D’Argen felt the light of the sun hit his face. He stopped walking and turned to it with closed eyes. It was not that warm, but the light was welcome. The shuffling in front of him slowed and then stopped. Thar did not say anything and just waited for him.

The two had been walking for two days and nights already. Each day, D’Argen stopped to feel the sun from between the trees. Sometimes, it was only for a moment like now. Yesterday, it had been for a solid hour at least.

“I’m tired,” D’Argen groaned out and shifted. Abbot was sprawled across his back and the artist’s weight was only making D’Argen complain more than usual.

Thar was carrying both Yaling and Lilian. D’Argen would have loved to have his sight back to see how exactly the man carried his other two companions. He could imagine one swung across each of his shoulders like sacks of potatoes, but he also knew that Thar was more considerate than that. Unfortunately, he could still see nothing but white blurs. In order to stop himself from getting confused, D’Argen had used one of the strips of cloth from under his bracers and wrapped it over his eyes.

“Are were there yet?” D’Argen groaned when Thar said nothing about his earlier complaint.

“Soon.”

“How do you know?”

“The air is getting thinner.”

“Isn’t that… bad?”

Thar did not respond.

“You know, now that I can’t see you, I can’t tell what face you’re making, and you’ll have to talk to me.”

Thar harrumphed in response, but when he spoke, it sounded like he had a smile on his face, “Do I now?”

“Oh, shut up,” D’Argen groaned with a smile of his own.

“How are your eyes?”

D’Argen reached with a thumb and lifted the edge of his makeshift blindfold. It was bright. And blurry. He dropped it.

“No good,” he said to confirm even though Thar must have come to the same conclusion. Having working eyes and all.

“And you? How are you?”

“Tired. I already said so. In fact… can we take a break?”

Thar hummed. D’Argen had no idea if that was in agreement or not. He waited.

“I think night will fall again soon.”

D’Argen stiffened and nodded. Thar was obviously tired as well, his mahee barely sliding around for D’Argen to touch it. The previous night, he had used too much to keep them all safe as the demons returned. D’Argen was only getting in the way so he had stayed back to protect their still unconscious companions. When Thar told him to run, he grabbed Abbot and did not stop.

“You better be getting better soon. I can’t keep going like this for much longer,” D’Argen said. He shifted, adjusted Abbot on his back, groaned, and then started walking again. With his mahee so depleted, D’Argen could not use it to help strengthen his body and remove the fatigue from his muscles. Instead, he used every single strain of it to keep his feet steady so he would not trip or slip.

The incline started getting steeper. D’Argen felt his mahee churn to try and compensate for every step.

“Wait,” Thar suddenly said and D’Argen froze mid-step. Abbot’s weight on his back threw him a bit off balance but he compensated with his mahee. “Nevermind, go on.”

“What was it?” D’Argen asked quietly.

“I thought I heard something.”

“Which reminds me. We haven’t heard any of the screams all day today.”

Thar hummed and D’Argen took the sound to mean agreement.

“Maybe your theory was right. Higher up and there are less… umm… no…”

“Fewer?”

“Yea, yea. Higher up and there are fewer of the… is it really demons though? Lilian seemed very insistent on it not being demons. What was that they said before they ran off?”

Thar did not respond verbally. D’Argen rolled his blind eyes under their cover.

“Anyway. Whatever it is, once we have both rested properly and the others are awake, we will find out. Right?”

Thar hummed. D’Argen took it to mean agreement again.

“So… how come whatever caused these ones to pass out has not affected us?” D’Argen asked instead. It felt like a much calmer day and he could finally focus on the things that did not make sense to him. Lilian, Yaling, and Abbot had yet to wake up. Their mahee was churning softling inside but D’Argen could not tell if it was healing their bodies or keeping them unconscious. Thar had even less experience in the healing arts than D’Argen did.

Thar did not respond verbally again so D’Argen decided to sound his theories out loud.

“It’s probably something with your scent,” D’Argen started. His toe hit a rock but he caught his balance quickly. “Whatever scent the demons are using for their magic, your scent cleans it out.”

Thar shuffled somewhere further ahead of him.

“Yea, it has to be your scent. I mean, it’s getting weaker and weaker though, so I’m not completely sure. Plus… that burnt sugar from yesterday? I swear it’s been surrounding us since the foothills. Just… didn’t notice until you cleared it the other day. You know what I mean?”

“And you?” Thar asked and startled D’Argen.

