He didn’t know how much time had passed. He heard only the drips of condensed water into the still pool of water below. He saw nothing in the perfect night which covered his world. He touched only his knees on the coarse fur of the mat beneath him.

He felt everything.

Rane was close to a breakthrough; that, he was sure of. He thought during his time floating down the river that he may need to rethink his vision of what it meant to be ‘in control’ of the ambient around him.

A river did not need to follow any specific pattern in order to sweep him away, so why should he need to specifically circulate his.

Well, for one, he was not a river, and it most certainly made things easier. He did not think that it would be possible for one to begin to get a grasp on ambient control without first focusing on making the state of the natural ambient predictable.

The leaf in the stream was not carried away because it was held specifically. It was carried away because all of the water in the stream belonged to its bed, flowing forever downhill.

Rane breathed deeply in and out through his nose. His area of direct control had actually grown slightly since his meditation began. How long that had been, he did not know. It could not have been too long, as he was not hungry again yet. This place was strange, though. It was so easy to focus here.

Rane exhaled and began his next attempt. With his eyes open in the dark, he could feel several small rocks at the bottom of the pool that surrounded him. He would try to bring them to the surface without changing the natural flow of ambient within the chamber.

First, he had to focus on that flow, though, even calling it a flow was a bit of a stretch. Most ambient was still, only drifting around ever so slightly, like smoke in a room with no open doors. People made ambient move around themselves, and so ambient in cities had a bit of flow. Ambient in the wilds was generally quite stagnant in comparison. In a small and now irrelevant discovery, Rane assumed this was likely the reason that their breakthrough to classient needed to be in isolation.

But that did not matter at the moment. He could not allow himself to be distracted by the particular workings of the world at large when his real focus should be centered on himself as the center of everything.

He could feel the stone rising through the water. It was he that was doing it. Normally, the stones would be moving swiftly in an orbit around himself, or if not that, spinning on an axis of its own. He was only working with one stone at the moment. Any more would have seen the collapse of his efforts and concentration. And yet, the stone rose, as if the water itself were lifting it upwards. It did not remain completely rigid in its position, either. It tumbled a bit on its own as the water around it pushed on its uneven surface.

Then, finally, the stone broke the surface of the water. The ambient surrounding had not been disturbed at all. And yet, this was the first step. It was one stone, slowly lifted out of the water. It was not something that would be useful to him for more than pulling a prank on someone.

He needed more speed, more precision, and finally, control over more items.

*****

Eventually, Rane got hungry, and would need to find a place to use the restroom. He walked back up the path from the deep cistern with a satisfied expression. Now, he may be able to kill a buck rabbit.

Fortunately, he would not have to put this to the test.

Oddly enough, he was… Safe? He was not sure that the creature that had brought him to its lair was something on which he could rely; however, there was no reason to assume that he would be butchered by the being. It appeared to be omnivorous, and to some degree, civilized.

He made it to the top of the stairwell, and shivered a bit. There was a bit of a draft. He tilted his head. He could hear a rasping breath falling and rising. It would appear that the creature had returned from its task of pride. Perhaps it would tell him what happened.

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It wasn’t difficult to find, placing itself in one of the larger chambers in the central area of the caves; however, the sight that greeted him was not exactly what he expected.

The creature was sprawled out on the uneven floor, staining some of its protrusions with blood that dripped from just a few gaping wounds. The amount of blood did not at all match the size of the wounds; of course such a creature would not allow itself to bleed out. Even now, Rane was watching in real time as its flesh seemed to knit itself back together at the edges, leaving behind a thin line of hairless skin where the wound had been. Rane traced the line up, up, and around.

He reconsidered. Perhaps he did not want to know what had happened. It was possible that the vile abomination that had ended his division had also beaten this creature as well. Maybe it had just survived. It was at the very least strong enough to do that.

As if sensing his doubt and fears, the creature turned and locked eyes with Rane, and his mind was branded with a single scene.

He saw the creature before him standing tall, letting out a roar that seemed as if it were going to topple trees. There were no trees left to topple though. The wound that Rane saw in the cave was still fresh, and began from the creature’s hip and winded up and around its arm nearly to its neck. Blood poured from the wound in spurts that slowed by each moment.

Below the creature… no, below the Great Wood Guardian, Rane had decided to call him, lay the other monster. Its two front legs were severed completely and one of its back legs was bent at an odd angle, twitching, but not showing any signs of the real recovery all such monsters possessed.

The elongated seltient claws of the Guardian rose into the air and fell like the blade of the executioner, severing the misshapen lump of flesh that resembled a rider from the back of its equine portion. Yet it did not end there.

The Guardian raised its claws again, and they fell again, and again, and again, until the monster that had killed them was little more than an unrecognizable mass of flesh.

The scene ended, but Rane’s vision was still blurred. He reached up to wipe his eyes, his sleeve coming back moist from the tears that had welled up as the scene played to him.

His mind raced. It seemed impossible. It was incomprehensible. A monster had died. A horrifying abomination that had killed nearly everyone he cared about, and that had blocked his return. A being that was absolute in the world had died. For now, Rane was unconcerned about the creature which had done the deed. He could only think about what this meant for himself. Could I go back now?

No, he could not. He was still not strong enough to survive a brush with the strange, camouflaged serpent, and he likely still would be unable to hunt for his own prey in the woods. No, he could not go back. He wasn’t even strong enough to fend for himself long enough to get home. At his best guess, he was a month's journey from Kelston, and that’s if he had a straight shot without getting lost, which he already was.

His tears had nearly already dried on his cheeks as it occurred to him that his friends had been avenged. He hoped that they could find some solace in that. For himself, he could not find that same peace. They were dead; he was alive, and he was unsure if that was what he deserved. He knew that the world was not fair, but that did not stop him from thinking so. Something was different now, though.

Before, he had not even entertained the notion that vengeance was a thing that was possible. Now, it had been done, and actually, he had been a critical part of setting it in motion. Even monsters could die.

Of course, anything could die, but seeing it happen was another thing altogether. Something he had witnessed and considered to be the peak of power had simply died at the hands of another such creature, the Guardian. It made them feel almost mortal. Almost.

He was not ready for such a thing.

To the Guardian, he opened his mind and bit and did his best to transfer his sense of gratitude.

It acknowledged his gratitude, but nothing else.

Rane went about his mundane tasks.

He would pursue the same goal as before: strength.

*****

Rane found himself again in the depths of the cave, listening to the water drop into the waters of the cistern. The Guardian did not seem interested in anything other than sleeping and occasionally making trips to its storeroom. Apparently, even monsters could feel fatigue. He shuddered as he wondered what the actual clash would have been like. He had only been shown the ending.

Rane focused, slowing his heart rate, and feeling for the ambient surrounding him. This time, he picked up three stones, lifting them from the water simultaneously, and allowing them to tumble as they floated above the water at an odd angle.

Then, with a sudden wish, the stones were thrown back into the water at a speed that created splashes that reached the ceiling of the cistern. He needed to be stronger still.

Without sufficient strength, he was trapped exactly where he was, with the Guardian. Things could have been much, much worse for him; however, without more strength, this was nothing more than a prison. A bit posh, but a prison nonetheless.