Huh, you’re still here? After that?

Wow. Well, uh, I’m sorry then. That was probably uncalled for, but it was all just a lot to process, you know? Almost dying. And the fish feces. And the horrible wave of murder babies with all those teeth…. Like I said, this is sort of the way I cope.

However, I still can’t promise this is going to be worth it.

There’s just going to be a lot of running.

Which was actually pretty tough in the marshes. The water was deep in parts and shallow in others – the terrain uneven. Islands and banks of dirt rose up out of the soup, creating a makeshift network of highways – which only offered fresh dangers for the unwary. There were still plenty of other creatures living out here. And the way the mist swept in thick and dense from the river made it almost impossible to see. I could only make out the dark outlines of the willow groves that sprung from the marsh, like shadowy silhouettes, their claw-like branches looking far more ominous than usual.

Not that the adult kraell had any trouble with the mist.

They didn’t really need to see or hear to follow my trail.

However, judging from the roars at my back – the sound gradually drawing closer – they could definitely still smell my wounds. The adults’ noses were much keener than the infants’ and they must have picked up my scent when I washed my wounds in the river. The fact that I’d disturbed their nest and killed off their brood was really just a bonus.

The silver lining was that the adult kraell were much slower on land. The water was too shallow for them to use their tails and their stubby legs were terrible for running. That was one of the reasons I’d chosen to hunt for kraell eggs. Among the species that lived in the marshes north of Anchon, believe it or not these were actually some of the easier to hunt.

Another roar, this one closer.

“Shit,” I muttered, pushing forward. But I was almost there—

Then I saw it. A small mound among the marsh. A stick wedged in the mud and a stray red flap of cloth tied to the end. A backup plan I’d prepared in case I ran into trouble.

Okay, fine… when I ran into trouble.

Dropping to my knees, I dug into the soft dirt beneath the stick. I soon found what I was looking for. A small cage of glass covered in runes, the designs etched into the wood frame. And inside, a tiny blue creature smashed against the glass.

It wasn’t humanoid. Or mammal, fish, bird, or insect. It was no mere vessel – a temporary cage of flesh and bone and blood. It was a spirit – an infant water spirit, to be precise – its body a collection of smooth, faintly-glowing sapphire liquid that flowed and formed and broke apart as it crashed against the walls of its tiny prison.

As my face loomed close, the spirit shrank away in terror, recoiling from my presence and hurling itself against the far wall of the cage.

I would really be up to my neck in kraell shit if Elder Gracen knew about this.

Trapping a spirit without its consent went against the Way of the Flow – the religion that dominated the Five Rivers. The religion itself was dense. Full of mantras and scrolls and meandering prophecy offered up by the Oracles. Which was only further muddied by the elders’ interpretation of those writings, overly flowery language, and their own long-winded, self-serving sermons.

Seriously, did all of the mantras really need to be delivered in poem?

However, the Way of the Flow was actually quite simple.

I had condensed it all down into a series of easy-to-understand rules.

Rule Number 1: Spirits are beings of raw nimbus that return to the Flow when their vessel dies. Oh, they’re also “holy.”

Rule Number 2: All other matter is a vessel for the spirits. Living or not, it doesn’t matter. In return, the spirits grant powers to their vessel.

Rule Number 3: A vessel’s duty is to foster and grow their spirit in order to reach transcendence.

Oh, wait… what was that? You have questions about the rules?

Some of the terms are vague? They seem too simplistic? Like why are spirits somehow holy? Who or what created The Five Rivers then? And, uh, seriously, why? Did you see those horrifying murder babies? Also, doesn’t this seem like a shit deal for the vessels? Oh, and is it possible that this whole “transcendence thing” is actually a giant divine scam? Like did anyone else notice that it wasn’t even clear who or what was “transcending?”

Well, tough kraell shit for you.

Because I have a ton of that and I’m all out of answers.

I’m paraphrasing here, of course, but that’s the gist of what the elders told me.

Another odd hole in their rules? What if – speaking not-at-all hypothetically, of course – someone couldn’t lure a spirit into their vessel?

Like say, me? Nyx. This guy right here.

I mean, I’d tried. I tried pretty hard, in fact.

Why wouldn’t I? Did you miss Rule Number 2?

The spirits give you powers.

And, like most children, I’d listened with rapt fascination to the stories of vessels capable of truly extraordinary things. Guides. Beings that could harness that power of divine spirits – capable of bending light, growing forests, and destroying mountains singlehandedly. Legends in their own right. And I’d seen the abilities of the other villagers. Even their more mundane gifts were incredible. The ability to control the water, grow plants, and work metal. I’d dreamed of the day when I could claim a spirit as my own.

I glared down at the tiny creature in that glass cage.

