“When surrounded by danger on all sides, it takes the tiny pleasures to remind yourself what you’re fighting for. Gratitude is the greatest weapon against fear and anxiety I’ve ever found.”

- George Shade

Slumber kept me in her warm clutches for a grand total of three hours before a particularly close howl ruined it for me. My head shot forward as I sat up, a cramp forming immediately in the back of my neck. I raised my conjured gauntlets before I even finished blinking away the fatigue.

“Whoa! Calm down, my brave ally!” Elio hissed at me with both hands raised. He was across the fire, a stick propped against the log he sat on. His eyes were that odd mix of exhaustion and unrest I knew only too well nowadays. Sympathy doused the flames of my adrenaline, and I recalled my armaments. His hands fell back into his lap and I didn’t miss the fact that his fingers tapped an arrhythmic beat between his cupped palms.

“What’s going on?” I inquired, scooting quietly to get out of my tiny tent. I dragged the thin yet insulating blanket that was one of the final gifts from Eliza along with me, sitting across from my dark haired friend. He considered my question for a few moments before he finally answered.

“This—this is nothing like my Spirit Walk.” His words were soft, almost as if ashamed by the admission. Being a connoisseur of discretion, I shamelessly asked for blunt clarification on this clearly sensitive topic.

“Sorry, but what’s a Spirit Walk?” I asked. I rubbed my eyes to get the small granules out of it.

“I am a Monster Monk. When we come of age at the monastery, we are given a choice: return to the realms of mortals, or seek a teacher from the noble creatures in the Wilds. If we choose the latter path, we learn from their forms and habits. With this sacred knowledge, we develop our personal martial arts and disciplines. We study the mighty beasts’ rhythms, their hunts, and how they approach this world.” He looked up at me then, but the flames of our small fire reflected in his green eyes. “Our Spirit Walk is when we, without any provisions, enter the Wilds to seek our master.”

The weight of what he just said sunk in, and if any hint of his usual smile were to make an appearance, I would’ve laughed at the notion. Though which part drew my disbelieving mirth, I wasn’t sure.

“So you—” I gestured to the untamed forest around us. He nodded silently. “Then you found a teacher? Some…monster?”

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“Such an uncouth word, ‘monster.’” Elio returned to his vigil over the crackling fire. “It implies evil intent. I wandered these woods for a month, and I learned much. The Shadow Lord guided my eyes to the truth.”

“You keep mentioning this guy. Who is he? I’ve never heard of him before you.” I replied with a calm smile, and I felt like I was somehow treading on ground Elio considered holy. I knew from his quiet demeanor that any quips or sarcasm right then might cost me our friendship. I couldn’t risk that. Not now.

Elio’s eyes lit up at my question. “The Shadow Lord is the best! He found me, nearly dead from dehydration and some strange berries I ate! They gave me the wildest visions I have ever had, even crazier than elder Zanzabar’s secret mushrooms!” He squirmed excitedly in his seat, and the frantic patter of his fingers slowed. I gestured for him to continue.

“My great master told me so many wondrous things—”

I put up my hand to halt my friend. “Sorry, hold up. He told you. As in, he actually spoke to you? A monster?”

My friend cringed a bit at my final comment, but pressed forward with a vigorous shake of his head. “He—well—” Elio’s fingers started to twitch again. “He spoke to me in my mind.”

I could feel it right then. This was the moment that he had been dreading. Tension swallowed our little campfire like a tornado in full swing. I pictured a young Elio standing in front of his eccentric elders and relaying this same information with absolute confidence bred from experience. Then, all at once, their rapt attention devolved into judgemental laughter and scoffs. I saw it in his eyes. He was awaiting the blow of my dismissal.

“Oh, so he had some sort of psychic affinity? How did that translate into you becoming a pugilist, then?” I asked, doing my best to keep my tone level.

“Wh–what?” Elio asked, his voice catching on the lump in his throat. Tears began to stream down the sides of his grinning cheeks. “You believe me?”

“Elio, I’ve encountered rubber-trees, a waterfall that wanted to kill me, and a tiefling with an attitude. I have no concept of what’s impossible and what’s not. You tell me you met a psychic beast that saved your life and taught you how to punch stuff, I’m just going to believe you until something proves you otherwise. Honestly, even then.” My voice caught a little. “I—I get the need for people to believe you when you tell them something important. Trust me.”

“I can’t wait to be that person for you, Thea.” Elio’s smile was as earnest as it was kind. I returned it, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot fire that crackled between us.

“You both should get some rest,” Lizzy said, emerging from the shadows near the edge of our campsite. “We have no idea what tomorrow brings. We need both of you in top shape, okay?” Her voice was hoarse, though I couldn’t discern why. She sounded like she might’ve been crying. That, or the smoke from the fire got to her. I shrugged, but rose to my feet, taking the blanket with me.

“Tell me more about your Shadow Lord tomorrow, okay?” I asked my friend while I walked past the elf in our party.

“Okay!” He replied enthusiastically, only to get a collective groan from the others still asleep. I nodded and waved behind me as I returned to my tent.

I hope what tomorrow brings doesn’t totally suck.