Chapter 11 — Falling

Under the endless sea of ice, the dappled sky glittered in specks of blues, greens and reds against a black canvas. Af huffed into the air, releasing a thick cloud of warm fog that gave her a moment’s respite against the bleak frigid gales that swept perpetually across the planet’s surface.

The arctic vista was painted in a muted white, stretching in an unbroken line as far as the eye could see. There were no landmarks, no traces of past civilisations, nothing. It had taken her too long to learn how to navigate using the ever-changing constellations that raced above their heads. And now they had finally returned to the bunker after what felt like an interminable journey, scouring potential locations that Eric had triangulated off ageing maps, slowly gaining the trust of his constant shadow and companion — a droll but seemingly tireless insect-like creature named Chulsa who spent hours winging ahead of them to scout out their next locations as the two of them bedded down for the night, countless heartbeats spent trading secrets and hopes over the glow of a fire and eventually… kisses too.

She gave a small smile, one hand reaching up to rest upon her belly in wonder. A miracle… and so close to where it began all those rests ago. Rests were Eric’s latest invention, a way of noting one specific time period from another. So many terms to make sense of the world around them. Unnecessary ways, Af thought. Order, as he called them. ‘How will we be able to identify when things happened or why?’ he had asked. She had simply shrugged. The world was the way it was and there was no reason nor need to question it.

Towards what she now knew was called the west, the two males were setting up camp—a task that previously used to be hers until they learnt of her recent condition and a rather mystified yet determined Chulsa had not so politely chivvied her away. Even in the distance, the lack of Eric’s usual stream of consciousness was conspicuous.

Af looked down at her feet which were wrapped in thick layers of worn leather. Throughout their explorations—or adventuring as Eric called it—, there had been unexpected moments of disquietude within him, something she had often wondered about. She finally questioned him during one of their more dangerous ventures into a raging hailstorm to investigate a remote bunker that had been recorded there after the fall of human civilisation.

“Why are you doing this? Why try so hard to find all these bunkers? Are you looking for someone?” She had had to yell the words as they huddled together beneath Chulsa’s sheltering wings.

His eyebrows rose, flakes of ice fluttering down from them as he did so. “You know why we’re doing this—to find other survivors! And we can always do with more supplies. There’s only so long I can live off creamed corn.”

“No but…” she hesitated before deciding to plough on, “you always look like you’re looking for someone… someone in particular. Like you’re expecting to find them waiting for us. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no,” he said with a sigh. “I suppose I might as well tell you. You should know the kind of person you’re travelling with, right?” He gave a smile that tugged at her heart.

“I know by now what kind of person you are, Eric.”

“Well, you might change your mind after hearing what I’ve got to say.”

“I won’t,” she said in a serene tone.

He looked baffled by her conviction. “Well… it all started a few years into the Sixth Ice Age when I was born. There weren’t a lot of kids around to start with; our bunker was a scientific research centre so as you can imagine, not exactly a happy family sorta place. I was the youngest around, by a long shot. My parents were always busy, my father with his experiments and my mother with her plants. I remember other residents telling me they were very important people, leaders and experts in their fields. And it was great really, I mean who else had two of the world’s greatest scientists at their beck and call? And at least it gave me a lot of free time to satisfy my curiosity, right?”

He crumbled a little before her pensive gaze. “I guess… it made me a little lonely. By the time I was old enough to understand what was going on, everyone else was gone. It was just the three of us left—and father’s menagerie of course. I think they had me quite late in life, more like a surprise than a planned thing.”

“Maybe they were feeling lonely too?”

He paused. “Huh. I didn’t think of that.” Eric barked a harsh laugh. “And here I thought I was a mistake!”

Af squeezed his hands between hers, not even noticing when she had picked them up in the first place.

“By then, my parents had started disappearing for long periods. Of course, I tried to follow them but… I never quite figured out how to sneak into their secret lab. Instead, I started exploring everywhere else I could break into. At least I wasn’t making trouble, right? That’s when I finally met Chulsa for the first time and all sorts of other creatures. It’s also when I made my first friend.”

Eric looked down at his feet. “He didn’t have a name and he didn’t know anything about the world. Oh he knew what happened, the Sun’s death and all that but… not much of our history. We talked about everything from old German fairy tales to the workings of a nuclear reactor. I… I never realised how important having a friend was. Not just having someone to talk to but… it felt like we were making sense of the world together, you know? But then I messed it all up.” He hung his head.