At the bitter irony of what I was holding in my hands…

Among the spirits, I’d always wanted a water spirit. It was actually the symbol of Anchon and its powers were revered for their ability to work the river. Seriously, they plastered a little elemental water rune with a fish fin on every shipment we sent downriver. It was actually pretty iconic branding. Everyone in the southern Outer Reaches knew about us. Our customers even called themselves “Fin-Fans—"

Anyway, I digress. When they were still alive, my mother and father had told me about the water spirits – how they sometimes danced along the surface of Cocytus at night. As a child, I snuck out nearly every evening, sitting along the banks in the hope that one would appear. However, they never came.

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When that failed, I began offering treats and bribes, but still the spirits spurned me. Desperate, I took my baby sister Leandra down to the waters. Even at her first cycle, her presence had been magnetic, as though the spirits could sense her coming. They’d rushed from the waters in a wave of glowing sapphire as though greeting a long-lost friend.

I reached for them… only for the spirits to shudder away from me as soon as I approached, dashing back to the safety of the river. Which, you know, kind of hurt my feelings. I was at that impressionable age.

Faced with yet another failure, I refused to give up. So, I tried hiding in the bushes, building small cages of twigs and twine and pouncing on the unsuspecting spirits – still using my baby sister as bait, of course. Oh, don’t get upset. She was fine. Maybe a little muddy and tired and she cried a lot. But the tears seemed to draw in the spirits faster!

Plus, she doesn’t even remember. Hopefully.

However, her sacrifice was in vain. The water spirits were nothing more than streamers of nimbus and they quickly danced away, bleeding through my flimsy prisons and back into the rivers while making the strangest noises. Almost like they were angry with me.

I’m not proud of what I did next, but I was pretty upset.

I was also only five cycles old. So, give me a break.

I, uh, well… I leaped off one of the piers after them. Actually, I nearly died that day. I sometimes still have a recurring nightmare of that deep, dark water. As though it’s trying to swallow me whole. The way the cloying moisture invaded my mouth and nose, the stiff current sweeping me downriver in an instant.

All while those water spirits just watched me drowning.

Like I said, I might have some trauma. And some trust issues.

Still, I’ve always been persistent.

Or, in Elder Gracen’s own words, “a stubborn shithead.”

So, I decided I just needed to switch up my strategy. Maybe water spirits were just assholes. I mean, it was certainly looking that way.

I’d also overheard the forest callers speaking of a trial meant to attune a vessel to nature and lure a spirit of the trees and grass. So, at six cycles, I ran away from the village, armed only with a small knife, journeying deep into the marshes. But I only found hunger and pain and danger waiting for me. If not for Fang, I would have died out there. I know I would have. Well, him and the stubbornness, of course.

However, it wasn’t the fear of death that ultimately deterred me…

It was the day my parents died.

That signaled a shift. They’d been my last line of defense. My protection – even if I hadn’t realized it at the time – as my peers outstripped me and lured their own spirits one-by-one. Until I was the only one left, empty and barren… And without my parents, I was faced with the harsh truth. The realization I wasn’t meant for greatness like the Guides from Elder Gracen’s stories. That “transcendence” would forever be out of reach.

Which was a shame because the elders had really built it up.

Anyway, I guess two things died that day.

My parents… and my hope.

Also, yes, I may have practiced this monologue a few times.

You should be grateful, though. This is the first time I’ve actually delivered it!

Of course, you’ve probably already guessed the ending. The other villagers soon reached the same inevitable conclusion. A tired, old story as worn-out and recycled as Flow itself. I was different. Other. Friends turned to enemies in a heartbeat. They began to torment me – even the adults spurning me, denying me meals with the others, a place among them. Leaving me to fend for myself as a child.

Yep, this story also has light-to-moderate child abuse!

But what harm was there? I mean, I had no spirit, right?

I was merely an empty vessel.

I was Hollow.

And remember, according to “The Rules,” that meant I was worth nothing. Less than a rock, technically. Especially if said rock was acting as a vessel for a stone spirit.

Needless to say, I’m not a huge fan of The Rules.

My attention whipped back to the glass prison in my hand as the water spirit bucked against its cage. Its body became formless as it coated the glass, looking for any chink in the walls and wards. I tapped at the glass and it lurched back in horror.

“Screw you too,” I muttered, unsurprised by the reaction.

It probably didn’t help that I’d technically buried it alive for three days.

Don’t know why it was so upset, though.

Wasn’t it supposed to be hole-y?

I’m sorry, but you stuck around for this.

