He had been there far too long.

At some point, he stopped celebrating his birthday. Really, he couldn’t tell when his birthday was, so he’d just picked a day at random and tried to make sure he hit it every year, but… He lost track. He was 66 years old at this time. But he didn’t feel older. The forest was the same, his body was the same. He couldn’t leave. He only got lost.

It was Hell.

But he had learnt many spells. If he’d had some sort of creative interest back on Earth he might have invested time into it, but he didn’t. All he liked to do was play sports, hand out with his friends, and train. Now, he found purpose in Magick. His arsenal of spells had grown extensive. Every new spell he created, he grafted onto a tree. Old trees were chock full of spells, as of similar nature. One tree held spells for direct attack. Another for curses. Another for buffs. This went on and on.

But his most favourite spell, at the time of creating, the one he’d sunk hours upon hours of research into was… telepathy. Talking to people. He hoped there were humans here. That’s the one thing keeping him going. Sometimes, when he felt especially lonely, he’d kidnap a small critter with no chance of winning against him, and establish a mental link to it. He’d talk about things endlessly, what he defeated the day before, what spells he was working on… the animal couldn’t understand. He knew that, but talking to something soothed him.

And then one day, a new presence appeared in the forest. Or five, to be exact. Adam saw them through his “pets”: small animals he’d overtaken using his Magick, rewriting their consciousness with his. He saw them through a small squirrel-like creature (it had a stupidly long tail with legs on it that it travelled on, strange creature).

They had set up camp by the stream down by one of the large palm-like trees. There wasn’t a cellphone or anything in sight. No modern technology to speak of. It’s not like Adam believed he was on Earth or anything, but the idea that ordinary life here was so different from his home felt… almost wrong. And, yes, he did still consider Earth his rightful home.

“HIuhjn jokppl hyubahbsy öåisuh,” one of the women said in a language Adam couldn’t even pretend he understood, her bright yellow eyes grazing over the form of another woman, who sat to the side, eyes closed in focus.

The camp place was mostly just a square-shaped fire around which the merry band sat, with a single tent off to the side. The woman opened her all-white eyes, peering out at the rest of the group as if she wasn’t quite looking at them at all, but instead someplace else entirely. The white-eyed woman proceeded to say something in that very same language, her wheaten, almost white long locks threatening to cover her entire face.

As strange as it was, what truly drew Adam’s attention was the way she was dressed, with strangely coloured furs and oddly bright gemstones covering her entire outfit. This was in sharp contrast to the rest of the group, who, in terms of fabric, all wore some thick wool-like material. The one who wore the most of this was the woman who had said something to the almost tribal-looking woman, who wore an all-white ensemble of clothes, which was really just a dress. The white of her dress contrasted nicely with her ebony skin and chocolate eyes.

“Gjliji. Ggjnlk, Jknmljnb?” one of the other people said: a middle-aged man wearing a full suit of medieval-looking armour, complete with sharp-toed shoes and an oddly shaped helmet. He seemed to be from the same place as the dress-wearing girl, since not only did he have the same complexion, they also both shared that strange almost British accent. “Huijn?”

“Hjkbhm, ökjljehdgyb bjhb,” a pale, too-thin man said, his black eyes trailing between the forest Adam was in and the long ivory spear at his side.

“Hibhb!” the last member piped in, his bright, young eyes sharing that pure-whiteness that the tribal looking girl had. On closer look, they seemed very similar purely face-wise. Siblings, perhaps?

Either way, Adam drank in the five people with vigour and greed, anxious to see, hear and feel more of them. He really wanted to speak with them. Just to… talk to somebody. Somebody who could respond! Sadly, there was a clear language barrier between him and them. And if he just stepped out to greet them, they might be hostile! Sure, he couldn’t tell if his species was generally accepted by the human population, but he betted they’d consider him more of an animal than a man.

So, he was left with one thing left to do.

Wait, and see what they do. Sure, he’ll keep an eye on them, and if they leave he’ll follow them, but he wouldn’t want to needlessly start anything. Who knows how powerful they might be? He was confident in his combat prowess, but even so, he had no idea what they could throw at him.

And so, he watched, and he waited.

Night fell.

Ungelica really wasn't too positive about this whole thing. Sure, she wasn’t positive towards much of anything, but even so, something about this all felt wrong. This may only have been her third round as a hunter, but this was wholly unlike the other two hunts. A were-rabbit causing mayhem? A polycrus stealing children? And now… a spirit bear.