“It… it wasn’t enough for me. I was getting restless, itching to leave and explore beyond the confines of those metal walls. He didn’t want me to leave, of course, he begged me to take him with me but… I was determined. I convinced my parents I was going to look for other survivors out there, even though we hadn’t heard from another commune in over a decade by then. My parents finally agreed to let me go but wouldn’t hear a word of me taking him. They did, however, insist on Chulsa here since he was the strongest one out of all the experiments. See this?” he asked, tapping on the solid barrier protecting them from the lethal bombardment of fist-sized pellets of ice outside. “They based his exoskeleton on something called carbon fibre —a material they used to build things like vehicles that could fly into the air.”

Af regarded the motionless arthropod with new eyes.

“Anyway! We left on our very first adventure. Fresh-faced, eager and… to be honest, a little naïve.” He chuckled, ruffling his messy hair even more. She repressed the urge to comb it back into place, knowing it would only become a riotous mess once again the second they stepped out of Chulsa’s embrace. “We didn’t really know where we were going or how long it would take. The amount of tools I lost along the way was…” He gazed at the straps of his backpack with a mournful pout. “After we found the first bunker, I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough of it. I kept going, further and further, drunk on the freedom until…”

Sensing his reluctance, Af interrupted him. “You don’t have to continue.”

Eric shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes. In a quieter voice that meant she had to press so close she could feel his breath on her ear, he continued, “We stopped hearing back from them one day. I thought maybe something had gone wrong with my walkie-talkie but dear old Chulsa convinced me that we best go back to check it out. But… you know the rest of it anyway. They were all gone. And it looked like some sort of explosion had ripped through the bunker. I never found my parents, my friend. Everything was gone.”

“Not everything,” Af said, giving him a hesitant smile.

He finally met her eyes again, a clear icy blue that usually reflected the glittering stars dancing in the sky. “Not everything,” he repeated softly.

Af shook her head, clearing the cobwebs of old memories away. She had wandered far away enough from the camp that she knew Eric would get worried. Although they had discovered early on that she was far more robust than him, that never stopped him from fussing over her. She scanned the horizon one last time before turning, only to do a double-take.

Amidst the harsh, glacial landscape she had finally gotten used to calling home, Af spotted something that hadn’t been there before. In the distance, a dark pebble-grey smudge rose ever so slightly from the hardened crust of perma-ice. She dithered for a moment before deciding to take a quick look, inching slowly towards the unmoving heap until she realised that it was no living creature. In fact, it was the tip of a rock that seemed to be locked in place, rough and freezing cold to the touch. Af brushed away more of the loosely packed snow, the white crunchy ice melting in an instant under her touch, revealing another bumpy stone of a similar shape and size underneath it. They were melded together by a thin line of lighter grey that felt curiously smooth to the touch.

“Eric, come see this!” she called into the darkness, knowing he would be close enough to hear. It didn’t take long before she had uncovered an almost perfectly straight line of similarly shaped stones, all connected by thin stripes that seemed to continue deeper into the ground. From behind, the icy ground crackled beneath Eric’s footsteps as he jogged towards her.

“Incredible,” he breathed, falling to his knees. He pulled out the small pickaxe that had been tucked into his belt and began chipping away at the nearby ice.

“What is it?”

“I believe,” he looked up at her, a familiar sparkle back in his brilliant blue eyes, “it’s the remains of a very old castle. I can’t believe it! Do you know what this means, Af? Somehow, it’s warm enough for the perma-ice to melt in this area.” He grabbed her arms and waggled his frozen eyebrows in a way that he knew made her laugh. “It’s a sign, a sign I tell you!”

She giggled in mixed joy and bewilderment.

“This is where we’ll build our new home! You hear that, Chulsa?” He spoke into the air, unsurprised as Chulsa suddenly folded his wings and descended from the sky, landing next to them with a quiet thump.

“I hear you, Eric. And so do the rest of the stars, might I add,” came the dry remark.

“Who cares? Tonight, my lady,” Eric proclaimed in a louder booming voice, “we will feast like kings!”

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Kobal looked up at Rasiel, the tips of his moustache trembling as the ropes that once bound his paws fell to the floor.

“Go,” she said bitterly, letting her arm hang down by her side. “You do not deserve my mercy.”

“How—why would you—how can you—” Words, for the first time, failed Kobal.

“Because I know who I am,” Rasiel said with a snarl. “And I know what Soter would have wanted me to do. I won’t kill the only other remaining member of my clan. You may have forgotten your roots but I haven’t.” She released the dagger, letting it clatter to the ground by Kobal.

He loosened the rope around his feet with his freed paws and moved to stand up, eyeing her warily the whole time.

