Ah…
It's warm.
It's been forever since I last felt the gentle caress of sunlight across my face, shining in through the window.
To think, I'd almost forgotten it, when... how could I forget something so familiar?
And how I'd missed you, bed... a real bed. A proper, soft and fluffy mattress with a warm cuddly blanket, not a cot with a mat of hay and a scratchy linen sheet.
Although... which bed is this? My first or my...
Hmm. It feels like it has springs. That makes it my first bed.
Reluctantly, I crack one eye open to peek at my bedside clock.
7:45am.
I have to be up at 8am to be at uni by 9:30, so...
15 more minutes of sleep! Yippee!
I roll around on my bed, gathering up my blanket to wrap myself up into a perfect blankie burrito. So warm. So cozy, so comfy, so... sleep-inducing...
But... if I fall back asleep...
Will I just fall right back into that neverending nightmare? Will I end up back in Haven? Was that all just a long, drawn out and bizarrely detailed dream?
"Marina! Come down and get some breakfast!" My mother calls.
Shoot. I guess she heard me rolling around in bed... The floors in this house were always too thin.
Oh well. Guess I'll go down and have break... fast...
Marina?
Who's Marina?
That's not my name. That was definitely my mother's voice, though. My mother, not my other... mother?
The first one, not the second... but... I only have one mum, not...
"Mum...?" I call.
"I'm not bringing your breakfast upstairs, dear." She calls back, in her warm, lightly teasing voice... Yeah. That's my mum.
Okay. Enough with the existential crisis. It's nearly 8 now, so I really should get up.
I sit up, swinging my legs to the side to sit against the edge of the bed, stretching out like I always do... glancing in my standing mirror-
"EEK!!!?"
I jump backwards onto the bed, clutching my blanket. What the hell is in my mirror. It has red and black hair and blood red eyes and white pupils and pointed ears and fucking WINGS what the fuck what the fuck what the ff...
A strand of hair falls from my fringe, laying across my eye.
Black hair.
I look in the mirror again. The thing looking back at me looks just as startled as I am. Something soft rubs against both my shoulders - it's my wings. Trying to... console me, maybe. My wings. My wings?
"Is everything alright, dear...?" My mother asks.
The door to my room, right beside the standing mirror, opens as my mother peers in.
Mum... with her blonde hair, starting to turn platinum as she's in her 50s, or... no, her dark brown hair, she's not even 40 yet... Her soft blue eyes, or her... hazel... ones...
What? Which... who's...
"M-Mum...?" I whimper.
"Yes?" Two voices answer, one of an older, stern but loving woman, the other of a young, sing-songy and sweet woman.
Which... Where, what house is... this... What family... What life? What's... Mum... Mum!... Mum!
"Marina." Rann's voice suddenly cuts through my dream, and I blink awake.
"R-Rann...?"
"Yes, Rann. Not your mother. It's time, let's go." Rann pats my shoulder, standing back up and grabbing his spear.
"Right, just, uh..." I look down at my hands. These are the hands I'm used to now, with a strand of black hair across my eyes...
"Um, Rann..."
"Yes?" Rann turns to look back at me. The unflappable calmness in his eyes helps ease my nerves a little.
"How um... How do I look?"
"With your eyes, Marina." Rann turns to leave.
"N-No I mean... uh... nevermind." I sit up from my cot, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
"Dreaming of your past life?" He asks, slinging the bear spear over his shoulder.
"Yeah..."
“Happens.” Rann extends out his hand, which I take, standing up.
“Wait if everyone’s… they took the sled, but my cot’s still…”
“I’ll take care of that. Everyone decided you had earned a bit more rest.” Rann leans down, picking up my cot and tucking it under his arm.
“They did?” I question, grabbing the weighty spear that I’ve grown used to handling.
“No. I decided it.” Rann clarifies.
Then why did… fine. The campfire’s already been cleared; there’s no trace left of us being here. It’s convenient that “being on fire” is a common thing around here; no one’s going to question any particular pile of ash from the dozens of such piles that can be found all over the place.