“Oh? Me? I… I know what I mean. I mean… I don’t… know? What do you mean?”

“Why are you not affected?”

“I just—” D’Argen cut himself off and for once was hoping that the forest would scream to interrupt him. He had no answer. When the forest did not help him, he shrugged and adjusted Abbot on his back. “Is it just me or is it getting colder?” he asked instead, trying to change the subject.

Thar let out a sound that sounded like a mix between a snort and a laugh. The man then grunted. Ha. If he tripped for making fun of D’Argen, he deserved it.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Want to switch?” Thar finally asked.

D’Argen shifted Abbot on his back once more and tried to hold back the groan. He thought about how Thar was somehow carrying both Yaling and Lilian. Then thought about the uncomfortable weight of Abbot on his back.

“I’m good. How much longer?”

“We stop after nightfall. When the screams start up, we find a spot away from them,” Thar answered.

D’Argen nodded. Although he did not like to use his rank too much against others, he had gotten in the habit of it once it was bestowed upon him. At the time, Thar was of a higher rank than him. In the years since, D’Argen slowly got in the habit of taking charge. He was one of the very few of such a high rank that did not stay still in the Never Born cities, so it made sense that he met very few others of a higher rank than him outside.

Now, it only made sense to follow Thar’s orders instead of leading the other man as he had earlier around the mortals. Thar was not only the more experienced fighter between the two but he was also sighted. And he still had D’Argen’s sword.

They continued walking as the air got colder and the wind started touching them through the trees. D’Argen was sweating under his winter cloak and robes.

The first scream of the night sounded like a distant echo, the way they had sounded back at the beginning. Both of them stopped to listen and it faded away. After a long time of silence, another two joined in and they sounded even further.

Thar directed them to keep walking for a bit more. After almost an hour and the screams sounding further and further away Thar said, “This is good. Here.”

D’Argen dropped Abbot off his back so quickly that he was sure the artist would be covered in bruises. At least he was alive and with them. Thar placed Lilian and Yaling right beside Abbot and he sounded much more gentle about it. D’Argen sprawled out on the rocks and dirt and snow as if he was on a bed made of feathers.

Thar let out another one of those snorting laughs only for a quick breath. D’Argen heard where he was but his arms were too tired to flip him off.

“How much longer, do you think?” D’Argen asked.

“Tomorrow, probably. The air is already getting clearer.”

“Want to try to push through the night?”

Thar did not answer for a long time. D’Argen let the man think it over. He was a strategist. He knew how to fight. He also knew how limited the both of them were at the moment.

“If we get attacked, we run. No more fighting.”

D’Argen liked the sound of that. He was a runner, not a fighter. Especially since he was still not convinced that there really were demons on the mountain. And if his suspicions were right, he had to wonder what exactly was attacking them and whose blood D’Argen could still taste days later at the back of his throat.

“We have to report this to Acela,” D’Argen finally said. “Demons on here. If they are demons. Hey, she’ll probably agree to end your sentence early so you can lead the troops to clean up the mountain completely.”

“I…” Thar hesitated.

D’Argen lifted his head to face in his direction even though he could not see the other man. Thar was not the type of person to hesitate. When he was in charge, he was in charge and knew exactly what to do.

“You…? Thar?”

Thar hummed in response but said nothing else.

D’Argen dropped the subject and then his head back down. It was too cold but he was too tired to care.

When the wind started getting even colder, D’Argen asked, “Can we build a fire?”

The screams started up again shortly after Thar built up a small fire and they sounded much closer than earlier. D’Argen was carefully wrapping up their unconscious companions to keep them from getting cold in the night. Thar unsheathed D’Argen’s sword.

“Close?” D’Argen asked quietly.

“Hmm… sounds like it…” Thar’s voice trailed off slowly.

“Thar? What is it?”

“The fog… it has returned…”

“The fog? It…” D’Argen trailed off when the burnt sugar lodged in his throat.

Thar stumbled on something in the snow and dried branches broke under his feet. The following scream sounded so close that D’Argen flinched. But it was not just a scream. If his hand was not clutching at Lilian’s skirts tightly he could have sworn it was Lilian screaming into the wind.

“Thar?”

No answer.

D’Argen reached with blind hands until he touched Abbot and then Yaling. The whistle in the air sounded exactly like one of Yaling’s focused attacks. D’Argen had to hold her wooden whistle in a tight fist to keep himself from ducking down.