“We’re preparing for an attack. Leave this place and never show your face before me again, or you might not be so lucky the second time.”

“Why are you letting me go?”

She sneered. “You were always the best at running away. If any of us should survive, it makes sense that it would be you.”

They heard voices echoing down the corridor. Rasiel threw a hand up. ‘Wait,’ she mouthed.

Kobal sat back down with a thump, hiding his hands behind his back. The voices grew more distinct, making it clear that one of them was unhappy.

“—understand that privacy is important but we cannot risk—Rasiel, my dear!” The Queen stopped mid-sentence and greeted her. Trailing behind her was the ever-quiet Chulsa, his wings drooped in a rather forlorn manner. “Thank the stars you’re alright, what were you thinking staying here alone in your condition?”

Rasiel gave a tight smile. “I’m fine, milady. Thank you for your worry.”

The Queen darted a glance towards Kobal’s hunched figure and rested a hand on Rasiel’s arm. “Let’s have last meal now, hm? I believe we have a special feast of slow-roasted frivans to look forward to. We don’t want the little one going hungry.”

Kobal was startled, the words leaving his mouth almost before he even registered it. “You’re—you’re pregnant?”

They turned to look at him as one and he sank as much as he could, sheltering his unbound feet from view.

“Soter’s last gift to me,” Rasiel finally replied, her head held high as she rested a paw on her belly. Turning to leave without a second glance, Rasiel entwined arms with the Queen and walked out. “Thank you for your concern, milady. Last meal is my favourite time of day and I would have been…” Her voice trailed away as they disappeared down the corridor.

Kobal watched Chulsa warily but the advisor merely gave him a nod before following behind, locking the cell with a click as he left. Even as the footsteps long faded, the self-professed master spy extraordinaire stayed frozen, his limbs locked in place with indecision. The coldness of the stone tiles seeped into his bones. Slowly, the lancing ache of something sharp under him broke through the numbness.

“Wha—" He shifted. It was Rasiel’s dagger. The silvery metal glinted in the faint glow of the only pixy lantern that hung out in the corridor. He turned it towards the light, catching sight of his own reflection as he did so. For the first time in what felt like a long time, he took a proper look at himself: the sullen moustache he used to take so much pride in, the sunken cheeks that pressed against his snout, the hollow rings around his once sparkling eyes. If any of his people ever saw him in this condition, they would exile him in an instant.

He winced, struck by the chilling reminder that there wasn’t anyone left to exile him. Other than Rasiel of course. Rasiel! His heart convulsed in a paroxysm of anguishsadnesspain including a full body flush at the reminder of what he had said to her in the courtyard. Stupid stupid stupid! She doesn’t care about you, she has Soter! Or… Soter’s kit now. That revelation had been like a gut punch, striking him right at his weak underbelly where the scales of his tail met fur. Soter’s kit. Of course. The bastard always had it easy.

Kobal slumped over, pulling his furry ears down as far as they could go in an attempt to cover his eyes. No no no! Bad Kobal. Soter is your friend! Was your friend. He’s gone now. You are cursing a dead man. And his kit. His eyes widened. And Rasiel’s kit. And it’s going to grow up without any idea of who or what it is… and I did that. I did that with my own two hands. He looked down at his paws, the dagger slipping from his grasp. They suddenly looked rough and larger than normal, straining under the weight of the lives they had taken. I did it. I killed everyone.

He felt sick, the urge to purge himself climbing up his throat in a rather abrupt manner. The air around him felt like it was boiling him alive, ripping away his paltry attempts at breathing. Kobal gasped and staggered to his feet, grabbing hold of the dagger as he did so. I—I must stop it. I must stop Master’s plans!

Stumbling towards the door of the storage closet, he jammed the tip of the dagger into the keyhole, twisting viciously until he heard a faint click. Kobal threw the door open, hoping that it would be easier to breathe but the empty corridor now felt crowded and cramped, as if hundreds of others were squeezed into the narrow hallway, standing there, watching, waiting, breathing into the silence as he took one step and then another.

He broke into a run.

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The battle raged around him. The screech of steel, a flurry of hoofbeats, a strangled scream, the heat of fresh blood splattering on his skin, the trembling of his limbs as he pushed them past the point of fatigue. He had long lost the multitude of weapons on his body, now only left with his trusty hunting boomerang and one final hidden dagger.

Soranth dodged an errant spear that flew past his head into the chasm, the edge of the spearhead slicing a fine line across his cheek in a sudden bloom of heat. “Watch it!” he snapped on instinct, the words more aimed at himself than the hapless soldier who threw it.

