite the confused looks on their faces from my obvious panic, I tried to set an example and present a better teaching method, holding it up the correct way. And for the next couple of weeks, I focused on form and positioning alone. For now, I just wanted them to familiarize themselves with holding the rifle, to get a feel for it. I adjusted and corrected their arms, their hands, the angle and to focus on where they wanted their shot to go. Little by little, they improved. Suddenly seeing them standing in a row with me in front of me in the dried grass---I got flashbacks from the recruitment camp, being with the other trainees all those years ago. I tried to push them away, out of my head, but they made a pit settle at the bottom of my stomach.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

During one hot evening, I placed several rusted cans I had found at the edge od a stream on a broken down fence. After laying on the ground in the grass with my stomach, I fired at a large piece of tree bark I had set up, knocking it off to the ground. The blast made Fritz slightly jump. The wooden planks were spaced out, and as I approached each man and handed them a bullet, the men began to murmur and quietly chuckle amongst themselves. Covey was the only one who remained quiet and focused, though he was intensely focused on loading his weapon perfectly, smoothly.

"Are you sure about this?" George asked, squinting his eyes as he glanced at the metal can. "I can't hit that far, and you know it. This is ridiculous."

"Yeah," Fritz complained, swatting away a fly. When he finally managed to eliminate the creature, he glanced at its smashed remains on his hand with disgust, rubbing at his shirt. "Can't we come a bit closer to our targets at least? I think that I might have a better chance then.”

“In reality, you won’t be given a chance,” I explained. “Things are far more fast paced; it’s important to be prepared no matter how far you are, what angle, what distance. It just takes practice.”

“Damn it,” George murmured.

Ki wiped the sweat off his forehead and laughed. "Oh boy. You're finally letting us use the real stuff now. You think we are ready?"

I clasped my hands behind my back and moved to the side, extending my arm out towards to the cans. “Absolutely. You don't know if you don't try. You remember the positions?” I held out four fingers. “Prone, standing, sitting, and kneeling. You simply can't come closer. What if your target is armed as well? It's important to be able to do make long shots, over a half a mile, a mile even, before any soldiers have the opportunity to come closer to you, let alone see you. And you always need to have the upper hand. I only want to see what your aim is like now."

A loud chorus of their groans filled my ears.

”But we’ve been out here for hours!”

”I’m starving.”

”It’s too hot, let’s go back.”

I sheepishly grinned. "I don’t expect perfection. Try it. For me, please? Look, I’m…I’m right here to help if you need it.”

Fritz rolled his eyes, but the others had already begun the first position, transitioning to the second. Empty bullet shells soon littered the ground, although George loudly hooted when he managed to nick the side of a can. Covey, on the other hand, got his off with a series of clean shots and knocked over several cans in a row, leaving his targets smoking and split in two pieces after pulling back the operating rod. Concentration was on his face. The minute he cleared his weapon, I saw how posed and relaxed his hands were---no doubt his skill with his bow and arrow had made its way through. As he lowered the assault rifle from the front of his shoulder, he suddenly stopped to turn at everyone, who was staring at him in awe.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"That was amazing!" Ki exclaimed. “I haven’t even gotten my first decent shot in.”

"Show off," Fritz muttered, glaring at the bullet holes that littered his post.

George placed his hands on his hips. "I guess we all could learn a bit from you as well, eh, Covey? As soon as I get the hang of this, I'm definitely having you on the front lines with me when we do our next mission."

A small grin fell on Covey’s face as they began to eagerly compliment him, forming a small group around him. Slowly, I leaned against the wooden post and stared at the fallen cans. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him smile since he usually had such a serious demeanor, and I wanted to let him know how much he had improved. But there was something odd in his eyes whenever he glanced at me, like he was trying to see through towards my rotten, sagging soul.

* * * * * * *

For the first time in my life, my insomnia proved to be somewhat of good use to me.

I spent hours at night doing as much research as possible about Navu. An estimated fifteen hundred security ward units holding prisoners were located in that city. The number alone was enough made me wonder where I would find so many supplies for such a large amount of people. I knew that the boys were planning a night ambush in the next couple of days; but they were far more unprepared than they realized. And when they invited me to join, I made up an awkward excuse, already scrambling in my mind for a solution that would prevent them from getting captured, or what I truly feared, a far worse fate.

The melted wax from the candle I had spilled on the scratched surface of the broken table in my shed and caused the frayed paper to stick onto it like glue, only irritating me further. I soon realized another major issue: Navu was big. Huge. Much bigger than Flanders and Selva put together as a whole, and I knew that the approach I had relied on before was unlikely to succeed, where they clearly would be outnumbered to the amount of soldiers guarding the territory. Due to their inexperience, they would be wiped out, but there was no way I could explain such a thing to them. There were many things that they did not understand, and I could only helplessly watch them from a distance, beads of sweat pouring down my face.