“Head to your spot above the cave. I’ll signal you when we’re ready.” Rann says, turning to leave towards the northeastern clearing outside the bloodbeast’s cave.
“Everything still going according to plan?” I call.
Rann just waves in response. Guess everything’s fine. Before I set off, though.
Wings- yes, hi, thanks for the neck tickle of acknowledgement. Saying “Wings” before talking to you in my head helps me keep track of what I’m saying. Stay under the cloak until it’s our turn to move. It’s probably not a good idea for anyone… else… to see me out here with wings.
Off we go, then.
I’d practically memorised every step of the path to my spot atop the cave. The bloodwood forest looks flat at first glance, but there’s ditches and gullies running between the trees and breaking up the sparse bushes. What you can’t see are the hills. Really, the “hill” where the cave isn’t a hill, the clearing is much lower than its surroundings, which means keeping track of where I’m going is important.
Which is…
…
I’m going the right way, right- no, of course I am. I shouldn’t doubt myself, that’d just make me panic. I know the path. I come up to this tree with its branches twirled in a loop, and I go right.
Before I step, my wings jolt under the cloak, jerking my body to the left.
It was left? Yeah. It was left.
Thanks for remembering and reminding me, wings. I’m still trying to… actually, no. I feel like no matter how long I pontificate over the function, existence, and intelligence of the wings I found on my back upon being reborn here, I won’t get any satisfactory answers. It’s convenient that they can count and remember directions, at least.
If anything, the fifteen minutes walk to my designated location wouldn’t be nearly enough time to sort through the many questions the existence of my wings raises, because I’m here now.
One last step, and I’m in position, standing atop the cave’s entrance with the clearing before me.
The twins, Han, and Einar had spread out across the clearing in a rough semicircle, each hiding behind a pile of large bones or a fallen tree. Johnny and Rob are standing near the opposite end of the clearing, each with a net slung over their shoulder and holding a sack in their hands. Everyone’s standing as far away from the cave’s entrance as possible, and I’m standing on top of it. Haha.
Shortly after I reach my position, Rann enters the far end of the clearing, carrying his bear spear and the dead jackhorn. Between me and him, the clearing looks to be some 100 metres (or tals) long, given how small Rann looks over there.
… Yet I can still quite clearly see what he’s holding. Huh. Has my vision improved? I used to be short-sighted…
Rann says something to Johnny and Rob, and the two of them move to opposite sides of the cave, taking their positions. Rann sticks his spear in the ground, walking towards the cave entrance with the bait in his hands. He keeps walking, until he’s right in front of the cave, standing almost directly below me.
“Everything alright up there, Marina?” He asks, in his normal tone of voice.
“Uh… should we be talking? Everyone else is keeping quiet…”
“It’s a bloodbeast, Marina. What did I say about bloodbeasts?” He continues, tearing a leg off the jackhorn’s carcass.
“That bloodbeasts don’t give a damn what goes on around them.”
“Exactly.” Rann tosses the leg into the cave, although I don’t hear it land.
“I swear… knew this was a suicide mission…” Johnny grumbles, loud enough for Rann and I to hear.
“Stick to the plan. It’ll all go fine.” Rann nonchalantly responds.
He walks back to the middle of the clearing, dropping the bait there, then moving to grab his spear and rest against the trunk of a tree, with all its bark scratched off by claw marks as big as my hand.
Now… we wait.
Everyone does their jobs, it all goes to plan.
Thump.
Everyone’s in position. We all know our roles.
Thump.
Really, I’ve got the easiest job. I just finish it off after everyone else does the hard parts.
Thump.
I’ve done this before, without thinking even. It just came naturally. It’ll be fine.
Thump.
…
Okay, good. The ground stopped shaking. Must’ve just been a minor earthquake-
Thump.
No, there it is again. That can’t be…
Thump.
Okay. With every thump, the dirt beneath my feet moves. Every leaf on every bush and every tree rustles. The force shakes some leaves to the ground. It’s just an echo though. It is in a cave after all.
