It didn’t take long for the pythian tree to get on Callan’s bad side. No matter how long he walked, it stubbornly refused to get any closer. Based on its size, he’d assumed it would have been looming overhead before too long.

Which at the very least, would have been nice for the shade.

Sweat was dripping down Callan’s back, making his velak injury itch something crazy. The water from his bottle lasted through a total of three enormous gulps before it was gone, leaving him with little to do beyond try to shake the last stubborn drops at the bottom onto his parched tongue.

Are you alright, human? Your endurance levels seem... lacking.

“Of course they’re lacking. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. About the only time I saw anything approaching a desert was when I visited my cousins.” Callan shuddered at the memory. He’d been seven, and so excited listening to his father describe his hometown. The little community of Othello sounded completely different from what Callan had grown up seeing. There would be farms, and tractors, and maybe even cows! To his poor seven-year-old mind, it sounded like the grandest adventure ever.

Seeing the rapid change of landscape from one side of the Cascades to the other was admittedly rather amazing, but he hadn’t been ready for what the weather in mid-July had in store for him. Seattle occasionally got hot in the summer, but it was nothing like the blast furnace that waited for him when he stepped out of the car.

His psychotic cousins were just the icing on the cake of that whole experience.

Technically, this isn’t a desert, Xeph noted dryly. There’s too much rainfall during the cooler months. Then, torrential floods will pour through the canyons and lightning storms will scour the landscape above. Another reason proximity to a pythian tree is preferred by many inhabitants.

“Not really helping, Xeph.” Callan squinted at the horizon. Okay, the tree was definitely closer now, he could make out more details, could see the way its roots broke the surface of the ground all around it.

Also, there was a smear of darker color a bit to its right, leaving a blot on the otherwise unblemished skyline. A village?

That’s a village, Xeph said, echoing Callan’s thoughts. He felt his steps lighten at the god’s words.

Or was that his head?

The horizon wavered and danced in front of him. Callan frowned, blinked, and looked again. The dancing was more erratic than before.

No, it was definitely his head. Probably the lack of water, if he had to guess. He tried increasing his steps, but his legs refused to move at more than a glacial pace. This really was turning into the trip to Othello all over again.

Even with the heat, he had still been excited to visit, in the way that only a naive seven-year-old can be. His cousin Jared, who was fifteen at the time, told his parents he was going to take Callan around and show him the sights.

The “sights” in nowhere-burg turned out to be an excuse to go looking for rattlesnakes. They wandered for two hours through barren wilderness without seeing so much as a single one, and as Callan’s city legs steadily failed him, he had fallen further and further behind. Eventually Jared disappeared from view, not even once checking if his young charge had managed to keep up.

Hot, thirsty, and cranky, Callan made for an irrigation ditch to soak his feet and splash some water on his face. And then it happened. A rattlesnake lay coiled near the water’s edge, and even having never heard one before, Callan’s heart nearly stopped as the snake let out its signature warning.

He’d stayed frozen in place, the water tantalizingly close yet impossibly out of reach for almost an hour. At some point the snake had slithered off, but not knowing where it was Callan didn’t realize. He was only saved from dehydration and sun exposure when his father came looking for him with his cousin in tow.

And who got in trouble for that whole near-death experience? Not Jared, far as he knew. Only Callan, for “wandering off” while his cousin was watching him. Total BS. From there, the trip had only gotten worse.

Yeah, and his aunt and uncle wondered why he didn’t like to visit them anymore.

A rock suddenly loomed in Callan’s path. He attempted to step past it, but his sluggish feet were barely obeying him anymore. The toe of his shoe caught on the top and he went sprawling to the ground. A dull moan slipped past his lips.

Mortal, are you alright?

“Guh.” Callan managed.

I think you may be suffering from the effects of dehydration.

“Muh.”

We need to find water, or we’ll never make that village.

“Fuh.”

Stand up, mortal! You can do this! Oh, why didn’t I have you place more points into Fortitude? No, never mind that now. Stand!

Not wasting any further breath on talking, Callan pressed upon the dusty soil and lurched to his feet. His vision had gone so blurry he could barely tell where he was walking, but with Xeph’s encouragement he managed to get one foot in front of the other. Then again. And again.

He wasn’t sure how long he stumbled along like that. Time had sort of lost meaning. However, the next time he managed to steady his vision enough to look for the village, it didn’t appear to be any closer. He was never going to make it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to.

STOP! Xeph’s screech sounded like grinding boulders in his ear. There, to the left, human, do you see it?

