There is fear in the heart of all men, about this even the most arguable must agree. The men who work, the men who fight, the men who make themselves rich. Fear can be conquered, it can be chased away to the corner of the heart, it can be used as a tool to control the self or even others. But regardless it is there. An ever-present ghost in the center of the soul. Sages have spoken for it, and against it, and some have devised ways to control it. Everyone must learn to manage the fear in their own heart but rarely is it asked as to who put it there to begin with. For which of all men have chosen to be afraid?
Seven nights passed, the chill of the air palpable in each. Gan Had traveled so far into the spreading that the land around him had become unfamiliar. He had been told by his grandfather years ago that the spreading doesn't just bring monsters, it also warps the environment. The soil might become tarry and black, the hills might flatten into valleys or pits, and every tree and living thing would rot in the ground. That was where Gan was now, in a groove of rotten trees, some fallen and filled with black maggots that crawled over each other in great mass knawing at the wood. Some half standing the bark stripped bare laying curled up on the ground dried and dead, and covered in a white powdery moss Gan had never seen before.
The earth was barren of grass and weed alike, just slick and oily dirt was left. It seemed what once was healthy nature, had become a wasteland overnight. Gan didn't know where he was or why he was still alive, he had fought ten more monsters in the passing days. Things of nightmare, creatures that crawled, flew, and slithered, and his entire body was now a wreck. A raven with slender string-like legs as long as trees, that flew as quietly as a cloud while striking other creatures with its thirty feet long whips had left a gash across his face before he had even seen it coming. Those legs were spindly and weak but they let the bird attack from a throwing distance, Gan had been forced to wrap his bare hands with cloth and attempt to catch the whips as they struck in quick succession leaving cuts and bruises on his body.
His left arm which had only been fractured by the Hawksore, was broken in three places by a hairless, charging, bull-like creature with three heads and venomous fangs, Gan had been forced to climb a tree to escape the beast which was hard to do with one arm, and the monster had not left him alone after he was out of its reach, instead it charged the very tree he was in, again and again to knock him out. But damaged its own skull in doing so and dropped dead after the dozenth impact. He had wrapped his aching arm with two sticks and some torn strips of cloth, it likely wouldn't set right but it was the best he could do with one good hand. since that day the fights had been nearly impossible. The spear which felt light and powerful in both of Gan's hands felt heavy and slow in just one. And with his arm secured perfectly straight beside him he was far less agile. This had led to other injuries in the three fights since.
Gan was limping now from an Eater he had killed dropping mouth first onto his leg and tearing a wound in his calf which had bled for hours even after Gan wrapped it. There was a bite mark on his shoulder, three claw marks on his back and both his eyes were black and swollen from a wild monkey-like monster that while impaled on the spear he was still holding, pulled its dying body towards him and headbutted him in the face twice.
Now as the sun set yet again, Gan let his body fall to the ground and groaned as he tried to sleep. Out in the open his dropped pack beside him, only covered by the few trees in the groove, and blood still covering his leg that he thought would for sure attract a beast to end him in his sleep, Gan passed out. The sleep was light and filled with pain, his entire body was restless and his dreams were of teeth and blood. There was this feeling that he would never wake up, like he would lay in a restless state suffering in a nightmare forever. But when the sun rose the next day Gan woke to find he was still breathing. Cold from the ground and the night air, but breathing. "W..Who..." Gan could hardly get out a word when the back of a stranger guarding his prone form caught his eye and then vanished.
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The man had been a tall and dark-headed huntsman, a spear in his hand and a bow strung to his back. He had stood perfectly still facing away from Gan and vanished in the blink of an eye. "Hello?!" Gan called looking around. But no one answered. the land was as barren as it had been the day before. Crawling to his feet Gan searched around but there was no one other than him here in this rotten groove. And he didn't dare call out too loud or he might attract the attention of something he didn't want to answer his call.
After a half-hearted search Gan decided it was a part of his dream following him into wakefulness, but even if the man was real what could he do about it? As he walked the rest of the day he considered if his unmolested nights could be the doing of some unknown guard. Was someone keeping him safe when he slept? It was hard for Gan to believe the outlandish notion but it was even harder to believe he was still alive, for a while now he had wondered if he was lucky or unlucky that his nights were quiet. This living in constant battle and marching an impossible march was no life he wished for. Every day he collected a new wound and fought with less strength than the day before. If not for his father's training and his talent with the spear that even his father was mesmerized by, he would be dwelling in the stomach of an Eater right now.
Gan limped another day through, the land changing from fields and rotten grooves, to a sandy wasteland where the earth was cracked and dry and the mountains in the visible distance stood white and proud. There was a tension in the air here, the sun beat down but the wind was cold and nippy. The scarce brush that was still around was dried out and dead and the rare tree Gan would pass was either fallen and dead, or rotten in white patches large enough to wonder how it was still standing. Gan drank from his water skin and on this day ate the last of the dried meat and moldy bread he had been carrying. If he was to eat again he would have to find a food source in this waste.
But he knew there was no more food to be had, not just in this waste but everywhere in the spreading anything that could be consumed already was, either by the monsters which were perpetually hungry or by the parasites that would appear with seemingly no origin to eat every plant and organic substance. Gan was prepared to die today, His body was now weaker than it had ever been before. The pack strapped to his shoulder felt impossibly heavy and burdensome, his spear dragged on the dirt as his good arm barely held onto it. "Just one more," Gan whispered to no one with a pitiful smile on his face. Just one more monster, if he encountered anything today he would be unable to fight it. There would be no more struggle, and no more pointless marching.
Gan realized he'd only come this far to punish himself, he could have let the very first eater he encountered finish him off but that didn't feel like enough. Every wound and hard-walked day since, was just his soul trying to fill the void he felt inside. Trying to pay the debt he owed to his little sister. Part of him wanted to meet his parents in the afterlife and say "Look here, I tried. I marched as far as I could to save her. Please forgive me, Please don't blame me." After all what else could he say to them? His failure was like a red-hot iron searing his soul from the inside out.
After thinking for a long time as he walked, his slow steps over the sand leaving a somber trail of footprints behind him, and the vague calls of wild things far away no longer distracting him as they did on the first days of his trek, there was another part of him... A small voice that kept asking "How far can I go?" already he had faced things he never thought he could survive to witness. He had fought even while wounded and marched further in seven days through the Spreading than he ever thought was possible. He wanted to see, or rather some darkly curious part of him wanted to see, what he was truly made of. Gan looked up from the drab ground below his feet and stared at the distant tower of light.
Its white powerful image was burning in his heart, He wished in this moment to make it all the way. Not just to save his sister, but to see that tower of light from its base, touch it with his hand, and with some great strength he knew was impossible to have, Cut it down like a felled tree. Gan stared at the evil thing walking half-mindedly for hours, that wish never leaving his mind until he realized it was night once again. This deep into the spreading It should be impossible not to encounter a monster for an entire day, even if he was hiding. The droves of nightmare creatures should have smelt him, or sensed him, or seen him from the sky. A deep feeling settled in Gan's chest, and the hairs on his neck stood on end. Was someone protecting him?