Thump.
That… haha, okay, it can’t be that bad. I can’t see what’s going on inside the cave, nor can I clearly see anyone in the clearing, except… oh, I can see Arshak clearly.
Thump.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
At least… no, that is Arshak. He’s just… really, really pale. Staring into the cave, wide-eyed and deathly still.
Thump.
My legs suddenly buckle, and I drop to my knees, nearly slipping off this hill down into the clearing if I hadn’t driven the base of my spear as deep into the mud as I could. Rann peeks around from behind his hiding spot, checking that I’m okay. I am, I am, I’m fine…
Thump.
A blast of steam shoots from the cave’s entrance, blowing loose leaves and pebbles outwards.
Thump.
The bloodbeast’s head emerges from the cave, sniffing the ground before it.
Its head is definitely bear shaped, just, five times larger than any bear I’ve ever seen. Its ears are rounded, but one of them looks to have been bitten into. Its fur is dark brown, yet despite the wet and filthy conditions it lives in, it looks surprisingly clean. And fluffy.
Thump.
It takes another lumbering step forward. Even from above, it looks like it barely fits in the cave. Nobody dares make a move. Aside from the bloodbeast itself, the clearing is completely silent.
It lifts its head up, sniffing the air. I suddenly remember reading that bears have possibly the best sense of smell of any animal. It would absolutely be able to smell us.
And clearly, it does. It looks right at the pile of oversized rib bones that Arshak’s hiding behind.
Thump.
It steps towards Arshak. Arshak looks so pale he might faint. This is where it goes wrong, isn’t it. This is where everything…
Thump. Thump thump.
With a snort of disinterest, the bloodbeast turns towards the dead jackhorn laying in the middle of the clearing, thudding up to it and sniffing it.
It’s completely outside the cave, but only just. It’s so big that I could probably make that jump even without my wings’ help. Not that I want to try that, your help is always appreciated, wings.
With the beast’s attention now focused on bait, Johnny and Rob move into position, scattering their sacks full of golden caltrops into the mud. There’s no quiet way to spread caltrops, even on mud, but the bloodbeast doesn’t seem to care. That’s phase one.
Phase two is where it really begins. If we’re lucky, the bloodbeast will rear up on its hind legs, giving Rann the chance to spear its throat. If that doesn’t happen, we just keep it still long enough for me to get on its back.
The four archers creep out from behind their cover, bows drawn, ready for the signal. Despite how visible they are, the bloodbeast really doesn’t give a damn, just like Rann said. It barely even registers us as living things, let alone food.
“Now!” Rann calls.
Four arrows whizz through the air, straight for the bloodbeast’s head.
One misses.
Two more hit its head, bouncing harmlessly off its cheekbones.
The fourth and final arrow hits its upper neck, looking like a twig stuck in the mud.
The bloodbeast’s only response is the loud crunch as it eats the dead jackhorn’s head, its massive teeth crushing the skull to dust. There’s a painful moment of hesitation, as our first attack fails to even get our quarrey’s attention.
“Again. Einar, aim for its eye. The rest of you, shoot for its throat.” Rann calmly orders, and the four archers nock, draw…
Einar’s arrow finds its mark, hitting the beast square in its right eye.
What immediately followed was a roar, so loud and deep and guttural that even the lifeless trees shake in paralysing fear.
The beast growls, swiping at the side of its head, snapping the arrow shaft lodged in its eye socket, but failing to claw it out as dark red blood runs down its cheek.
“Now we’ve got your attention…” Rann yells, advancing on the beast with his spear in hand. “Rob! John! Bolas!”
“Yeah yeah, I heard ya!” Johnny yells back, flinging the spiked bola towards the bear’s hind leg, wrapping around it and digging into its flesh.
