A day was dying. And Shadow was dying too. She was lying on rocky ground with her eyes wide open, holding her sword in her right hand. The vast blue sky was looking down at her. It was the evening of the first day of the Ascension. The evening when she was supposed to kill her perfect prey.

The sun was long gone, hidden behind the summit of the Phoenix peak. Such a pity. If it was still peeking into the valley, maybe Shadow still had a chance. I wonder, how could it go so wrong? she thought. Her hands were under her control: she could drag herself, crawling like a wounded animal. But her legs… she did not feel her legs at all. She was lying on her back and looking at the sky, wondering what she should do now? The sky did not bother to answer. A cold lump was growing down at Shadow’s stomach. It was not an effect of poison but rather her emotions. At least she could feel her belly.

A few cold drops fell down on Shadow’s face. However, there was only one small cloud above—it was venturing its way towards the Chipped Mountain and did not look like it could pour rain over the valley. What’s a pity. Shadow would rather drown in a cold stream of rainwater. At least some entertainment. But instead, she had to lie and wait while the poison was slowly taking over her body and turning it into stone.

The poisonous tail of the stone pango pierced her neck from the back. The blow slipped, so the beast did not kill her immediately but instead cut her skin quite deep. The blood was still running. Shadow could feel it from touching her torn skin. Her clothes and rocks around got a crimson tan. Her chances were dying with every moment, and a strange guessing game was the only thing left to her. Was the wound close enough to the spine for the poison to kill her soon? Or could she make it until the sunset? And then, another stone pango will come to bite off her legs? Or perhaps… she could get through the night and see the dawn… and with the light of the sun, the magic poison will dissolve? It was only a glimpse of hope, a shadow, some would say, and it was worse than nothing.

To the one side of her—ran a small mountain river; to the other—a Quite Waterfall sang its soft and sweet song. This was a beautiful place to die in, after all. Charming and wild. Quiet Waterfall lived up to its name. It was a long cascade of rapids, which were only fully filled with water during the rainy season. Its song was calm and relaxing. The last time Shadow was here, it reminded her of a lullaby. Today it sounded like a mourning prayer. What an irony. When she told Spark that she wanted to become a part of a song, it was a different kind of song she had in her mind.

How on earth could this happen to her? Why did she fail so miserably? Years spent training, preparing for the Ascension, preparing for her perfect hunt. She was one of the best sword dancers of her age. She killed two stone pangos hunting with the Storm last autumn. Why did this particular beast happen to be so clever?! She tracked its trail and found the path of dead grass that led her to a deep and dark cave—the lair. She set her trap next to it, using the quail she shot in the morning. She waited patiently, hiding in the bushes, silently and stealthy as only she could. She did everything as Storm taught her. She did everything right… so how could she fail? Why had she never heard that stone pango could also be so patient? It did not get lured by the Shadow’s trap. Instead, it was waiting in its own ambush. When Shadow, tired of waiting, approached her trap to set it off, the pango stroke her with its poisonous tail, precisely in the neck—the worst possible way. She cut its tail and pierced the stone heart with her sword. So she went victorious after all… but with what price?

The taste of stone poison was not new for Shadow. She had tried it before, on purpose to be able to recognize its effect at once if she gets hit by stone pango in the future. Shadow’s brother, Storm, was next to her at that time. They hunted together, killed a stone pango, and Shadow made a small cut on her forearm with a knife smeared with beast’s poison. She did not cut deep and recovered quickly, not like today…

Of course, she knew that hunting stone pango is not an easy task, a dangerous one. Yet she committed to it without a single back thought. The reward was worth the risk—she thought. A new name, strong and prominent, was a perfect trophy for the daughter of the head of the honorable and powerful clan. But did she really deserve it? Shadow never question this… until now.

Gray Shadow Lurking Among Sleeping Trees And Amongst Rustling Grass. Hah! Her current name was a joke. She failed at her first Ascension. She failed today again. Her perfect hunt turned into a disaster. And all the time spent on training was spent in vain. She desired to become a brave warrior like brother Fire Storm. Hah! She will not get a good name today. No, she will not get any name whatsoever! Her life will end most miserably. And she will stay here forever at the site of her grave defeat… Actually, no, who said that? She was expected to return to the Alder camp by the following evening. They will send someone to find her when she doesn’t appear. She never hid where she was going to hunt, and they will find her quickly. They will find her body or, better say, what was left of it. Such a shame. Such a dishonor.

Shadow clearly imagined her father kneeling to her and lifting her humble remains. Then, he will take them back to the camp and bury her on top of the hill, many miles away from home. What will be the look on Spring Thunder’s face when he returns home to tell that story to Soaring Lilly, Shadow’s mother? A story of her daughter’s perfect hunt… pathetic! Will her mother ever be able to smile again after she knows what happened to her beloved but arrogant daughter? Shadow felt overwhelmed with unimaginable grief and hatred that was all devoted to herself.

Why? Why on earth did she choose stone pango for her perfect prey? Damn that name! Let it burn in the hell with all the souls of traitors and cowards. She should have listened to all her friends and her father, who warned her against it. Why did she believe so bluntly that she was going to succeed?

Shadow hit the sones with her fists to feel the pain. She was still alive—but could she change her fate? Maybe… there was another chance for her to prevail. Her friends could save her, yes! If they find Shadow earlier than the predators. But why might they bother looking for her? But why not? Maybe Spark will say something like: “I wonder, how’s Shadow over there?” And Sword will willingly suggest, “Let’s go check out!” “Good idea!” Spark will reply. And Hamster will also say, “Yeah, let’s ramble to that waterfall, it’s getting boring here…” and they will come and find her… maybe. Another glimpse of hope.

