For such a massive creature, its snores were oddly quiet.

Stepping around the Caravan Bear’s right paw, I scanned the surrounding forestry while I headed for the rotting log.

I had allowed the bear to stop and rest even though it hadn’t even been a full day since leaving RiftLake. Like all Caravan Bears, it fell asleep immediately after drinking from the nearby river. It was one of the odd traits of the creatures. Always sleeping. They’ve even been found to walk while they slept, somehow.

The positive of them being so lethargic, made them both not very dangerous and easy to maintain. The negative was they slept all the time, and it was difficult to raise them from their slumbering.

Great beasts of burden, if you didn’t mind taking your time.

“Maybe that’s why their meat tastes so bad,” I wondered as I dropped my bag next to the rotting log.

Although surrounded by dense forest, this was the only place to sit anywhere around here. Other than the beast itself… although it’d not mind at all if I sat upon it as it slept, I didn’t want to be too close to it any more than I should be.

After all, strapped to its back firmly was a large stone.

Sitting down, before I pulled over my bag and opened it… I scanned the ever growing darker forest around me.

The sun hadn’t fully set, but it was low enough that most of the forest had entered its graceful darkness. Soon not even the bright colors from the Rift would be able to penetrate its thick treetops.

A good thing too, since even through the thick leather the magical stone’s glow could be seen.

I had hoped, and planned, on the stone’s glow not being a problem. How stupid I was, to not have realized it.

One could probably bury the stone hundreds of feet beneath rock and swamps, and its glow could still be seen from a distance. Magic just didn’t care for the natural world around it. Even though we had wrapped it thrice over with pelts and leather, the cobweb looking strands still filtered out around it. Glowing lightly and becoming somewhat brighter as the world got darker.

“Magic,” I cursed lightly and pulled my bag closer.

No one was nearby. Even though we weren’t too far from RiftLake, a busy trading town for the north, I was far from any trade routes.

There were no villages, or parishes. Not even any hunter lodges were found here.

We were too close to the Rift after all.

Humans were becoming very numerous around the Rift. Especially compared to when I first had crossed the Rift all those years ago. But thanks to the inherent dangers and magic that the Rift produced, the areas directly near the Rift were as desolate as ever.

Although sometimes brave, and sometimes stupid, humans had yet to start living directly upon the Rift. Maybe in time they would, once they came to further comprehend the rules and laws of the Rift… but until then…

I’d use their fear to my advantage as long as I could.

Although I suppose RiftWarren was drawing close to the Rift… But most of those sections were the slums.

Nonetheless humans avoided the Rift as much as they could. Until they dared to cross it, or scour it for wealth and power. And the number of humans brave enough to even consider such a thing were few and far in-between.

They liked to pretend many of them dared the Rift all the time, but the truth was only a handful tried a month.

Still I couldn't be too relaxed. There were so many humans. Countless humans, really. They always were everywhere, somehow. Which meant although they didn’t traverse these areas, actively avoided them, and I’ve never seen any here before… didn’t mean I wouldn’t.

Not to mention, the one thing humans had that we powers didn’t, was their willing drive to risk it all.

My eyes scanned the forest once again, but it didn’t take long for them to return to staring at the wrapped stone.

The Caravan Bear had not enjoyed being conjoined with the rock. Though that was partly because of the methods that Momma of the Lake had utilized. She didn’t just wrap and strap it; she had ordered a pair of metalworkers to actually nail the straps to the beast itself. Large and long bars of metal had been used to pierce the thick hide of the bear, as to create spots to clamp and tie to.

Thanks to its thick red fur, I couldn’t see them. But I knew half a dozen bars, each the length of my arm, ran along both of its sides. The thing’s thick skin and the tightness of the leather straps were what held it all in place.

It wasn’t completely uncommon for such a thing. Many Caravan Bears had similar things done to them, but it was usually done when they were young and given proper care and attention.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Momma of the Lake had entirely planned and presumed that this would be this creature’s one and only trip.

Hopefully it’d not be mine as well.

Pulling my attention away from the rock and the creature, I opened the large bag at my feet. It was my only bag for this trip, and I was glad for it. The rock was luggage enough.

Although it was full, of this and that, it didn’t take long for me to find one of the fruits.

I rolled it in my hand as I closed the bag back up, and I felt the bumpy ridges all along the surface of the black fruit. The thing felt smooth, but hard.

The things cold hardness made me think of preserved meat. It had both the same texture and the smell of such sticks of meat I usually ate on long journeys.

Such meat was a staple on long treks… yet this wasn’t. Nor was it something I planned on eating.