The beast kicks its hind leg with such force the displacement of air pushes Johnny backwards, nearly over into the mud before he regains his footing. Seizing the moment, Rob launches his bolas at the beast’s raised foot, a spike digging in between its blackened paw pads just before it puts its foot down, its own weight driving it further into its flesh, drawing a louder, longer growl from it that shakes every tree, bush and leaf around us.
It looks back over its shoulder, starting to turn to face Rob and Johnny who step back hastily, grabbing their spears as more arrows plink off its head.
“Eyes on me, bloodbeast!” Rann yells, driving his spear forward, cutting a deep gash into the beast’s neck.
The beast responds with a roar so loud every living thing in the Abyss must have heard it. It was not the ear-splitting screech of the carrion hawk that made your toes curl and your stomach churn, no. This was a roar that swallowed everything in its guttural embrace. Your ears, your head, your bones, everything shook, everything gave in and submitted as if that roar was the only thing in the universe, and that all else must kneel to it. A wordless declaration of superiority and intent that reached your very core and spoke, no, commanded a part of you so deep and primal that it needed no words to convey its message. This was the king, the apex predator of the Abyss, the very top of the food chain, and all else, even you, were its prey.
And it was angry.
Which is just what we wanted.
Rann pulled his spear free just as the beast’s paw came crashing down to smash it to splinters. Its strength was terrifying, but it was cumbersome. This was a young one, after all, one that hadn’t fully come to understand its own ability.
Rann drove his spear towards the beast’s head again, cutting another gash in its cheek. The wounds were minor and superficial, but these weren’t meant as the killing blow. The four archers kept firing off sporadically; they couldn’t kill it with arrows alone, but they could annoy the hell out of it. It tried to backpedal, but the caltrops together with Johnny and Rob’s spears stopped it in its tracks every time. Soon, as the plan goes, it’ll get angry, go back up on its hind legs, and…
With another roar, less bone-shakingly loud but still loud enough that it’s all that I can hear, ringing in my ears for several seconds after it actually ends. It pushes itself up onto its hind legs, standing so tall its head is now above mine. On all fours it looked like a bear, but standing up it looks oddly more… human shaped, with the proportions and positions of its forelegs. In the brief moment that it stood up, towering above even me atop the hill, I only had one strange thought on my mind.
How the fuck is that supposed to fit on the sled?
That thought quickly vacates my mind as I realise this is the final step. It’s up on its hind legs, just where we want it. It’ll swipe down, and when it does-
The beast moves before I finish my thought, lunging downwards at Rann, his bearspear held up and aimed perfectly for its throat. With all its weight, the bloodbeast comes crashing down on him, impaling its throat on the spearhead, growling in pain as the cross-halt hits its skin.
Then, a snap. The sound of wood splitting, splintering, and breaking.
The beast awkwardly drops onto its legs, pawing at its throat as it coughs up its own blood. Rann disappeared beneath it as it came down; a few of us cried his name as the beast dropped on top of him. His spear broke. His spear broke and now bloodbeast is on top of him.
Rann may be dead, but this was my moment to act. It was the only thought in my mind, as I briefly realised I was already in the air.
It was the spray of blood on my face… really, all over my torso that pulled me back to reality.
I was up higher in the air than I’d ever been before. I could probably see above the trees if I looked, but my focus was entirely fixed on my target. I descended like a hawk, keeping my feet spread, and the spearhead aimed at the beast’s neck. I landed on its shoulders, putting all my strength and momentum into the spear. It pierced its skin, drove deep into its neck, so hard even the crosshalt went into through its flesh - then, I felt something break, and the bloodbeast collapsed lifelessly onto the ground. It was only after I slightly moved the spear that a torrent of blood sprayed up at me, pulling me out of my hyper-focused state.
It’s dead.
So Rann…
“Rann!!”
“I’m fine, Marina. Good job.” Rann chuckles.
I look up at him - he’d managed to pull himself out from under the beast before it collapsed, but not without getting mud all over his arms, as he stands up. Relieved, I sink down, sitting across the slain animal’s neck.