Anyway, I tried not to take it too personally. It wasn’t just that the spirits weren’t attracted to my vessel… it was more that they were repulsed by it. As though I was cursed. Rotten meat. Which, uh, didn’t bother me at all. It definitely hadn’t given me any self-esteem or body image issues. Anyway, if my sister Leandra hadn’t helped me lure this infant water spirit, I’d have had no chance of capturing it on my own.

My hands clenched into fists. However, I could still memorize Elder Gracen’s scrolls, trick the village glassblowers into building the cage, and scratch the wards into the wood. That’s how I’d survived this long. By being useful.

Okay, fine… there might have also been some light larceny.

Oh, and a healthy dose of deceit.

Hey, I was just a rock, remember? And you wouldn’t punish a rock for well… being a rock, would you? Of course not! That would be stupid.

Believe it or not, that argument hadn’t worked on Elder Gracen. Figures.

Another roar came from my back.

Damn it. The Kraell were getting closer. And I knew I was just stalling. Again.

I needed bait. A distraction. And there weren’t exactly a lot of options right now. I looked down at my bag. At the lone egg perched inside. And we’d just met…

“Not again,” I muttered. “I don’t think I can lose you like this.”

The egg just sat there.

Okay, I was talking to the egg now.

I heaved out a sigh. However, it was better to go hungry than die gruesomely… wasn’t it? Right now, I wasn’t so sure.

But I still lifted the egg free of my bag, set it down gently, then speared my dagger through the top – poking a hole in the thick shell. I closed my eyes for that part. I couldn’t bear to watch. Luckily, while the kraell preferred the taste of sapian, they were opportunistic hunters. That point had certainly been driven home as I watched the infants devour each other. Hopefully, the egg’s contents would be enough to attract their attention.

Acting quickly, I thumbed the small latch at the top of the water spirit’s cage. As it realized what I was about to do, it tried to flee, but resting my hand along the top was enough to deter it despite the patchwork of holes created by my fingers. Technically, it could have escaped if it wanted to. It chose the confines of its cage rather than touch my tainted skin.

Which really helped with the guilt at what I was about to do—

Muttering under my breath and my stomach protesting loudly, I lifted the egg and dumped the contents inside. The water spirit tried to run then. Tried to flee. But it had nowhere to go and was soon swimming in the thick liquid, its body absorbing the contents of the egg. For good measure, I dropped the scaly, unborn Kraell inside and capped the top, making sure to shake it well. Then I popped it open again and dumped the contents.

The spirit fell into the waters of the marsh with a splash, much of the egg’s contents flowing along with it. It seemed confused, stumbling and its body rippling and contorting. Then it looked at me and let out a wet, squelching sound to announce its displeasure, its form contorting into a truly impressive number of shapes, including one that vaguely resembled a sapian hand. Although, that could have been my imagination…

“I suppose this means you’re an egg spirit now. Congratulations, you’ve transcended,” I observed solemnly, hand over my vessel’s heart.

Okay, in my defense, the lack of food, near death experience, and running for my life through the marsh might have been starting to get to me… I was usually a lot funnier.

The spirit froze as though it had heard me. Then came another, louder series of wet noises before it went limp. Like it had just given up. Then it took off into the marshes, racing away into the wetlands like a river wraith was on its heels.

“Hey, I’m not really at my best today!”

Then, more quietly, “Everyone’s a damned critic.”

I let out a sigh and rinsed the cage quickly before plopping it back in the hole and covering it with dirt. There was no sense taking the risk of bringing it with me. I also took the time to clean and rebandage my wounds more carefully. Already, the cuts were stitching closed. The nimbus that saturated the waters of Cocytus helped expedite our vessels’ healing and it was routine for the villagers to use the waters as a salve.

Not that this helped with my clothing. I was muddy, covered in grime… as well as another unpleasant substance that reeked of fish. A souvenir that I’d brought with me from the kraell nest. Hopefully, the smell of their own refuse would act as a repellant and help mask my scent. Either way, there was little I could do about that right now.

So, I took off at a brisk jog, sticking to the narrow ramps of dirt that rose up out of the marsh. Mercifully, the roars at my back began to recede as the adult kraell caught scent of the egg spirit and reversed course, chasing after the spirit as it made a beeline for the banks of Cocytus. Which meant I was safe.

Or, correction, I wasn’t in any imminent danger of dying.

However, I was still starving, my stomach protesting loudly. My arm still burned from the Kraell’s scratches. Oh, and I was covered in fish shit!

More importantly, this was going to be a real pain in the ass to explain.

Especially as the sun ebbed toward the horizon.

I was supposed to be at the village “Game Day.” A different type of hell than the one I’d just escaped from… but this time without food. I sighed and just kept running – putting more distance between myself and the kraell. I should think positively. The worst was behind me now. Dealing with the other villagers wouldn’t kill me.

Or, at least, probably not.