They knew next to nothing about it. A scouting sorcerer had noticed it while trying out a flying spell, taken note of its movements and deemed it a threat if left unchecked. Sure. But something about this all felt… wrong. Something was wrong. Spell circles on trees, words written in a strange language, Golems everywhere… Ingeri was an excellent Shaman, and her power over her two Golems was immaculate. But even she had to admit the amount of Golems around there was too much for her.

“I don’t like it,” Ungelica said aloud, her fellow night watchman, Katte, turning to look at her. His clear white eyes never failed to make her uncomfortable. She supposed she’d get used to it, but still. At no comment from the aboriginal man, she continued to speak her thoughts. “This whole deal. With the Spirit Bear and all.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Ooohh. Hmmm. Yeah, pretty weird, huh? I’m excited!” Katte said, his face lighting up in a smile. She really couldn’t understand where he got his energy from. Maybe it was the “spirits in the air”? Maybe it was the drugs? She had no idea.

“I don’t-,” a crack, “...Katte, be quiet.” The wind was whistling. The moon was grinning. Somewhere, there was a noise. The cracking of branches, the rustle of leaves yet to rot, the chill of the late-autumn breeze tugging at her hair. “I’ll go alert the others. Draw your bow.”

Katte nodded and did as told. Ungelica sneaked off to the tent. She could feel a gaze on her back, and she knew it wasn’t Katte’s. Inside the tent, she found the completely soundless forms of her comrades as of late. Apparently, when a beast could hear you at any time of day, snoring was not an advantage.

Ungelica poked at the three forms, shushing them when they woke up. All three immediately understood the situation, grabbing a hold of their weapons as they exited.

Outside, Katte still stood guard, his bow drawn and arrows made of bone pointed into the bushes. His acute sense of hearing picked up every movement, but even so, he hesitated to fire. The rest of the party took their positions. Pritte may not have been wearing his full suit of armour, but putting it on at this hour would take more time than it was worth. And so, he wore only his chainmail, although it obviously boasted quite the defensive capabilities on its own. Shaun had at least grabbed his spear (his leather armour was nowhere to be seen) and Ingeri had slept in her fur robe.

Everybody was ready. Their eyes firmly focused on the spot, they awaited the arrival of what may just be one of the most dangerous foes they had ever faced. From within the forest, all five members could see a bluish-white glow, gradually growing in brightness and proximity. They steeled their hearts, each grip growing tighter on their weapon of choice, be it a sword or faith itself.

What emerged defied all expectations.

It wasn’t correct to call that thing a bear. It was more like a giant amoeba, crawled up on land to feast upon organisms with cell-counts that dwarfed its own. It had four pairs of tendril-like legs upon which it stood (two floated in front of the creature almost indifferentially, like the arms of a mantis), although it seemed as if it didn’t need them, as it almost seemed to be floating. Around what must have been the head, three pairs of smaller, shorter tendrils sat, like little horns or something. Similar outgrowths could be found on it’s back, as well as on its tail. In total, it had 22 tentacles, all somewhat transparent and tinged a light, icy blue. Its white eyes shone with intelligence.

The second it’s milky white eyes fell upon the group, the two front-arms lifted to the skies. Surrender? Had Ungelica been a kinder, more positive woman, she might have considered that to be the case. But she wasn’t. She was a cynical, negative and wise woman, who took the safe before the unsafe.

“Get into positions!” she barked, raising her hands similarly to how the creature raised its own. The core difference here was that whereas the creature seemed to be surrendering, Ungelica was preparing to summon Spell Circles to heal the group. This was what she believed the creature to be doing. It wasn’t.

Where had it all gone wrong?

Adam was not a history buff, nor was he a movie buff. He’d just wanted to see them with his own eyes, was all! How was he supposed to know they kept people awake at night, the monsters? Man, Adam missed a good night’s sleep. Nevertheless, here he was, trying desperately to surrender to the group, evidently failing to do so.

Within mere moments of his emergence, the group was on him like wild cats, each members playing their role expertly. One tried to stab him with a spear, another flung arrows at him from afar, one slashed at him with a sword and yet another hurtled curses at him. Adam had never met someone who could mess with his body in such ways before, but most of the curses were ineffective since he had no organs to tamper with. One of her many curses even tried to block his breathing! What an idea!