I dropped the fruit onto the log next to me, and noticed the sound it made as it bounced. Hollow, but not.

Soon I’d hold it in front of the Caravan Bear’s nose, to both rouse it and feed it.

How such a tiny, hand-sized fruit, was enough food for such a large creature baffled me. But I knew it wasn’t the fruit itself that it enjoyed and lived off of.

It was the orange nectar within.

Caravan Bears loved this stuff so much they’d walk right off a tall cliff if you tossed one over in front of it.

It wasn’t just the beasts of burden, however.

Everyone loved the taste of the orange nectar, to the point where you could now find it in most stalls and restaurants along the Rift. At first I figured it was something that humans enjoyed. An acquired taste, maybe… But it didn’t take long for these fruits to become popular with my kind as well.

Which was why it was a shock that I didn’t like them at all.

The fruit smelled fine. But the moment the thing was cracked open, and its contents were released, I would find myself losing any and all appetite I had. Or would have, for the next few hours.

Even when I force myself to ignore the smell, and take a taste, all it did was make me sick. It was like eating dirt.

The humans enjoying it, I could understand. We were different.

But then why did my kind love them too?

It meant I was the weird one.

I’d blame it on me being a RiftBorn, but that was somehow worse than just being weird. The fruit originally came from inside the Rift… so why the hell did I hate the taste of it? If anything I should be the one to love it, and everyone else should find it disgusting.

To add insult to injury, Caravan Bears were creatures found here in the human lands. There weren’t any to be found in the Land of Powers. Especially none in the Rift.

So even a beast of burden could enjoy the spoils of the Rift, yet I couldn’t. It was almost ironic.

Almost.

A tiny snort came from the creature, and with a glance I watched one of its massive claws curl ever so slightly. One of the longer nails dug into the green earth as it sleepily shifted.

“Wonder if the stone gives bad dreams.”

Magic, for all its power and affects to the world… didn’t do much in its natural state.

It produced wind. Colors appeared in the air. Sometimes one would even feel wet while in the presence of magic, even though there was no moisture to be found… Yet other than such things, magic didn’t seem to be poisonous.

Or… well… The presence of it wasn’t.

Concentrated rocks of magic, however, were another story.

We hadn’t just wrapped it to stave off the bright lights it made, after all.

Even through the stone was relatively pure, it was still condensed magic. Since it wasn’t corrupted, there was no risk of dying just by being near it… but that didn’t mean long exposure to it was healthy.

Touching it wasn’t a problem either. But sticking close to the rock for extended periods of time… That was the problem. Or at least, one of my current worries.

The bear, although somewhat safe thanks to the wrapping of the stone… and its very thick fur and hide… would eventually start feeling the effects of the stone. Just because of the proximity of it.

Studying the bear as it shifted again, I knew it wasn’t just from bad dreams. The poor animal was probably uncomfortable.

Pain? Possibly. Even though it no longer seemed bothered by the bars of metal pierced into its sides, I knew the proximity to the stone was more painful than those.

In fact it was probably because of the stone that it had gotten over those metal bars being implanted so quickly. Either the magic had helped heal it, or was causing a more intense pain elsewhere.

But was the pain physical, or mental in nature? That was the question. Magic didn’t always hurt the body, after all.

Something stepped on some thick grass nearby, and my eyes zoned in onto it. A tall pair of blank eyes stared back, as the forest elk studied me.

No.

Not me.

I followed the elk’s gaze, and my first instinct was to assume it was staring at the bear. But I knew better. After all, in the wild, Caravan Bears were pure herbivores. They weren’t like the bears in the Rift, or even those found in the Lands of Powers, which hunted just as well as they fed on foliage.

Here in the lands of humans, these bears were harmless. Especially to the other wildlife.

It instead was staring at the stone. Wide-eyed, transfixed. It was so focused; if I had been a hunter then I could have walked right up to it and slit its throat.

For a very long moment the elk stood there, staring at the stone. As it did, I slowly began to notice the rest. Another elk wasn’t too far behind it, standing a little lopsided as it peered around a tree to stare at the rock.

Some kind of bird was near the elk a few trees away. Perched on a low branch, it made me wonder if it had been there this entire time. I hadn’t once heard its wings, or its cry.

Slowly standing, I strained my eyes to scan the dark forest surrounding me. Even though I couldn’t make out each and every creature… I could see their eyes. Glistening. Staring.

All around us, three dozen or more pairs of eyes could be seen in the darkness.

It was almost eerie.

Somehow it was more unnerving to witness such a thing, when one wasn’t the cause of it.

Not a one of them cared for me. Or even noticed me.

All they saw was the stone.

And that was what worried me.