“Didn’t expect the damn spear to break. Good thing we had you.” He smiles a little, walking around beside the beast to inspect the deep gash I’d cut into its neck, blood still pouring from the wound onto the ground below. “So, how do you feel?”
“How do I- AAGGHHH!”
A searing pain shoots through my side, originating from my upper thigh. Einar, standing opposite of Rann, holds an arrow in his hand, the tip covered in blood - my blood. I hadn’t even felt it hit me, but now that the adrenaline had worn off, I sure could feel it.
“When the fuck did… ow ow ow ow owww…”
“Han.” Einar sighs, grabbing some loose cloth from his pocket and pressing it over my wound. “Hold this. Firmly.”
I take hold of the cloth and keep it firm against my wound, gritting my teeth from the pain.
Han is pushed towards me by Einar, sheepishly holding his bow behind his back, unable to look at my face.
“A-ah… I’m really sorry, Marina, really, really sorry…” He says, his voice shaky.
“Ghhh… It’s fine, I didn’t expect to move that fast.”
“Y-yeah… haha… hah…” Han briefly looks up at me, before quickly averting his gaze.
What, is there something on my face? Am I injured somewhere else?
“Anyone have a spare cloth for Marina’s face?” Rann asks. Arshiya steps forward, offering a rather delicate looking handkerchief. Rann raises his eyebrow, but Arshiya smiles, so he hands it up to me.
Looking down over myself, my entire front is just coated with blood. My face is probably in a similar state. My wings also shake themselves off, trying to flick away the blood spray that got on them.
“Rann.”
“Yes?” He responds, leaning down to take a look at the dead beast’s head, inspecting the wounds along its face.
“How do I look?”
He looks up at me, unflappable as always. Especially for someone who nearly got crushed by a several-tonne bear.
“With your eyes.”
“No I meant-”
“Also, like you murdered an entire village. Clean your face up after your wound is seen to.” He says, walking towards the sled near the edge of the clearing.
“Hold still.” Einar says, starting to wrap a bandage around my leg, pressing the cloth against my wound to stem the blood flow.
I trace a finger along my cheek. Huh. I really do have blood all over my face.
“There. That will hold.” Einar pats my leg. It hurts like hell, but at least I won’t bleed out just yet.
I manage to lift my leg over the beast’s neck, sliding off and standing up beside it… shakily, with the pain from my leg. Still, I’m standing.
Next to the giant bear-thing I killed.
“How in hell do we get this thing onto the sled…” Johnny mumbles, standing beside me.
“I was wondering that too…” I mutter, looking at Johnny.
Johnny steps back slightly, before sighing and walking past me.
“Clean your face already. You look like you murdered a whole village.” He comments.
Right, I should do that. Feels like a waste to use this handkerchief for this, but I don’t want dried blood all over my face.
It looks like I managed to snap its spine by fitting my spear between the vertebrates. A lucky strike, hitting the perfect spot. I don’t think I’m quite skilled enough with a spear or knowledgeable enough of the anatomy of a bloodbeast to have done that intentionally. That’s two big animal kills for me, and this one we might just get to eat. I’m better at hunting than I thought I would be.
“Uh… Marina…” Han mumbles, standing beside me.
“Yes?” I turn to look at him, and he steps back, almost startled.
“I-I really am sorry for hitting you with an arrow, and, um, you’re still on our side, right?” He sputters out, taking another step back.
“Still on… of course I am. Why would that change?”
“Stop panicking and help bring the sled over, boy. Marina’s not going to kill you.” Einar says, as Han quickly turns to go help Johnny and Rann bring the sled over.
“You said my name, Einar!” He did! He finally said my name!
“And you, girl. Your leg’s fine, grab the nets.” He grunts at me, turning to help with the sled.
Oh. Okay then.
Han, Johnny and Rann bring the sled up in front of the bloodbeast. It looks wide enough to fit the beast, but definitely not long enough. As Einar said, I go over and grab the nets, as Han sheepishly grabs the other corner of them.