As time went on, he got tired of just idly taking their attacks, not fighting back in the least. They didn’t harm him. One wound or two, he could heal it in a moment. But it was still annoying pain he’d rather not feel.

Enough is enough (no more tears).

Ungelica should have noticed how her group started slacking off. The creature wasn’t fighting back, so they’d had no fear in approaching it, inch by inch, until, finally, they were mobbing it. A passive creature. But, it felt wrong, as everything had, lately. But before Ungelica could bark any more orders, the creature lashed out.

A powerful tendril lashed out at Pritte, sending him flying into a tree. Ungelica was on the case within seconds, running for him, but the creature stepped in between. Sad, tired and intelligent eyes froze her in place. There was a cold aura about that thing. Cold, and calculating. She couldn’t move, and nobody else could, either. The fight stopped. Behind it, Pritte wheezed, clearly having broken something major. The urge to run for him to heal tugged at Ungelicas feet, but her survival instincts stopped her. A prayer to Deus floated in her mind, but she couldn’t utter it.

The creature moved slowly. As floaty as it seemed, it was still very much a slow creature. It moved to Pritte, entirely turning its back on the party. A stronger woman would have taken the chance to act. No, not a stronger woman. A foolish woman. Ungelica wasn’t foolish. So, she observed, biting her lip, biding her time, flinching with every grunt and groan Pritte gave.

It came up to him, looming over him like a spider over a fly. He might’ve been more terrified than the rest of them. But fear wasn’t a factor to him, not usually. Headstrong, pain resilient and heroic, what kept him in place was not fear, but two broken legs. The creature bowed down, empty eyes gazing over the damage. Two tendrils, the frontal ones, fell down upon his chest.

Ungelica recognized it. How could she not? As a Priest of Deus, the one Divine God, how could she not recognize such a stance? The creature didn’t speak a word of spellspeak, it couldn’t, but Ungelica could almost taste the flow of Magick. Pritte coughed and sputtered, clearly in even more pain than previously, but the creature persisted. Magick entered his body, corrected the wrongs, regenerated flesh and bone, replaced blood… Healed him. The creature had healed his broken body.

It was an amazing sight. Ungelica knew that this was a sight for the ages. Not only was the beast intelligent, not only could it use Magick, but it could heal. But, awash with awe over what it did, Ungelica failed to wonder about the whys. Why had the creature healed Pritte? Why had it “surrendered”? Why was it acting like this?

It turned to her. Pritte, healed and ready, took a hasty retreat. She didn’t do anything to stop it from completing a spell circle. Magick shone, and she felt an icy cold presence enter her mind. It felt like brain freeze, only worse. She almost buckled over but remained standing, if only to square up against the being.

“Bjkn ajkdsm ikåpöjmioa juhug7?” a male voice, neither young, neither old, said in her mind. Mental link. This creature had formed a mental link with her. A human. “Huhkb. Jbkhbvuy hbjh ijokl?”

“I don’t understand you,” Ungelica thought, shaking her head. The creature seemed to understand, as it somehow looked remarkably distressed, despite having no eyebrows or mouth to express it with. “But I’m Ungelica,” she pointed at herself, “Ungelica.”

“Ungilika?” the creature said, before looking down, clearly in thought. Pointing to itself, the creature followed suit. “Adam. A-dam.”

“Adam?” Ungelica parroted, pointing to the creature. The way its entire demeanour lit up like a flower in spring was almost magical. It seemed just about ready to skip up and down and hum a happy song.

“Adam, Adam! Ungelica!~” the creature said happily, striding up towards her at its own slow pace. She didn’t much like being approached by the bear-sized amoeba, but she let it. Him. The creature, Adam, pointed to the other members. “Ungelica?”

She understood what that meant.

“Shaun,” she pointed to the spear-man, “Katte,” over to the archer (who waved happily), “Ingeri,” to the shaman, “and Pritte,” she said, finally pointing to the wary-looking warrior. Adam followed her finger closely.

“Shaun, Katte, Ingeri, Pritte,” Adam finally pointed to her, the priest, “Ungelica!” The way he said all of their names like an excited child at a birthday party made Ungelica reconsider his surrender. This creature was clearly sentient, it even had a name! Still, it did raise some questions. What was this language it spoke? What kind of name was “Adam”? Why did it live out here?

And, finally, why didn’t it attack them?

This and more, on the next episode of “Before”!