He had managed to distract the bear successfully but it had only been the beginning. The gathering army of shadows had taken advantage of their momentary paralysis, rushing down the open path while they were otherwise occupied. Thankfully, his Generals had reordered the troops just in time to meet them head-on in a discordant clash of metal. The Commander’s eyes darted across the battlefield. His soldiers were tiring, he could feel it. The long march, the unending struggle, the perpetual fear of imminent death.

The thunderous boom of the beast’s paw slamming into the ground next to Soranth jolted him back to reality, showering him in dust and soil as he rolled to the side. Soranth jumped back on his feet and tightened his lips. With their dwindling numbers, they were bound to be swept under the seemingly endless waves of demons—unless he did something to stop both the beast and its accompanying army. Something drastic. His eyes flicked to the only man-made monument in the vicinity.

The bridge, on any other day, would have been a thing of beauty. With unnaturally sleek lines and polished edges, it was almost as if it was carved from a solid piece of stone that spanned the chasm. The bridge was barricaded by a low barrier on either side that barely reached Soranth’s knees, each one a hand’s width in size. Gentle arches held it up, meeting in the middle where a grand but narrow pillar stretched downwards into the foggy abyss.

Soranth eyed the shaggy limb next to him as it rose slowly, the paw as wide as his torso and the protruding claws that curled even further, longer than the blades of the swords they carried. The tips of them were almost impossible to see in the low light as they left deep gouges in the hardened ground, a warning of what was to come if he let himself get distracted again. Or… Soranth mulled as he distracted the beast by aiming his last dagger directly at its eye so it would have to dodge it, an opportunity.

The indestructible bridge was overflowing with enemies, shadows pushing and crawling over each other as they rushed to join the combat. Soranth dodged one particularly excitable creature as it extended its multitude of tentacles to envelop his face and instead plastered itself against the side of the humongous bear. In the seconds between him having to dodge yet another creature and put some distance between him and his stalker, Soranth managed to catch sight of the tentacled creature thrashing once, twice before falling limp as it was sucked into the monster’s skin.

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“Valda!” Soranth yelled, barely hiding the tremble in his voice. Perhaps it was just his imagination but the beast’s paw seemed to grow incrementally in size. “VAL—!”

Before he could finish, a series of silver-fletched arrows struck a line of demons ahead of him, clearing a path towards the bridge. “Thanks!” he yelled into empty air, trusting that she would hear him as he raced forward, taking advantage of the momentary respite before a new cluster of enemies converged. In the rare gaps between the inky black creatures that oozed across the bridge, the raised railing of the border could barely be seen, a spot of white in a sea of darkness.

Soranth ran towards the right edge, hoping to gain the higher ground and catch the demon’s eye. He was only going to get one shot to achieve what Valda would call ‘the most frivan-brained idea she’d ever heard of’ and for it, he needed to be in the perfect position. In his haste, he missed a snaking feeler that lashed out just above his ankle, catching him off balance and throwing him off his feet. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a pitch-black blob arcing up high as he fell towards the ground, the sharp tips of its tentacles curving around to pierce him from above.

In the space of a heartbeat, Soranth twisted mid-air, ripping out the boomerang that was attached to his belt and sending it flying with a flick of his wrist. He hit the icy surface of the bridge with a solid thump, the hard stone stamping all the air from his lungs. His head slammed against the ground and for a few breathless moments, the dim stars spun feebly above him, spiralling into a blur of lazy hoops. Soranth blinked rapidly, desperate to see if he had managed to hit his assailant as he scrabbled backwards until his back hit a firm wall.

Coughing to catch his breath and clear the ringing in his ears, Soranth shook his head a few times only to realise that the ringing was not a ringing at all… but the whistling of his boomerang racing back to earth. The high keen ended in a soft crack that was almost soundless in the chaos of the battle as it lodged into the grey stone of the bridge, standing upright and splitting the stream of endless enemies.

Soranth’s stomach swooped low as he looked towards the boomerang, for on the other side was the hulking hind legs of the giant bear, leading up to a pendulous belly swollen with the corpses of his people, its two arms hanging loosely by its side as it tilted its head to the side. Somehow, just like it did from across the battlefield, Soranth knew that the bear was looking straight at him. And the boomerang between them. The boomerang, which they both knew was Soranth’s last remaining weapon. When he met the beast’s eyes again, the corners of its mouth seemed to pull up in the caricature of a smirk. Soranth gulped.

