We sit atop a cliff overlooking our new home and the mountain of work in front of us. The specks below are as numerous and daunting as any obstacle we've. If not, more. The ground is crowded with demons, and the sky is full of them. Lizard bats make up most of the flying fiends. Smaller dragon-type creatures, wyverns, are also in the flying mix, along with shadow vultures, harpies, and gross snake things.

Despite the beauty of our land, it is littered with chaos. Fortunately, this chaos is being waged amongst the demons. There is just as much fighting between the separate groups as there is peace. Unfortunately, the infighting isn't on a scale large enough to thin the demon uprising. We are lucky that we arrived here when we did. Any later and the hope of establishing a homestead would be diminished and not just dire.

Terrible screeching from the shrill bats make it up to our elevation, destroying any chance for a pleasant mountain gandering session. "Freaking shrill bats," I say proudly, using my new name for the lizard bats.

"Don't like the sonic echoes?" Gene, who sits down beside me, asks. We've decided to take a break before we descend into the madness. That means food and rest for Gene and me and cultivation practice for the spiders who have become obsessed with the newly learned techniques.

"Does anyone. Sounds like an orgy of banshees that forgot to establish a safe word before they started…." I stop the words once I realize what is coming out of my mouth. I don't even bother looking over at Gene, who probably has a shocked and excited expression on her wolfish face. She and the spiders are entirely to blame for my crude outburst.

"You'd be surprised." Gene picks up the conversation without skipping a beat. "A few demons below become more invigorated under the howler's spell. Mostly it is the lizard kind."

"The drakes back in shadow didn't seem too enthused."

"Drakes are dysfunctional reptiles… if you can call them that, more like a wingless dragon.

"That's what I said." Silence looms over my agreement. Well, our silence looms. The invigorating bats are still relentlessly enthusiastic with their cries. I gaze over the valley, not worried about the dropped conversation.

Currently, my heart is torn. On the one hand, that lake nested next to the mountain is breathtaking. Living in a setting like that would be perfect. On the other hand, the ocean is calling, and I can feel my soul longing to be back in the thick of the waves. My thoughts and silence are broken when Gene urges on a new conversation.

"Li, if you want to stay up here, I can go down alone and clean up this mess. It's probably best if you do. Keep the core safe."

I keep my gaze on the distance and think over Gene's offer and her consideration. "Is death the only way?" I ask after some time.

"It is the only way I know. It is the only way the demons know. It is the only way the world knows."

"I know power takes what it can. Feels like rubbish, though." Gene allows the silence to linger, giving me space for more words. It's a struggle, but I eventually get them out. "You should have seen him, Gene. Just a small goblin runt. I got a glimpse of who he was when I met him. He struggled his whole life — abused by power. He should have been hungriest of all. And yet, instead of consuming, he saved the spiders… and the forest. I just killed and brought death."

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"I used to think that when I became strong enough, no more harm or danger would come to me or those I love. I pushed myself relentlessly, passing my teachers and, soon after, the leaders of my pack. No matter how much power I gained, it was never enough. I killed thousands of cultivators ranked lower than knights who were ordered to fight for another's end goal. Their blood brought me more power.

"I kept my people safe for a time; however, my hands were always bloody. Then stronger cultivators started coming. They didn't stop coming. I lost family and friends. My son and his wife died when we were so close to finishing the ritual. They were killed because they were not strong enough. Because I was not strong enough.

"Maybe the day will come when peace flows rather than blood. The time has yet to come for me and my people, so I will soak my hands so that they will not have to." Gene reaches over and places her arm on my shoulder. I look over to see her tear-soaked eyes.

"Li, my friend. Let me go down there alone. You don't need to fight here." Gene looks frailer now than she was as a fading spirit. Her life has not been a kind one, and yet she keeps on fighting. I reach for her hand on my shoulder and give her what little support I can offer. Maybe if I were Bones, I'd have the right words to say. Perhaps if I were Cru, I could solve the demon invasion peacefully.

My hands are entirely too small for their tasks. Still, I hold on. Quiet beating hearts drown out the noise. How often is peace pursued by the sword? How frequently are misery and sorrow bought instead? My friend's life is a testament to the broken promise of power getting what it wants.

My hands grow smaller under the weight. They're inadequate, but they are my hands. They are all I have for the moment. Hopefully they will grow to the task before me. They can become what I need them to be. Until then, they are all I have, and that is what I can offer my friend. I hold on just a little tighter.

"Gene, you will never have to fight alone again. Maybe one day we'll be able to wash our hands of the blood. Until then, we'll bloody our hands together and force power to yield to our desire." Upon hearing my words, Gene rests her weary head on my shoulder. Occasionally, I can feel the lightest drip fall on my chest.

"They're all dead, Li." I keep silent, allowing her the chance to talk freely. "My friends and family. All gone. We fought 'til the very end… hoping to create a future for our children and grandchildren. Every last parent stayed to fight for their kid's safety, and every single one died except me. Now I have five-hundred kids about to return to find their families are no longer. It isn't fair."

My chest swells and rips under the weight of Gene's words. I'm filled with emptiness and sorrow for what has been taken from the children and the world they'll return to. We aren't ready for this. How can we give the children a better life than what they will be getting?

"Part of me wants to rage and let my anger and hatred unravel. I could burn a good portion of this world down and a lot of corruption with it. I could train the children to be merciless killers without fear of death, and they would willingly follow to avenge their families. On Fury's back, I could bathe the world in shadow. I feel so lost and tired. I'm a shell of my former self, only the worst parts of me remaining."

I hold on to Gene just a little bit tighter. Seems just yesterday, I was vowing for a life of peace, and now I feel like burning the world down with Gene. My heart aches with her and the children who have lost everything. I feel so fragile and weak under the weight of all this and have no clue what to say or do. How does one make this right? What words can make this right? Can this ever be right…? I might as well be stranded in the desert for all the direction I can provide here.

So because there is nothing more I can do now, I offer all the support my small hands can give.