Callan turned slowly. Blinked. Tried to focus his eyes on the sudden splash of green in his vision. It wasn’t much, but out here where everything was shades of gold and brown beneath a lilac sky, the green stood out like a flashing neon sign. How he hadn’t noticed before, he had no idea.

The green wriggled and split into two. Callan blinked again as a wave of dizziness almost dropped him.

Oh right. That.

He made it to the edge of the greenery before collapsing, which turned out to be a clump of reedy grass about as tall as he was. Pushing his way between two long stalks, Callan almost broke down in tears for what he found.

Water. No more than a foot deep, but it was clear and sparkling and looked like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Small fish darted away to hide among the reeds at his approach, and several large stones jutted out from beneath the surface, but for the moment his focus was entirely on what lay inches from his lips.

Water. Precious, precious water.

“Oh, thank God.”

You’re welcome, Xeph said with a note of smug satisfaction. Callan ignored him. Practically dunking his whole head, he swallowed one huge gulp after another, until his stomach felt like it might burst. The water’s restorative effect was immediate, and already Callan’s head felt clearer.

“I’d better fill my canteen,” he said, reaching back for his pack. A loud snort froze him in place.

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“...Xeph?”

Yes mortal?

“Please tell me that was you.”

Unfortunately, it was not.

Slowly, Callan looked up. Perhaps twenty feet away on the opposite side of the pond, two black eyes stared back at him from between the reeds. The eyes began to rise until they towered above the grass, revealing the rest of their owner.

In that moment, Callan was seven all over again. The pond was the irrigation ditch, and here he was frozen with fear, barely able to even make himself breathe.

Unfortunately, unlike the time with the rattlesnake, he could very much see the monstrous beast looming over him. And it could very much see him.

It looked as if someone had taken a goat and stretched it to be about ten feet long, and maybe half again as wide. Patchy hair covered most of its body, and its legs rippled with muscles. A trio of horns speared out from its snout, their tips level with the animal’s eyes.

Those eyes, which had been studying him curiously until this moment, now narrowed in anger, apparently not liking what they were seeing.

Ah! Xeph said suddenly, and a feeling of euphoria flooded through Callan that he didn’t personally share at the moment. Now I remember! That, mortal, is a dvorak. A wild one, anyway, and quite a healthy specimen.

“What, this thing is a dvorak?” With the god’s words, Callan paralysis had been broken, and he began backing up. The dvorak matched each step with one of its own, slowly working its way around the pond. “That’s not a ‘beast of burden’, Xeph. That’s a rhino with a glandular problem!”

I don’t know what either of those words mean.

“It’s—gah!” Callan dove out of the way as the dvorak charged. It wasn’t particularly fast, so he guessed it was more testing the waters than truly attacking. Even so, it tore up the ground with its feet as it charged past, kicking up dust and leaving him coughing.

“What should I do?” he asked, climbing to his feet as the dvorak made a wide circle.

Hmm. It would probably be best not to engage directly, given your physical inadequacies and lack of training with Mountainform—

“Yeah, I already kind of figured punching it would be a bad idea.”

—So perhaps attempt to waylay it while you withdraw. The dvorak is likely just defending its territory, and it should not pursue once you reach a certain distance. They aren’t predators, just heavily reliant on their size for intimidation.

Callan watched the approaching dvorak warily. “Consider me properly intimidated. That thing is built like a Sherman tank.”

Activating his orison, he directed the glowing sphere to the maximum range of his ability. Gripping the invisible putty between his fingers, he watched the dvorak for any sign of an impending charge.

The beast snorted, then leapt forward at lightning speed. Callan felt the briefest moment of vindication—the beast had been testing him earlier—before it entered the circle of his orison.

Callan thrust the stone upward like he’d done with the steps, hoping to trip the dvorak as it passed.

Alert: 4.75% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 4.75%

Take this, you overgrown—

Nothing happened. No stone formations, no rising barricade. The ground didn’t even wriggle.

Damn.

That was all the time he had to consider his failure. The next moment, he was flying through the air, the whole world tilted sideways, the very air punched out of his lungs.

He didn’t really feel the impact until the ground reasserted itself, and then the pain washed over him so completely he almost blacked out. This must be what getting hit by a truck felt like.

Human! You need to stand up! It’s coming back!

With a cough, he pushed himself off the ground. His whole chest was on fire, yet he didn’t think anything was broken.

Definitely hurt, though.

“Why didn’t that work?” he managed to wheeze, climbing to his feet.

There isn’t enough stone. Only small rocks mixed into the soil, which is primarily composed of—

“I know what soil is, thanks!” Callan braced as the dvorak charged him again, then activated Mountainform. It was better than nothing.