The beast dropped to all fours once again with a thunderous boom, the bridge vibrating against Soranth’s spine as he pressed against the barrier. An almost eerie silence seemed to descend between them, the ravenous shadows that hurled themselves towards the front line bleeding back into misty figures on either side of Soranth’s vision. He propped himself up with his arm flat on the low edge so he was half-standing, his gaze unwavering, emerald eyes boring into a sepulchral void empty of humanity.

Then, as if in an unspoken agreement, a burst of movement. The monstrous beast surged forward, muscles rippling as it barrelled towards Soranth. Meanwhile, the Commander leapt up on the barrier in one smooth move, using his arm to launch himself in the air and landing on the narrow railing with both his feet. On one side, certain death from a rampaging beast, on the other, a freefall into the yawning gorge.

Perched on the barrier, Soranth paused, time slowing to a painful crawl as he waited for the beast to reach close enough until it was too late for it to turn away. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, a deafening drum that screamed for survival, screamed for him to run, to move, to jump, to do something, anything to survive this spectre of death, this thief who would steal the stars from his sight forever, who would rob his mother of ever seeing her son again, a cold heartless fiend who would crush him, suffocate him, silence this lone heartbeat once and for all. His hands shook. But still, he waited.

He only had one chance. And when the beast entered within swiping range, he took it. Soranth ran. He sprinted down the length of the railing, pushing every inch of his straining body to put as much space between him and the bear as possible. A chilling wind brushed the back of his neck as razor-sharp claws sliced the air he had occupied a bare second ago. The bear rammed into the solid barrier, brutish paws crushing the rock as if it were hardened clay, sending a chunk of it flying into the void. The structure shook below his feet, lurching from side to side as Soranth desperately tried to keep his balance. His arms windmilled, the pit opening wide before him as he pitched towards the right.

“Max!” A slim hand wrapped around his wrist, securing him in an unnaturally stiff grip. Valda, her jet-black eyes wide with concern, steadied herself against the teetering bridge with the tenacious sturdiness that she and her brother were known for.

Soranth allowed himself to relax as she gave a strong tug, pulling him down from the barrier and straight into her arms. They fell to the ground, Soranth on top of her, his arms holding him up from either side of her head, the tip of his nose brushing hers. For what felt like a long breath but must have only been a few seconds, they stayed suspended in time, their eyes locked in place. In stark contrast to the bear he had been facing off, Valda’s eyes were a raging storm of emotions swirling with worry, relief and something else he couldn’t quite place. She turned away abruptly, cutting him off before he could figure it out.

“Well? Are you getting off?” Her already rosy cheeks darkened to a captivating shade of ruby red. His hand rose instinctively but before he could do anything with it, he was interrupted by a high-pitched scream.

It was Cresil. Another of the ponderous six-armed giants had made its way over, pushing past the stunned bear standing by the rubble of the crumbling barrier, and was looming over the defenceless chemycus.

Soranth flared his nostrils, a rising flare of anger that he tamped down impatiently. “Cursed stars,” he swore as he pushed himself up, a sliver of regret at the sudden loss of heat. “Valda, can you—”

“I’m not leaving,” came the immediate retort.

He met her eyes. “Please.”

Valda glared at him as she jumped to her feet. “Don’t tell me you want to save that useless piece of Slyrdion dung—”

“He’s one of us. What would Mother say?”

She growled, a low rumbling that sounded like pebbles shifting under a rushing stream.

“Those who do not stand together, f—”

“Fall together, yes, yes I know!” With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she unslung the bow and turned towards Cresil’s direction, the chemycus now cowering as the giant raised its upper pair of arms. “You better stay alive so I can kill you after this.” With that parting shot, she darted off, stringing an arrow and letting it fly past the giant’s cheek to catch its attention.

The Commander turned to face the recovering bear, the beast shaking out the scruffy fur around its neck as it recovered from its head-on collision. The smashed remains of the railing lay in pieces all around him, a chalky cloud of fine grey dust settling back down onto the reportedly invulnerable bridge. Alright, Soranth thought, eyeing up the barrier on the other side, let’s try this again, shall we?

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Kobal panted as he ran, tail draped over his arm as he scurried down the deserted corridors. Angry voices echoed from behind, a thunder of hooves clipping on the stone floors as the Royal Guard called for him to halt. Despite his circumstances, the master spy extraordinaire couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Do they—really—expect me—to stop?”

Reaching yet another split in the infinite labyrinth of corridors, Kobal pressed his other paw to the piercing stitch in his side as he pondered the two exits: one well-lit by a glowing pixy lantern and the other a dimmer stretch. “I should have—really worked on—my stamina,” he said between pants as he stumbled towards the brighter corridor. The voices receded as he turned the corner, only to halt in his tracks.

