Flyte had no clue how any spindler-snappers could possibly be sold in Kev's markets. The group hadn't travelled for even one day into the desert, yet they had to have killed dozens of the creatures.

It had, of course, been for good reason. The spindler-snappers seemed to think that the cave lizard and soldiers were meals, and they frequently popped out of the sand to try and take a bite out of them.

Ander Elliot went so far as to turn this into a game. Every time one of them killed a spindler-snapper they earned a point. If someone else killed a snapper, then whoever fails to kill the next one to pop up loses ten points.

Elliot was winning, but not by much. Ander had killed six more of the squid-like beasts, but Elliot slew one after Eris saved the team's cave lizard from losing a chunk of its flesh.

As far as traveling to Atula's scar went, the group was dredging along. Ander had ruled that they would only travel during the night in order to preserve water. Because of the darkness, Flyte was using a cheap spell to pave the way.

Even though the spell was cheap to keep active, Flyte needed a few short breaks every hour.

And it was during one of these breaks that Elliot killed an unfamiliar type of beast.

"Flyte," he started. "Can you help me see this?"

Flyte intentionally slowed his response in an attempt to regain some of his energy. Needless to say, those few seconds were not enough.

"Sure," he said. "Nelar."

The corpse of a yellowish shark-looking creature was illuminated on the ground.

"Ander," Elliot said. "What is that?"

"That, my friend," Yuri addressed instead. "Is a sand shark. They eat spindler-snappers, but they only congregate near the rift, so get ready. Things are about to get much worse for us."

Ander affirmed that with a nod. "Okay," he started commanding. "We'll rest here because this is likely our last chance to have decent time sleeping. Pair up everyone, take two hour watches over each other, We don't need snappers or sharks to kill any of you."

Flyte walked up to Ander. "Hey," he began. "Am I fine to partner up with you?"

"Sorry Flyte," Ander said. "Henry is easily distracted, so I'm going to pair with him. It's not fair for someone else to have to deal with him when I can easily wake up to the vibrations these creatures produce."

"That's fine," Flyte smiled.

"I can pair with you if you want," Elliot said.

"I'd be glad to have you," Flyte responded.

"Okay," Elliot smiled. "I'll take first watch."

Flyte thanked his friend and fell asleep immediately.  

----------------------------------------

Elliot sat down with a sword in his hand as he scanned his surroundings for trace of the monsters that he'd been killing all night.

Seeing nothing, he called for Honorious through the rune on his gauntlet that Flyte etched for him.

"Hello Elliot," Honorious exhaled.

"Hey Honorious," Elliot said. "How are you doing?"

"Well," Honorious answered. "How about you?"

"Honestly," Elliot said. "Not well at all. I feel like there's a war going on within myself. Already, this power within myself is telling me to do unspeakable things and I'm not sure how long I can resist it."

"Do you have any advice?" Elliot asked.

"I'm not sure that I'm the best source for that type of advice," Honorious started. "But I think that you can lean on your friends. This problem won't matter to them as much as you think that it will, but you'll surely reap many benefits from their support."

Elliot smiled melancholically. "You're probably right," he said. "But I'm scared. It probably sounds irrational, but my mind is screaming at me that they'll hate me if I tell them about these intrusive thoughts and feelings."

"They won't" Honorious exhaled somberly. "I know Ander and Flyte well, although I don't know Flyte nearly as well as you. They're simply not the types of people to judge you for your thoughts. Your actions matter more, and look, even I was able to be forgiven."

"I know, I know," Elliot said. "I wish I was stronger or braver though."

"Everyone does" Honorious exhaled. "The truly strong and brave people aren't the ones who seem to be so though. It's the people who are afraid or find themselves inadequate but act anyway."

"If only it were so easy," Elliot said mutedly, noticing sand sharks close in. "Give me a moment Honorious, I've got something to take care of."

Honorious looked at Elliot worriedly but left regardless.

'Now I'm alone again.'

Elliot drew a spear out of his pack and skewered a shark through the sand.

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They were coming in at all angles as they could sense the Flyte was vulnerable.

But none of them would get past Elliot.

Swipe after swipe and slab after stab, Elliot continued to slaughter the sharks and spindler-snappers without allowing any openings.

At least, he did until his spear got stuck in the dying embrace of a spindler-snapper's rigor mortis.

Sharks kept coming closer and closer, unbothered by Elliot's lone sword.

'Shades! what do I do?'

"Draw me out," Elliot's powers whispered. "Otherwise, your friend will die."

And Elliot resigned himself to do so. A shadowy halberd formed in his hands, seemingly pulling itself together from the darkness of the night while black tendrils climbed up Elliots arm and torso.

"Kill, kill, kill!" the blade screamed. Elliot did so. What seemed like a few moments passed, and several dozens of fiendish beasts were laid to rest in the desert sands.

"Now that they're dead, why don't we kill him too?" the shadows asked. Elliot considered it.

Ander then he immediately felt disgust at himself. "No," he said. "Never."

"Why not?" the shadow asked. "He controls the light. We are made of the darkness. He's our enemy."

"Flyte's no enemy of mine," Elliot answered vehemently. "I don't care if he'd treat me differently if he knew about you, which I think you're wrong about by the way. I always be a friend to Flyte."

"That's a lot of dead beasts," Ander said, standing behind Elliot, and carrying a sleeping Henry. "But I thought I told you not to use your shadows."

The shadow morphed Elliots understanding of Ander's words. "I told you that he would hate you once he met me," it seemed to say.

'It doesn't matter,' Elliot thought back. 'He's probably right to anyway.'