Alert: 9.5% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 14.25%

Remember, we don’t need to defeat it. Just render it unable or unwilling to follow. Xeph’s words rasped like sandpaper in his ear. Callan didn’t waste the breath necessary to respond.

Then the dvorak was looming over him. Callan twisted, trying to avoid a direct hit. At the same time, he swung a stone-encrusted fist at the beast’s head in a wide haymaker.

Between his evasion to the side and his swing, he managed to turn the dvorak away—but only barely. Instead of striking him head on, it only clipped his shoulder with the side of its snout.

But that was enough. Pain lanced through Callan again, and he heard a distinct crunch before being spun around. Something was definitely broken now, or at least sprained.

Mortal!

“I’m fine, Xeph. I think.” Pressing a hand to his shoulder. He couldn’t feel much with Mountainform still coating his fingers, but given he could still move his arm, albeit painfully, he was going to go with just sprained. “Not sure I can take another hit like that, though.”

Then best make sure it doesn’t strike you.

“Easier said than done. That beast is fast.” Callan glanced around, but there was nothing to use his Shape Stone on. Just dirt and sand—wait, did sand count as a rock? No time to test it now, though—and the swaying reeds by the pond.

The pond!

Turning, he ran for the water’s edge, even as the dvorak growled and charged after. Reaching it, he jumped, landing near the middle with a splash.

The water reached up to his kneecaps here, and fish darted away in flashes of silver as he waded amongst them. Turning around, Callan got a full view of the dvorak bearing down on him. He started backpedaling.

With a resounding crash, the beast hit the water. The foot or so it treaded through didn’t slow it much, but it was enough. Callan reached out with his orison and grabbed a nearby rock. The moment the dvorak stepped near it, he twisted his hands, flowing the stone around the creature’s hoof.

Alert: 4.75% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 19%

The dvorak snorted and came to a halt. Lifting its leg from the water, it attempted to shake the stone loose.

This gave Callan ample opportunity to repeat the attack. A second rock enclosed around one of the dvorak’s back hoofs as well.

Alert: 4.75% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 23.75%

Careful! Xeph warned. Any higher and you risk activating quarantine protocols.

Callan didn’t respond. That would just have to be enough. Turning, he scrambled to the opposite shore of the pond and leapt onto dry land.

Behind him, the dvorak let out an angry trumpeting noise, but a glance over his shoulder showed the beast was still engaged trying to free its legs from their new anchors. A wild grin crawled up Callan’s face. It looked as if he’d won.

Not that he intended to slow down anytime soon, of course.

In fact, he didn’t stop running until his legs physically gave out on him, dropping him to the ground. Xeph called out something, but the words were garbled, and Callan was too focused on getting his ragged breathing under control.

When he finally managed to look around, the pond was nowhere in sight, but the village he’d spotted earlier was noticeably closer. Climbing back to his feet, he started weaving unsteadily in that direction.

Between the fight with the dvorak and the madcap run after, he felt worse than he had before he’d managed to snag a drink. His throat was dry as sandpaper, and his spit was thick as jelly. It was all he could do to even swallow.

Almost there, mortal. Almost there. Just one foot in front of the other.

“Callan... Name’s.... Callan.” Any further words were impossible. His voice simply refused to cooperate.

Yes, yes. Concentrate on moving forward and save the talking for later.

Assuming there’ll be a later, Callan muttered to himself grumpily, but the thought was sluggish and difficult to finish. Was the village any closer? He couldn’t tell, it was wavering and splitting in his vision so much. He just hoped he was going in the right direction.

Step. Step. Step. He concentrated on his feet, watching them move slowly forward at a shuffle, then a slow plod. Each inch gained was more difficult than the last.

He checked on his progress again. The village was close, but still horribly out of reach. Callan tried to move another foot forward, only to instead find his face pressed into the dirt. It seemed this was as far as he would go.

“Gotta... move...” He reached a hand towards the village. The houses were quaint things of unpainted wood, their roofs thatched with some unfamiliar material. From the doorway of one of them he saw a person step outside, pause, then begin hurrying in his direction. “Almost... there...”

Mortal? Mortal! Callan!

“Gotta... Gotta...” The person stopped beside him and lowered themselves into a crouch. In Callan’s wavering vision, the girl looking at him with a worried expression seemed to have two heads and four arms. Callan blinked, but his vision didn’t improve. It wavered more, the colors bleeding, separating, reforming. He blinked again, then closed his eyes.

Rest. He just needed a few minutes rest. Then he’d move again.

Just a few minutes rest...