A startled faun stared back at him, the tweezers falling from his hands as the dim pixy bines that he had been replacing scattered to the floor. He clutched the basket of freshly crushed glowing petals he had been holding, the faun’s mouth opening and closing to no avail.

“Shh,” Kobal hushed the panicking youngling as he turned back to check if the intersection was still clear. “Just… pretend you didn’t see me. If you keep quiet, I’ll just leave and nothing bad will happen, alright?”

The faun nodded vigorously.

“Alright.” Kobal twisted on the spot, retracing his steps back to the main corridor but following the dim light this time. Hopefully, he could continue to stay under the radar and—

“Guards! GUARDS!” a voice screeched from behind him.

Kobal pressed his eyes closed for a second, stifling a heavy sigh. Picking up his tail once again, he dashed towards what was slowly revealing itself to be an exit. The unchanging castle relented before his efforts, opening up to a wide cobblestone path that hugged the castle walls, bordering a rapid stream that overflowed occasionally onto the algae-ridden path. He windmilled slightly, only just catching his balance as the path below his paws grew slippery with dew.

“Kobal!”

His paws skidded as he turned to see Rasiel stepping out from behind a fractured pillar from the other end of the castle grounds. She bore a conflicted look on her face, whiskers taut as her ears flicked all around cautiously. For a heartbeat, having that look directed at him sent a bolt of anguish through him but he quelled it with a self-incriminating Focus, Kobal Lynchwood! You have bigger things to worry about!

“Rasiel! Listen, I need you to take me to the throne room.” He darted a glance at the dark corridor he had just left.

She blanched. “Are you crazy? You need to leave. Now.”

“No, no! There’s something I need to do, something only I can do. I promise I’m not hurting anyone, I swear on my tail!” He pleaded at her disbelieving look. “Something really bad is going to happen if I don’t stop it.”

Her eyes drilled into him, bushy brows drawing together.

“Please, Rasiel,” Kobal begged, barely audible over the rushing water. “I—I know it’s too late now but I’m really sorry for how everything went down. I—I wish I never left Cahethal that night. I know you probably won’t believe me but I begged him over and over to kill me,” he confessed without meeting her eyes. “But that’s—that’s why I have to fix it now. This is it, this is my chance to make things better. So please Rasiel, please. Just… just one last chance…”

The tension drained from her shoulders. “One wrong move…” she warned before turning abruptly, her tail whipping from side to side in a restless manner.

“I promise you’ll never see me—wait, what?” He looked up and began to scurry after her retreating back. “Wait!”

She continued towards the back of the castle, heading deeper into the dense woods that seemed to burst out of Maraciel Castle in a suffocating shroud of greenery with the towering black trunks of magis mahogany that were shielded by a jade-green veil of gossamer leaves, thick vines which would usually have been carefully tended to that now hung heavy with over-ripe starmelon, and the occasional silvery glimmer of a goldenglow tree illuminating the darkness.

Kobal eyed the foreboding trees and hurried to get closer, nearly tripping on Rasiel’s tail in his haste.

“Watch it!” She turned abruptly into a narrow corridor that flanked a small open courtyard overtaken by an overgrown magis mahogany, its bulging roots breaking free of the constraining cobblestone while an umbrella of thick branches stretched high above the surrounding castle walls.

He bobbed his head in apology. “S—sorry. Listen, I—I just wanted to say that I wish all the best for you and—”

“Shut up,” Rasiel hissed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Don’t you dare say a word about my kit.”

Kobal held his paws up. “I won’t, I’m sor—”

“You have no right,” she continued, stopping in her tracks to shoot him a look so infused with barely controlled fury and revulsion that he felt a little part of his soul curdle. He wanted to curl up, pull his ears down to cover his eyes, anything to stop the disgust directed at him from one of the few people who had treated him decently. “No right to speak a word after you’ve ruined their life before they could even open their eyes. You’ve taken their home, their father, their family, their friends, their chance at having a family of their own, EVERYTHING!” Rasiel panted, the last word bouncing off the stone walls around them.

Kobal flinched at her scream, his eyes drilling into the ground by her feet. The taste of guilt was like ash in his mouth. It was a repulsive thing that he wanted to spit out but no matter how hard he tried, the cloying feeling only seemed to spread.

“The only reason,” she said after a few breaths, stepping closer to whisper in his ears, “I’m letting you do this right now is to help my comrades. Not because I care about you. Not because I wish to absolve you. Don’t mistake my actions for forgiveness. You mean nothing to me.”