“It’s not real,” D’Argen said quietly. Only once the words were out though, did he register them. “It’s not… wait. Thar. Thar! The sound! The screaming! It’s not real!”

There was no response.

The roar that surrounded him, however, sounded way too real. D’Argen clutched at Yaling’s arm with a tight grip.

“Thar?” D’Argen asked into the cold. Thar had not made any sounds at all recently. Was he even still there? He also had D’Argen’s sword.

There was a heavy and warm breath right by his ear. D’Argen heard the sniffle and startled. He jumped back and there was another roar, right in his face. D’Argen reached for one of the daggers in his boots but large claws slashed at his hand. They scratched off his metal bracer with a screech that made his ears hurt. But the guard worked on protecting his arm.

D’Argen twisted in the snow until he could get up and run. Whatever it was, it was better it chased him than stand over the unconscious bodies of his companions. He was not sure if he was glad or mortified to hear heavy footsteps chasing after him. When they got too close, he ducked, slid, and let his mahee guide him around a tree. Only then did he realize that the clearing Thar had found for them was quite large. He forced his mahee open as wide as possible, waiting for the world behind his blindfold to fade away into white and grey blurs.

It did not.

His mahee, however, did guide him into jumping in the air and kicking off two trees before coming to a slide in the snow.

“D’Argen, this way!” Thar screamed from somewhere.

D’Argen got up. The creature rushed him again but he avoided it with ease. He was slow enough so when Thar grabbed his arm, it stopped him on his feet instead of swinging him around. Then Thar let go and stepped away. D’Argen heard metal sing through the cold air and then a yelp. He scented blood. A loud roar forced him on his knees and he clutched at his ears.

“Run!” Thar commanded.

D’Argen forced himself to stand up and run to where the others had been unconscious. His mahee still refused to listen to him. He rolled right on top of Abbot’s body, grabbing his arm as he did, and got up in a crouch with the man slung over his shoulders. One hand kept the artist's body from slipping off. D’Argen’s other arm was free so he blindly reached for Lilian and then picked them up. Lilian was so lithe that carrying them in a makeshift princess hold with one arm was easy, even if uncomfortable. Yaling, however, would have to wait for Thar.

Without looking back or waiting, D’Argen let his mahee soften his steps as he ran. He jumped, slid, and stepped through cracks that even with working eyes would slow most down.

When his mahee could no longer help him at all, he slid to a stop and dropped in the snow. It was so high that it covered his head when he finally stopped moving. He dropped both Lilian and Abbot in the trampled path he had created in the snow. Thar was not behind him.

D’Argen reached for his mahee and then immediately pulled back with a groan of pain. All he could do was wait.

The cold wind blew the snow about and he tried to take deep breaths. The air was too thin. Even with large inhales, his lungs felt cramped. When he shifted, his legs started twitching. Fortunately, the burnt sugar was gone along with the tingle at the back of his throat.

Thar was their best fighter. Thar was strong. He was so strong that the First Five had no choice but to banish him and lock his mahee down, as much as they could, for a thousand years. He was strong. He would protect Yaling.

Those thoughts were not enough to stop D’Argen from panicking and playing with the fur on his cloak. D’Argen knew that both Thar and Yaling were alive. He would have felt it otherwise. But a Never Born did not need to die to be in danger.

A scream tore through the air in the distance right towards him but even as it travelled… it changed. It sounded less like a scream and more like a howl. Less like humans being tortured by demons and more like a wolf calling for its pack. The following scream sounded like the roar of a bear. The groan that followed was—

Abbot hit him with a wandering hand and D’Argen startled. He faced the artist with covered eyes. Abbot was still unconscious but something about his breathing changed. D’Argen reached down and placed a finger under his nose. Abbot’s nose twitched and the artist smacked his lips in sleep. D’Argen felt like could cry from joy. A quick check with Lilian revealed they were the same as before. No change. No twitch. No wandering hand.

D’Argen reached for their mahee but his own clutched him so tight that it felt like it was wrapped around his heart and squeezing. He let it go. He had seen only once before what happens when the mahee was used fully.

“D’Argen.”

Thar’s voice sounded like a balm. D’Argen immediately faced in that direction. He even dared to lift the edge of his blindfold with a thumb. The white blurs in front of him had vague shapes but he could not make out anything more than one giant blur moving toward him. The closer it came, the more startled D’Argen became because that white blur… it was covered in bright red.