During the evening, when they slipped out of the village towards Navu, I took pursuit after them.

* * * * * * *

My breathing became more strangled.

In order to distract myself from the painful sensation in my head, I listened to the sound of frost slowly crawling over the vegetation that surrounded me, covering everything in a thick cold powder. Letting the plan I had been coming up for several nights finally come together, I began to let the energy in my body guide and control me. As the air suddenly became frigid, I stepped forward, ignoring the vibrations shooting through what remained of the grass. An explosion of fine ice crystals spread outwards from my bare foot and grew like weeds reaching to touch the sky. I licked the blood smeared across my nose and chin. The trees that had sheltered me shriveled and died; their wooden trunks sagged over like lifeless carcasses. Their water belonged to me, connected to my body, mind, and soul. This strange wave of energy took over my logic, further feeding the fire that settled deep into my belly.

The soldiers' shoes echoed across the cracked pavement, a direct contrast to the silent trod of the prisoners' bloodied ones as they were herded like cattle into long separate lines. Dogs barked and whined; cigarette ashes were flung from the gnarled, blackened fingers of men. And for the first time in a while, I was able to glance up into the faces of others and garner no sort of reaction due to the state of both civilian and Khonie.

In the midst of the pouring rain, I managed to pull myself up over the broken, splintered roof tiles of the sagging buildings. The blood began to travel down my elbows, my cheeks, the edge of my nose, mixing with my own. I could sense the attraction of the water in the atmosphere gravitate heavily towards me, my soul. The energy circulating around me was so heavy it made it nearly impossible for me to breathe, and the taste of blood, which had always been bitter and metallic to me at that point, was heavenly, sweeter than the finest wine. More savory than how Lockwell’s had been in my mouth. There was a burning fire inside of me, one that water could never quench or satisfy. The tendrils wrapped around my arms and protruded into the air.

Sharp ice shards formed from the rain, causing some people to scream below and and duck for cover. Using my left fingers, I directed them to every single person that I could spot in a gray camaflouged uniform. When I jumped down and landed on the street, crouched on my knees, several giant cracks spread across the pavement, erupting underground pipes and causing cars to fall in. Large jagged chunks of concrete piled up around those scrambling and abandoning their vehicles. I sensed the great pressure in my head due to the heavy streams of ice shooting from the middle of my palms. Thousands of icicles lined my path as I slowly made my way through the city, watching the small dots of people flee.

I adjusted myself to the blinding pressure in my head, blood dripping down my chin.

The metal gates at the entrance of the city flew off its hinges, crumpled and torn like paper as ice and snow crawled and spread across the buildings. What had once been the faces of male and female soldiers were now frozen statues around me, their limbs and joints permanently stuck in place.

The Navuian civilians who had gathered in line for water screamed, running, watching their glorious streets topple on the ground into endless pieces. A thick layer of smoke and a fine mist of dust clouded the air as my bare feet landed on the ground, causing a giant crack to shoot across the earth, flipping over several cars that exploded in a fire blast. The flames flowed in my eyes, blood dripping from my fingers and forehead. I directed my hand at a Red Mamba tank with my water tendrils, throwing it at a cluster of soldiers who were ducking for cover. Gasoline spilled on the ground, followed by a fiery wall that settled on its crooked path.

Severed decapitated heads and limbs rained around me, some landing on the hoods of cars and vehicles, shattering their windshields. The clear circles of water in the air floated above. Pressure gathered in my skull; I tensed my hands as they formed into ice shards. They slid down, impaling a few more soldiers in the neck who were struggling to reload. Their blood splattered on the ground, leaving behind a lovely crimson pattern. My tendrils shot out into the air as I leaped over several bodies of soldiers and rubble, trying to avoid the peppering shots of the machine guns aimed at me. The voices and screams were mixed in with chaos, and I could already see that the captured Khonie, along with George and Milo, were making a break for it. I knew I needed to follow them immediately.

I landed on the top of a building, bending down on both knees and creating a wave of ice with both hands. The bright orange explosions rang in my ears as I slid and rolled over, my fingers digging against the edge of the surface as I held on with my left hand. Shards of frozen water flew in the air as I managed to keep generating a funnel of white wind around the boys, who I could just barely make out in the smoke and dust.