He tried to meet her eyes but the ice in her unwavering gaze sent his own skittering across the silent courtyard. After a long pause, she finally turned on her heel and continued down the corridor. “It’s this way,” she said in a cool voice, her head held high.

For a heartbeat, Kobal’s legs trembled beneath him, ready to scarper in the opposite direction the moment her back was turned. But as he looked around the deserted courtyard, he felt the heavy weight of hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him. Eyes filled with disgust. Eyes filled with hate. Even pity. Of all the emotions, pity was the worst.

He hated it with every fibre of his being. Even when he was attacked by his fellow denmates, before Rasiel and Soter began courting and it was just the three of them against the rest of them, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was just their friend out of pity. It made him feel weak and incapable. Worst of all, it made him feel helpless.

Kobal narrowed his eyes and took a small step forward. Followed by another.

Before long, he was standing before the empty throne room, the partially caved-in hall dwarfed by the magis mahogany tree that dominated the east end. These walls had borne witness to an incalculable number of decisions, from kingdom-wide policies to minor issues debated endlessly by bureaucratic fauns.

And today, they would once again be spectators to a transformational act, a daring rescue mission beyond the likes of any other. Kobal narrowed his eyes at the amorphous shadows gathered under the throne of wilting eldercress and darted forward, heedless of Rasiel’s yelp of surprise.

The filmy web attempted to resist but gave way as Kobal ripped the nebulous shadow from under the throne with grim determination. He expertly rolled it into the familiar ball he had smuggled into the castle with him just a few rests ago as a few shouts rose in alarm as the Royal Guard finally alerted to his presence.

Time seemed to slow as he wove between the silver-tipped spears that veered at him, finally finding his feet as he danced upon the knife’s edge of death. Behind him, a painful end from being skewered by a dozen spears. Ahead of him, the towering proud tree, its golden trunk stalwart and tall as it pierced the starry sky.

Kobal ran.

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The bridge was a network of fractures and hairline cracks, the crushed remains of both the railings littering the cratered platform as they danced between the rubble. It almost felt mindless at this point, his muscles a weary collection of thin ropes taut to breaking point that only responded at the very last moment.

From the corner of his eye, Soranth spotted a rare untouched corner near the end of the bridge. This close to Mount Zarphan, the air stung with a harsh sulphuric bite, settling uncomfortably against the walls of his lungs. He grimaced and stumbled towards the remaining edge of the barrier, the last part of the structure that he could feasibly weaken before he ran out of ideas on how to bring the bridge down.

Below his feet, he felt a strange shudder that didn’t feel anything like the previous ones. He began to turn but before his head could even swivel halfway to the point of his shoulder, he spotted a grey wall rushing towards him, looming larger as it raced straight to him.

Soranth, in a blind panic, threw himself to the side, landing perilously close to the edge of the bridge. His upper half dangled above empty air as he stared down into a murky abyss, the gloomy mist seeming to stretch up towards him like a baleful embrace. Soranth swallowed his heart back down his throat and latched on to the pock-marked ledge that was just within reach.

As he steadied himself with one hand, he noticed the faint rhythmic thumping that grew stronger and stronger. He groaned. The beast was running. With a herculean effort, Soranth heaved himself back over more steady ground, his back pressed against the edge as he tried to find his footing.

A froth had built up in the demon’s maw, its eyes wild with hunger and desire as it charged towards him. The beast was so close now that he could smell the strong burn of iron—the blood of his people—and feel the torrid wave of heat as its heaving pants rolled over him. At the very last moment, Soranth’s foot slipped on the loose rubble. He felt himself begin to fall.

Limbs refused to comply. It was like he was tethering at the edge of one of Maraciel Castle’s tall towers. Come on Max, move just move! Just grab the first thing you touch.

In the back of his mind, he faintly registered Valda’s husky voice as she screamed his name across the bridge. It was the panic in her cry that jolted Soranth out of his reverie. He never wanted to hear her scream his name like that again. His hand instinctively reached out, latching onto the only thing in reach: the demon’s left claw as it viciously swiped at him, desperate to snatch him even as he fell to his death.

Contrary to the sharp pain he expected from the claws slicing through his fingers, his hand passed straight through to the other side in a smoky haze. His momentum as he swung wide helped pull him forward and away from the edge by a few staggered steps.

Soranth blinked several times, his eyes darting between the demon and his hand. It had felt like his hand was briefly enveloped in a lukewarm liquid but there wasn’t a drop of moisture in sight. The beast was staring down at his left arm where a clean line had been taken out and replaced by floating specks of ash.

“What th—” Soranth began to say automatically before Valda’s words filtered through.