"You're right," Elliot said, letting the halberd fade. With it, his stamina vanished too. Yawning, he sat down.

"I guess it doesn't matter that much," Ander said. "As long as both of you are fine, it's alright."

"Both of us," Elliot questioned.

"Of course," Ander said, shocked. "Look, I know that I spend more time with Flyte, but you're also one of my closest friends Elliot."

'Looks like I'm the one who was right,' Elliot thought toward his shadow.

"We'll see," it seemed to reply.

"Ander," Elliot began. "We need to talk."

"Sounds good to me," Elliot's friend said.

----------------------------------------

As he and his army travelled through the overcast desert in the morning, Ander worried for his two newest friends. One was unhealthily exhausting himself through use of spells and the other was dealing with such a ruinous problem that Ander had no clue how to help or console him.

On top of that, Ander still had many more to lead. His placement as leader greedily stole his time, giving him little of it to help his friends. Flyte's issue was further worsened because his magic would be increasingly more neccessary the father they went into the rift. Even with that, Elliot's issue was much worse.

Elliot's power or possessor had no name, no history, and, as far as Ander knew, no cure.

Still, Ander would try. If Elliot needed comfort, he would get it. If he needed some resource deep inside the demesne of a mountain, Ander would tear that mountain apart until he found it. If the only way for Elliot to find peace was past an honorsoul, Ander would gladly fight that honorsoul to achieve it for him.

If only either of them knew what to do.

"What can I do?" Ander thought aloud. "For all of my fears of being a monster, I really am just a small, insignificant man."

"Well," Eris said as she seemed to pop out of thin air. "I don't know if you're just a man, Ander. After all, killing an eviscerator is supposed to be a job for a small, well equipped army, and you took one down alone. Perhaps your problem is one that you just need to stop and think about."

"I don't think so," Ander said.

Eris walked up to Ander, grabbed his stone hand, and asked: "do you want to tell me about it?"

"Sure" Ander said. "Imagine that you are travelling in a group with a hundred, uh, nomads. You have a unique gift, but the gift is slowly poisening your mind, telling you to do horrible things. You don't want todo these things, but the curse is weakening your resolve."

"Now imagine that you are instead one of that person's few friends who's close enough for them to confide in. What do you do?"

"Now that is a hard one," Eris admitted.

"Right?" Ander exclaimed.

"But," she added. "I would begin by comforting my friend. Even with this curse, they are dear to me. I would build a support group for them, that way they can always reach out to someone when they need help."

"Perhaps," she continued. "My influence could combat the curse's like in a storybook for children, but in any case, my friend would likely be hhappier until the end of their days with that help than without it."

"Fair," Ander frowned. "But a bit bleak."

"Or," Eris squeezed Ander's hand. "You could ask your godly friend how to heal him."

"Oh yeah!" Ander said. "How did I not think of that?"

Ander extricated his hand from Eris's carefully, so as to not hurt her in his excitement. "Thank you so much, my love," he said before kissing Eris on the cheek and running off to find Flyte.

After a short run, Ander found Flyte reading a letter in the wagon.

"You wouldn't believe how fast these things fly, Ander," Flyte said as he looked up.

"Flyte," Ander said. "I need to send a message to Ontin as soon as physically possible."

"Yeah, that'll be fine," Flyte said, handing Ander a paper and pencil. "Perfect timing honestly. You can write your letter to him while I write one to my friends there."

"Sounds great," Ander said as he rushed to write his letter.

When he finished explaining Elliot's issue in length and his few ideas as to how to solve it, Ander began to seal his letter. A glance to the side showed that Flyte had already tied his rolled latter up to Hahlow and was waiting for Ander to do likewise.

"Flyte!" Ander exclaimed, startling the bird but not the boy. "Did you not write anything?"

"What?" Flyte asked. "Of course I did. You just write slow is all."

"Show me your writing then," Ander demanded, his pride dependent on the result.

And, of course, Flyte's writing was both quicker and more elegant than Ander's.

"Didn't you live on a farm for your whole life?" Ander asked.

"Yeah," Flyte admitted. "But my adoptive father stressed the importance of knowing how to rad and write. Also, drawing my summoning runes requires exactness, and I have a lot of experience drawing them in stressful situations with non-optimal writing utensils."

"Still...," Aner complained.

"Look," Flyte exhaled. "If there's a shape that I need to draw, I can do it. Show me some of your writing."

Ander wrote, again slower and less beautifully. When his pencil left the paper, Flyte wrote the same sentence.

The result was unbelievable. Every single letter that Ander wrote was perfectly replicated by Flyte to the smallest impurity.

"There," Flyte said. "Is it more believable that I can write well now?"

"Yep," Ander swallowed, somewhat terrified. "I have so many questions."

"Not now," Flyte said. "We've got to send this letter."

"Do you know what we could do with this gift of yours?" Ander asked.

"No," Flyte answered.

"Well," Ander started. "It's a lot of things." No door would hold them out when they had a permissive letter written by the leader who governed their destination. On a more legal note, any massive notices that anyone needed sent out could now be made twice as fast, or faster.

"Wait," Ander said. "Does this mean that you can also draw exceptionally?"

Flyte's only response was a coy smile as he sent Hahlow on his way.

"No way," Ander said. "That's insane." he looked around at the dwindling supply of paper. "We need to get you more paper."

"Oh, please do," Flyte said. "I barely have enough for two more letters."

"Next town," Ander promised.

The small distraction made things seem a little bit better. All that he had to do now was wait for Ontin's response.