It began to snow harder as I leaped off, slamming against the ground, feeling the energy wash over me as the bricks and the asphalt of the street lifted up as clear chunks of ice started to circle around me. The earth around me began to sink. Human intestines splattered on the ground, on the windshields of the smashed car, and I held both hands out as the ice coated everything in white, stopping the soldier's movements forever. Icicles clung to their uniforms, their polished boots as their cries and desperate orders to retreat faded.

Suddenly, a thick silence filled the air.

Ignoring the growing pain in my leg, I kept sprinting through the smoke, praying the distraction would give me enough time to reach the boys. Alongside the newly freed prisoners, the boys were shouting, paranoid, wandering around the now frozen, the stiff bodies of the soldiers. They gazed at the seven mile gash I had made in the street. They stared at the ruined tents and buildings, the destroyed containers of water, the torn city, the shredded flag of the snake. I saw it. It was split in two halfway; the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

* * * * * * * *

The sound of dogs barking in the distance filled the air.

Dirt clung to my blood soaked body as I crawled through the bushes and the cornfields, the sharp leaves brushing against my skin. A trail of blood poured from the gunshot wound on my leg. Biting down on my tongue to hold back the pain, I slid down a hill and crawled down beneath the roots of a decaying tree, moving back against the very bottom and leaning my back against it. In the distance, the warm orange glow of the flames rose above in the distance. Through the leaves, tried as I might, I couldn't see where the new prisoners or the boys had fled towards. I doubted that returning to the village would be a good idea at the moment; although I needed to at least see that they were heading there. My head was throbbing, and all the energy I had was spent, but I fought for conciousness as I slowly stood up. The world spun for a moment, making a deep wave of nausea settle in my stomach. The urge to vomit suddenly overwhelmed me, and I knew I had gone over my limit again.

Footsteps crunched against the dead leaves.

I scrambled a bit faster, and pressed a bloodied palm against the tree trunk, trying to control my weak breaths. A large snow trail had followed me across the field, and I dove behind a bush, lingering in the darkness. And despite how limited my vision was, I could just make out George’s shadow on the ground, following the cursed glowing blue surrounding me. Somehow, I was relieved to catch a glimpse of him—if he was nearby, then the others couldn’t be so far. His face was full of panic, his eyes wide with terror.

And it destroyed me to see him in this state.

The man stumbled backwards, then, after a moment, he slowly reached out and picked up an ice shard, examining it. When he stared at the pitch darkness in front of him, his eyes slowly narrowed. He immediately raised his knife, his grip tightening on the handle, clenching his jaw. Only the sound of crickets filled the air, before he finally managed to utter a few words.

"What…are you?”

I remained under the cloak of darkness.

“Why are you doing this?”

A long silence passed between us. He released a dejected sigh and tossed the knife to the ground. Its blade sank into the moist soil.

"I know you're there. Ever since I’ve seen this, I know you’re watching. I don't know what you may be, but I know you're something. And you're here. I feel it. Show yourself already. What do you want from us, anyways? Why do you keep following us?"

I stared at the ground, blood and warm salt water leaking out of my eyes, my face.

He pointed his finger at the darkness in front of him. “I don’t know what you intend to do with us, but if you ever come against us or harm any of my friends, I’ll do my best to protect them.” A dark red shade settled on his nose. “I know what you’re capable of. I see it, alright? What you just did back there. You’re trying to prove something to me. I’ll fight you if you ever decide to do this to us or try to intimidate us. You’ll have to kill me. Because you have an ulterior motive, don’t you? You must. Otherwise, why won’t you leave us alone? You want something in return, but I’ll never negotiate with you. And I’ll never submit to your control. You think you can trick us, you are wrong. If I ever see you in person, I’ll shoot you dead. I’ll kill you.”

The last few words came out in a scream. On the trees, the frost appeared like glorious diamonds. My insides were breaking with each word that fell from his mouth.

"Answer me. You were in my head so much before, and now you remain silent? Make up your mind already. Either you show yourself or leave us alone. Show yourself,” George screamed, his voice echoing in the cold air. "Who are you?“

An icicle snapped in half and fell to the ground, startling him. As the tree in front of him began to wilt due to large amount of ice coating its surface, the snowy winds began to pick up. After a few minutes, he finally took a few steps back, his heavy breaths visible in the air, before running off into the dull shadows cast by the bright moon.

When I limped to my shed a few hours later, I stripped off my clothing, blindly stumbling through the cornstalks towards a small stream. Once I was halfway submerged in the cold, I began to furiously scrub at my skin until it was blistering red and my arms were stinging sore. I waited until the wretched blue glow in my hands faded away until I was left with nothing.