“Max, RUN!”

He gave a start and turned on his heel, darting through the rubble without glancing back. Behind him, the beast howled as it thrashed in pain, a frenzied blast of air that nearly sent Soranth flying again. Scrabbling across the bridge and around the few enemies that hadn’t been felled by a preceding line of arrows, he darted towards the only sanctuary he could see.

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Kobal grabbled for the next branch in the dense canopy, having somehow succeeded in clambering up the tree with only three free limbs. The tenebrous orb was pulsing frantically in his grip now, having warmed slowly until it was almost too hot to touch. He inspected it despite the curses and stray arrows whizzing past him, knowing the searing heat meant that time was running out.

Taking a deep breath, Kobal clung to the main trunk with his feet, his tail wrapping around it to steady himself as he leaned back as far as possible. With as much strength as he could—something even he would admit as lacking greatly—he launched the shapeless blob into the air.

The orb sailed high in an arc, blotting out the stars as it barely cleared the remains of one of Maraciel’s many crumbling bridges. The eyes of everyone in the throne hall followed its journey as it abruptly shrunk to a hard condensed ball. There was a beat of silence as it hung suspended in the air, a hovering frivan as it hunted for the insects that flitted amongst the cooler undergrowth.

Then, just as quickly, it flattened into a disk.

“Milady, watch out!” Chulsa snapped forward, his wings wrapping around a surprised Queen Af almost too quickly for eyes to catch.

BOOM.

A concussive shockwave of force and sound ripped through the castle, throwing all its inhabitants flat to the ground.

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The brittle black ground broke below his feet as he ventured where no living creature had gone before, his feet crushing the coarse top layer into fine sand. This close, the bleak Mount Zarphan dominated the horizon, the solitary giant having been pacified after its second eruption.

Soranth took a moment to get his breath back, panting in relief at the near miss as he gazed at his right hand in wonder. He looked back up at Valda who had fallen back against a section of the remains of a crushed railing, bow hanging loosely now that he was out of danger.

Raising his head to taunt her that his frivan-brained idea had succeeded after all, Soranth froze when the bear, who had pulled itself up to its full imposing height on two legs to vent its wrath at the sky in a silent scream, snapped its jaw shut to glower at Valda.

A look of horror swept across Valda’s face as her eyes flicked to just behind him where the army of shadows still kept pouring in from. She pulled away from the debris, stumbling in his direction and closer to the beast. “Max, behind you!”

“No—” he choked, the words crowding on his tongue. His eyes desperately roved the battlefield for Valda’s nagacougar, spotting the beast as it batted away a tentacle creature in its desperation to reach its owner, only to be blocked by a giant. “Watch—behind—” In that instant, he knew she wouldn’t listen to him. “Chulsa go!” His last remaining lifeline and weapon, the fastest and strongest creature in Maraciel. If there was anyone who could save Valda now, it was him.

“But—” the arthropod clone finally revealed itself, poking its head from the back of Soranth’s collar.

“GO!” The Commander roared as Valda’s eyes finally met his, a hint of confusion as she finally caught his gaze and turned to the enraged beast as it took one lumbering step in her direction then another. And almost too quickly, it was upon her.

Soranth barely felt the whisper of Chulsa’s pincers as the clone sprang into motion, focused as he was on Valda as she attempted to twist behind the rubble. Before he knew it, he too had broken into a run, flying over the debris and craters in the bridge without a moment of hesitation.

The bear struck with its remaining paw, swinging the cage of deadly claws at Valda’s exposed head in a cruel imitation of what it had done to her twin just hours ago.

Too small to be seen, something crashed into Valda’s chest, pushing her a step back and just out of reach of the rapier-like claws. Instead, Clone Chulsa took the brunt of the hit as the monster slammed straight into the arthropod, swatting the little clone up in the air and into the abyss.

Rearing back in anger, the bear swung its paw back towards Valda, baring a mouth of jagged teeth that still dripped with a dark crimson liquid.

A desperate growl built in the back of Soranth’s throat as Valda tried to scramble over the rubble. “No!”

He threw himself forward, heedless of where he was standing, towards the beast’s defenceless back. Despite steeling himself for it, Soranth was still unprepared for the strange warmth of being completely surrounded by the monster’s inky bulk. He was most caught off guard, however, by the bear stumbling to the side in shock at his sudden invasion.

The bear stepped over empty air.

Weightlessness.

The last thing Soranth heard was Valda screaming from the bridge.

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“You have failed me, spy.”

Kobal’s reply echoed in the hushed courtyard. “M—Master?”