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Shadow breathed in and breathed out. She closed her eyes. She will rest just a moment and then drag herself uphill far from the dangerous caves and somewhere where she will have a high rock to protect her back, and her chances of getting it through the night will rise. Breath in and breath out. Shadow relaxed as it seemed, just for a moment. But before she realized it, her wounded body decided to have a real rest, and her consciousness quickly dived into a tense and uneasy slumber.

Her whole life flashed before her eyes, and she saw herself back on today’s morning, just before dawn. She was standing at the edge of the Alder camp, and the dream seemed exceptionally real. She could hear the cracking of campfires and the voices of the night guard, but no one paid attention to her as if she was obviously a ghost. Shadow wandered through the camp until she found her tent, where the other, past Shadow, was checking her bow, arrows, and clothes and preparing to leave the place by the dawn.

Shadow followed herself silently as she headed downhill together with her friends. Everything was happening exactly as she remembered. Clan spears and Spring Thunder himself accompanied them until the river. Soon after crossing it, Sword suggested heading to the west.

“Valleys there are long abandoned and empty. Meaning, we could find a lot of decent prey,” Sword said.

Hamster was not very enthusiastic about that.

“Why go far? The northern slope is just fine. No shepherds, and you can easily find turkan or snap-head.”

“Honestly, I think no one here wants to catch a turkan except you,” Sword shook his head. “And, if you ask me, I think hunting these rock pigs is a waste of your talent too.”

“We can’t help each other. Remember. The rules!”

Shadow hardly recognized her own voice. It was strange to watch herself from aside, but at the same time… enthralling.

Hamster was a specialist on rules, so he immediately disagreed:

“Actually,” he said with a mentoring tone, ”it’s forbidden to help others during the hunt. Second, you have to prepare your place for sleep by yourself. However, no one said that we should go one by one or that we can’t help each other in other ways.”

“Yes, Shadow, it is wise to stay close,” Spark supported him.

I must have listened to her! Shadow stretched forward, and a strange thought came to her head, maybe I can warn myself? Perhaps I can change something? The vision indeed felt too real to be a mere dream. But when she tried to take her own hand, it slid out like a sly fish, and Shadow found herself standing several steps away.

“Do you want to go with me to the Quiet Waterfall?” she heard her voice like it was coming from under the earth.

”Why waterfall?” Hamster was surprised.

”It is the only place in the vicinity of the Chipped Mountain where you can find a stone pango. You see, simple people usually don’t go there, as they are afraid of the phoenix that leaves above the waterfall.”

Simple people don’t usually go there. All her proud nature and arrogant character were heard in this phrase. And it even didn’t sound very kind. Did she really want her friends to feel inferior?

“Nah,” that’s again too far,” Hamster felt bored immediately.

“I would make you a company, but it will indeed take much time,” Sword hesitated. “It means less time for hunting.”

Why didn’t I tell them that I knew a shortcut? Shadow felt surprised. But the reason was apparent: she did not want them to follow her! She looked forward to taking all the credit alone!

“I think we better go to the Dry River, right guys?” Sword made his mind.

“Good plan,” agreed with him Spark.

“As you say,” Hamster sighted but without enthusiasm. Although he was not fond of going far, he obviously way more loathed the idea of wandering around alone.

I need to do something. Shadow felt fear. I have to change something until it’s too late!

Ghost Shadow ran around her friends and tried to look into her own eyes. And she succeeded! For a moment, the eyes of two Shadows met. One of them knew what was waiting for her today and another—did not. Shadow felt like a lightning bolt stroke through her body. It seemed that the past Shadow also noticed her, and the feelings of ghost Shadow were passed to her old copy—the fear echoed deep inside the eyes of her.

The vision faded quickly, and Shadow woke up in her wounded body. She did not know how much time had passed. But it seems not much at all. The valley and the sky looked absolutely the same, except for the small cloud above. It reached the Chipped Mountain and now was hugging with its top.

The main difference was that now Shadow felt thirstier than ever; it felt like her internals turned into an enormous arid desert burned by the sun. Strangely though, Shadow did not feel the heat. Instead, she felt a bitter cold coming from inside. The river was close, and she dragged herself to it and drank the icy water yearningly until she satisfied her thirst. Her clothes became wet, and since the cold was now both inside and outside of her, she started shaking, and her skin began crawling on its own.

Shadow managed to drag herself away from the water for six feet or so before she again fell into an abyss of vivid visions. This time it was an absolute nightmare. She dreamed of being at the bottom of the deep chasm, a dark, disgusting pit crawling with snakes and bugs. And she was crawling together with them, slithering, hissing, clinging to the walls in the desperate hope of finding her way out and seeing the cleansing light. But the snakes turned into the hands that were grabbing her most shamelessly, holding her body, squeezing her neck, breast, and hips. Shadow tried to push them away, to bite off their fingers. And when she did manage to bite some of them, they left her alone, and the vision faded again.

This time Shadow woke up slowly and found herself surrounded by darkness. She thought that was yet another dream, as she heard unfamiliar voices nearby. But when her eyes got used to the dim light, Shadow realized: that it was no dream at all. It was dark, not because of the night but because she woke up in a cave. And while the fact that she was actually alive and could feel her legs was something worth celebrating, she instead felt terror. This terror was deep and dark as the abyss of hell. Lamenting her unfortunate fate, Shadow had forgotten that there were things worse than death. Her arms and ankles were bound tight with ropes. There were indeed other people in the cave—many of them. Strangers were discussing something very loudly and angrily, speaking desert tongue. It became apparent to Shadow that she herself turned into someone's prey.