* * * * * * *

The next morning, when I finally reached the busy village, Ki rushed toward me. The others were gathered around a small fireplace, cooking a large rabbit. “Milo, where were you last night? You missed it. You missed everything! There…there was a huge snow storm, and…and blue light! And people around us were frozen stiff.” His eyes were bulged. “Like statues!”

I kept my head low. Covey raised a brow, but said nothing.

“It’s for the best that you didn’t come, Milo,” George murmured. “There is an intruder in our midst. No, a demon. One that I would hate for you to encounter. You should consider yourself lucky you never had the opportunity to be around it. It may strike us first. But if we prepare ourselves, we may be able to slaughter it in its tracks.” His eyes brightened up. “I will protect you all from it.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Fritz stood up and released a heavy sigh. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he tossed a piece of straw he had been chewing into the weak flames. “We just finished counting the amount of new prisoners rescued here. There are over three hundred. Not only does this drastically increase the population of the people, but how will we manage with food alone? I’ve been suggesting to go back to Navu and look for resources there, but it’s—“

”It’s too dangerous,” George snapped. He didn’t look like he had gotten enough rest either, with his eyes all bloodshot. With one swift motion, he stabbed his machete deep into the ground. “The damn place is in ruins; there’s too many soldiers there. And that…that thing—” When he gazed at me, his voice cracked. “Something’s following us, Milo. A spirit that can create ice and snow. It went wild and slaughtered everyone and everything around except for us. If we go back there, it’ll most likely be waiting for us.”

“So what the hell are we supposed to do now?”exploded Fritz. His face was red with indignation. “Let the others starve? We barely have enough food as it is. I say we go back. I’m not afraid of any spirit. I’m—“

”No one is leaving this village unless I say so.” George’s voice thundered in the air. “Over my dead body will I let the spirit harm either of you. We need to wait a while. And that’s final. It’s not safe. We’ll harvest what we have in the meantime, and hunt at night to provide for the new survivors.”

Fritz gave him a hard look, his fists balled up. As he stormed off, George sighed and weakly called his name, following. Ki shrugged and followed the two men. I could hardly speak, because I knew that I had ruined everything yet again, and in the worst way possible. I had made a bigger mess, and the guilt was crushing me, twisting my insides. As I slowly sat down on a log, my throat was so thick it was hard to swallow.

Covey remained by the fire, pulling the roasted rabbit off the flames with a stick. Clear lines of distress settled on his face. Smoke rose from the animal carcass he gnawed on. After a moment of hesitation, my sentence came out in a hoarse whisper.

”I can help.”

Covey stared at the food in his hand.

“I…I can get them what they need.”

Silence.

“I-if you wish. It’s okay if you don’t prefer to. But…if you are ever lacking, just let me know. And the next time, when you decide…or feel comfortable enough to leave the village, I would be more than happy to assist the others as well. You only have to ask me.”

The man glanced at me, but said nothing, eating slowly. Though I could tell he was nervous around me, he seemed to be listening, although clearly uneasy in my presence.

“Give me a list of what supplies you believe they need the most at the moment, and I’ll have it ready for you as soon as possible.” I spoke a little bit louder. “Make sure to run this by George and Fritz first, to see what they say. But.. you need not worry. I promise, you do not have to be afraid. You…you can trust me. You have my word, my friend.”

My friend.

This time, Covey was staring at me intently. Something wet trickled down my left cheek and rolled down the tip of my nose.

”You think you can do that for me, buddy?” I whispered. “Just let me know.”

He nodded, his eyes wide as saucers, although he was glued to the spot. Figuring that he was spooked out already by the unexpected offer, I decided to give him some space. As I began to stand up, a familiar burst of pain shot up from the wound in my leg I had attempted to take care of. I winced, before wrapping my hand around my walking stick. Before I could make my way out, he finally spoke, rapidly shaking his head.

“Hold on a minute.”

I turned to face him, my cloak slightly blowing in the hot wind. The man began to yank off his boots, rapidly undoing the laces. Confused, I watched him pick them up and walked over to me, handing them out. Unsure how to react, I just stood there. He grunted and made another gesture with his arm, glancing at my bare feet.

“Here.”

“But—“

”I have a pair of moccasins at my tent; I’ll be fine. You need these far more than me; they seem like they can fit you. I don’t know how you are able to step over gravel and rocks like you do.” Covey roughly shoved the boots in my arms. “Looks like you’ve traveled a thousand miles on glass shards. It’s impossible to be comfortable walking around like that. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten an infection already.”

“Thank you,” I softly said.

He didn’t say anything else, just slipped off into the crowds of people swarming down the road. The knotted laces loosely dangled from my hands.