“Einar, John, Rob. Help me get this thing on its side. The twins are gathering the arrows. We tie its legs, get it on the sled and secured by the net.” Rann orders.
“Should we be leavin’ all these golden caltrops in the mud? Ain’t they valuable?” Johnny asks.
“Clap three times.” Rann smiles slightly, throwing some rope over his shoulder and moving to beside the bloodbeast.
“Clap three… okay, sure.” Johnny rolls his eyes, half-heartedly clapping three times - on the third clap, all the caltrops disappear with a flash. “What the?!”
“Saves time.” Einar grunts, walking over to the beast.
The four men push the carcass with a loud grunt, managing to roll it onto its side, showing the broken spear stuck in its throat.
Rann leans in to inspect the broken spear, trying to pull it free from the beast’s throat - to no avail.
“Rann, you wanna tell us how exactly you got out from under this thing? Could have sworn we saw you vanish completely beneath it.” Johnny asks, grabbing the rope.
“The spear broke, but it still left enough room under it for me to wiggle out. Ingrid’s going to give me an earful about this, though…” He sighs, starting to wrap rope around the beast’s front legs.
“It’s not like she made them. Only one broken weapon’s a good turnout for a hunting trip.” Rob mutters, helping Johnny tie up the rear legs.
“Won’t change the earful I get.” Rann says, pulling the rope around the front legs tight. “Right. Back onto its stomach, then the nets over it.”
With another loud number of grunts, the four get the beast back on its stomach. Han and I pull the net over it, tying it to the rope around its hind legs, pulling it tight to get the beast’s body as small as possible to fit it on the sled.
With the net secured around it, Rann, Einar, Johnny and Robb each grab ropes, trying to pull the carcass onto the sled.
It moves a few inches through the mud, only after a great amount of effort expended, before Rann sighs, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“All of you, get up here and help get this damn oversized bear on the damn sled.” He says, panting quietly.
With a look, now all of us are on the sled, straining and pulling as hard as we can on ropes to get this damn stupid oversized bear on this damn sled. Eventually, after enough sweat, grit, and swearing, we pull it onto the sled, half of us falling into the mud from exhaustion once it’s secured to it.
“Falian’s damn… ugh… Who’s on sled duty?” Johnny grunts, rubbing his shoulder.
“Rob and I. Come on, let’s get this back home. We’re having the best damn cuts and the finest damn furs when we return!” Rann calls, met by a chorus of cheers.
The journey home was blissfully uneventful. We made our way back through camp, along the edge of the woods near the stonefields, then back down the gradual downhill slope of the seeping wound. We were all exhausted and filthy, but the lot of us were positively drooling over the thought of tasting meat after so long without it.
I, for one, was coated with blood on my front, and wounded in my leg, which was thankfully minor. Arshak and Arshiya, who technically didn’t have to pull the sled but helped keep it steady on the way back, had mud all over their arms from fishing arrows out of the mud. Lucky for them, they found every last one, saving them from a haranguing by the irritable blacksmith. Rann was knocked over into the mud both ways, and his pants were caked in it. Rob, Einar and Johnny had all worked up a sweat, while Han sheepishly followed along behind the sled, feeling bad for accidentally wounding me no matter how many times I accepted his apologies.
I had one worry, though, that no one else shared. When the bloodbeast roared, I worried about the attention it would attract. Nothing came for us while we were loading it onto the sled, and no other noises were heard as we made our way back. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was tailing us. I had raised that concern, and Einar and the twins had spread out to make sure we weren’t being followed. They found nothing, but I couldn’t shake that feeling.
I never saw or heard anything myself, I just… had that feeling, that hunch. That tingle on the back of my neck. Something was following us, but it was keeping its distance, always slinking away when I felt it was close, then slowly creeping back in. Whatever it was, though, it never tried to stop us or intercept us, it just watched us. All the way down the seeping wound.
Once we turned off from the seeping wound though, it seemed to vanish. Before long, we were back outside the gates of Haven, several yells and cheers of joy sounding as the town gates opened.
We were home.