Although we were reborn as new men and women on Idroa, our pasts eventually caught up with us. Some of us took it in our stride, others not so much.

Wilfrid Pember - Historian- The Start of the Apocalypse

____

Silas leaned across the table, tracing his finger over the cheap but firm cloth. There were several rips in it from his botched attempts but he was now getting the hang of the new runes: he knew from the tutorial it was simply a matter of practice.

Olivia lay on the bed, eyes open. Before this, she had spent some time staring out of the window, and he was grateful she hadn’t commented on the broken lock as he still didn’t know how to explain his relationship with the peculiar owl. Then again, she hadn’t said much in general, and they had spent most of their time together in silence. It had been awkward at first, especially as it felt like they had words for each other, but the discomfort had worn off with time.

His mind drifting out of focus, he wondered whether he should start carrying around a notepad like Iris did. Since it was now obvious it was his drawing ability holding him back, it only made sense to practise whenever he could to improve at it. He had enjoyed art in school as well, so the idea didn’t sound too bad. Suddenly, the cloth ripped under his finger and interrupted his thought-track.

Sighing, he pushed it away and turned to see a purple haze had taken the sky, indicating more hours had passed than he had assumed. It was strange as he had thought his track of time had improved with his perception, but it appeared he could still get absorbed in a task. “I’m going to get dinner,” he said aloud, “Anything you want?”

As usual, he had to wait several heartbeats for her reply. “Can I come with you?”

Not expecting that response, he halted in putting his gambeson on as his thoughts whirred. But then again, what was there to think about? “Sure.”

Exiting the room into the hallway, she surprised him once more by speaking without being prompted. “You’ve changed,” she said, her voice subdued as if she feared him lashing out.

He wondered where the comment came from but then recalled the incident with the redguard. “We’ve all changed. It’s been half a year since I’ve seen you - it would be weird if I was still the same person.”

“I am,” she said in a rush, before lowering her voice again. “I’m still the same person as before.” She sniffled, and he feared for the worst, but she managed to keep herself together.

For the first time in a while, he faced her and really looked at her, trying to glimpse at her soul. While her eyes were wet, as always, her lips formed a stiff line, frosted with dead skin, and her brows curved defiantly about her eyes. Although she dropped her gaze at his scrutiny, he could see the inkling of a desperate desire for change on her face in between the overwhelming misery surrounding it.

“Just before we were drafted into the tutorial,” he started, hooking her attention, “I was on a bridge looking down at the dark waters. I was going to jump, you know, jump and end it all. But I was too scared, so I walked away until I came to a church where I saw a homeless man sleeping outside, probably a beggar.” He paused, “So I robbed him.”

She gasped, and he chuckled at her response.

“Why do you think Johnny drove me away all those months ago? He suspected for a long time and he was right, I had been stealing from you lot. But that’s the point, I hated myself and I had to change, else I would have gladly leapt off the bridge in a month’s time. So I took the biggest risks during the tutorial and it paid off; I could have died several times over, but it didn’t matter as I had already been a dead man walking.” He had thought admitting the truth would lift a weight off his chest, but it instead pulled at his heart and quickened his breath.

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She didn’t respond for some time, not while they bought gyros, not while they walked back, and not while they re-entered the room. He had given up on a response, when finally she gulped down a mouthful and spoke. “I didn’t know.” He almost laughed at how underwhelming her reply was before she continued. “I was Johnny’s little slut, and I knew all along he was just using me to keep himself above the rest. I never liked it, you know, but it was better than having nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep at night. I thought I could change myself in the tutorial.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “But I couldn’t, and I ended up where I began.”

This time it was him who was lost for words, not so much out of shock as much as he simply didn’t know how to reply. Was he even supposed to reply? It took him some time to realise, given her miserable state, that the correct answer was yes. “Well, I’ll be here for a while, so you can stay here and rest up if you like.” He stopped short of promising anything else.

Night crept slowly but surely across the sky and they both hit the sack, sharing the king-sized bed but lying apart from each other. Her skeletal hand brushed against his stomach and caressed its way down when he caught it and flung it back. “Don’t,” he said with quiet reproach, and she stiffened and submerged her face into her pillow.

Ignoring her, he dived into his thoughts and heard her softly snoring an hour or so later. Finally, he entered a meditative state and allowed himself to drift to sleep. However, perhaps predictably, his rest was interrupted as something soft and ticklish brushed against his face. Punching out, he woke with a start and jumped out of bed.

Bandit casually blocked his fist and stared at him. It turned to Olivia’s sleeping body and cocked its head, shuttering its electric eyes curiously.

Why is it your business who I sleep with?, Silas thought, but he still answered. “She’s a friend.”

This sated the owl’s curiosity and Bandit hopped onto the footboard leg and perched there.

“Don’t you have, I don’t know, hunting to do at night?” he asked, knowing it would watch him all night if he didn’t intervene.

Raising its massive wings, Bandit shrugged.

“You heard of privacy then? Letting people sleep without watching them?”

The owl promptly shook its head. Not a clue what that is, sir, it seemed to say. If it hadn’t been dark, he would have seen its face pinching up with glee. Unfortunately, he didn’t, and he instead dumped himself into bed. He did, however, hear the tittering that followed.

****

The morning came soon enough and Silas found himself back in Jane’s office, sitting opposite to her.

“I’ve assigned you to the 3rd elite platoon for this fight,” she said. “Harlan’s a good leader; he’ll take you through everything you need to know.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t comment. Perhaps it was his ego speaking, but he found it surprising that he was in the 3rd platoon: did that mean he was too weak for the 1st and 2nd?

She clearly picked up on his thoughts, but only gave him a knowing smile as an answer. “Also, about your little incident in the market square, it’s all been sorted now so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Right, cheers,” he replied curtly. He doubted she had punished the pockmarked redguard, but it was all good as long as the man stayed out of his way. “Should I get going now or…” He paused as he heard a heavy footfall approaching the door, followed by firm knocking.

“Come in,” called Jane, and a rugged man armed for combat came through. “Good morning, Harlan.”

“Morning, ma’am,” Harlan replied, “You must be Silas.” They greeted each other, and Silas read from the rugged man’s aura that Harlan boasted great power and toughness. He strode out of the room as quick as he came, his boots clacking on the floor, and he beckoned the Duellist to follow. “I’ll fill you in on the way. We’ve got a lot to do at the field if we’re to survive today.”

____

Shamblers are terrifying creatures from Xiivet. Because of their seething hatred towards the light, they are nocturnal and rest in their dark and damp lairs during the day. If you suspect that you’re near a shambler lair, leave at once. Even the drakkar are wary of shamblers and keep away from them when they can.

If you’ve ignored my advice and decided to engage the shambler anyway, know that it’ll aim to snuff out all sources of light on first contact. Next, know that its fetid stench will wring your stomach into a ragged towel, and that its screech is piercing enough to blow your eardrums out. Although they move slowly, they have a dozen jagged tentacles that can quickly stretch over ten metres if needed. Each of these is strong enough to pick up a grown man and rip his limbs off.

If you manage to shine a light at them long enough to take in their appearance, you’ll see a truck-sized mass of muscle wearing creased, leathery black skin. Its main features are its cavernous maws filled with serrated teeth and sloshing with caustic saliva, and its dozen tentacles. The mottled skin above its mouth holds its pin-sized eyes, which are incredibly sensitive to light…

Lavanya Sanghvi - the Monster Bane - Adventurer’s Guide to Surviving the Idroan Wilderness