Somadina was eating akara when the tree started screaming.

And it was the good kind too. Stuffed full with onions and red peppers and fried until they browned; they were one of his specialities. One moment he was shoving the round ball of deliciousness into his face hole, and the next, the branch he was sitting on began to vibrate and the tree let out a single, ear-piercing shriek.

Now this event on its own wasn’t particularly unusual. He was in the Forest of Dreams after all, and as such, it was expected for weird things to happen in there. Why, just that morning, when he’d first entered the forest, he’d stumbled across some lavagrass sitting on a patch of fused glass and two hours ago he’d caught a glimpse of what he could have sworn was a sparrow-hare nibbling on some fruits.

Also, this tree was centuries old, the anwansi it had gathered in its long life having had enough time to condense into a rudimentary soul. So it was natural for it to have gained some sentience in all that time.

What would have been surprising was the tree not screaming.

Somadina rose to his feet, stuffing the rest of the akara into his mouth and carelessly wiping his oily hands on the seat of his loincloth. He hooked the slipping strap of the garment back onto his shoulders and waited, listening hard. The normal sounds of the forest were silenced, save for his tree’s screaming and he looked around, trying to discover what had upset it.

He didn’t have to look for long.

Somadina watched with rising dread as the culprit stalked into view. A huge, vaguely humanoid creature, the Direbeast raised its bleached white face and sniffed noisily. A thick coating of pitch-black fur erupted from its shoulders, running down its back before terminating in a long, prehensile tail that snatched at the air like a snake. Despite how high up he was, the aura of wrongness emanating from it was nearly overwhelming. The Direbeast sniffed again and snarled, displaying an impressive set of jagged, razor-sharp teeth.

Mentally, Somadina ran through his options. None of them looked promising.

Direbeasts, like all Aberrations, were some of the foulest things to walk the world of Citadel. Born in the deepest, darkest parts of the spirit world, they often escaped to the physical plane through rifts and Nexus Gates located throughout the planet. Ruthless and cruel, if it sensed Somadina, it would stop at nothing until it sunk those teeth into his flesh and devoured his soul. A situation which would be quite unfortunate.

Somadina knew the smartest course of action was to wait it out. Even though his tree was Awake, its soul brimming with anwansi, he knew there were other, much richer targets in the forest. Direbeasts were usually death sentences to anyone but a Practitioner, and even then, dibias of that rank found them challenging foes.

But Somadina wasn’t even an Adept, the lowest rank possible. He was an unbonded, a being untouched by magic and as such, completely defenceless against even a Direling. If he was lucky, the Direbeast would catch the scent of an older soul tree or even an elephant-chimp or some other soul beast and move on. It was common knowledge that Aberrations, particularly the lower-ranked ones, preferred prey with an active core.

But luck wasn’t on his side. He watched, heart sinking as the Direbeast snorted and began rooting around a bush. Right where he’d kept his satchel.

Now normal people with a bit of common sense would be all too willing to sacrifice their satchel and whatever treasures it might contain in exchange for keeping their limbs firmly attached to their body.

But Somadina wasn’t normal. He was unbonded, which meant there were very few jobs he could do to support himself and his mother; save for venturing into a forest most people in their right minds avoided, scrounging around for spirit materials and selling those for a couple of manillas. The past week had been a particularly dry spell and he’d only stumbled across a couple of wilted moondews when he’d all but given up. If he lost this batch, they would starve.

So, despite every nerve in his body telling him not to, Somadina rapidly climbed down the tree and yelled for the monster’s attention. It whirled around immediately, blood-red eyes focusing on him like a vice.

“You smell bad,” he told it intelligently, then turned and fled when it roared and charged.

“Human!” it thundered as it crashed after him. Its voice was twisted and cracked and unmistakably laced with the promise of a swift death.

Wonderful, Somadina thought. It can talk.

The fact that the Direbeast could speak meant two things. First, it was fairly intelligent. At least on the level of a six-year-old child. Second and more importantly, it was most likely decades old and hence probably very experienced in hunting down suicidal unbonded and sucking what little anwansi he had from his sweet, succulent flesh.

Somadina frowned at the thought, feet pumping hard. He preferred his flesh unsucked and undrained of life-giving magic. Thank you very much. In retrospect, maybe attracting the Aberration’s attention hadn’t been a good idea.

“Stand still,” it bellowed. “I make death very quick.”

Somadina leapt over a fallen tree, simultaneously dodging a couple of boulders. But the Direbeast charged on recklessly, exploding the tree and boulders into tiny bits of kindling and dust. It didn’t even look winded.

Yup. This had definitely been a bad idea.

Somadina knew the odds of him successfully outrunning the monster were slim. The best option was to lead it to Omata which was filled with Disciple and Practitioner level dibias that would have no issues dispatching of the monster.

The problem?

The village was in the opposite direction. Compounding his issues was that the part of the forest he was headed for was wilder and untamed and contained soul beasts and regular animals that would most certainly love a taste of human meat.

Clamping down on his growing anxiety, Somadina tried to think of a plan. His foot caught on a root and he stumbled, quickly regaining his balance after a terrifying split second of dizziness. But the damage had already been done. The monster surged forward with a triumphant roar, its breath caressing the small of Somadina’s back.

Now quite panicked, Somadina ran through his observations. This Direbeast was built like a tank, short and compact, which told him it wasn’t meant for all-out speed. If it were, he would have already been caught and digested. Rather, that body structure was suited to long, steady chases. This was a predator that relied on wearing its prey down until it fell over from exhaustion. A tactic that Somadina could attest to its efficiency judging from his shortness of breath and the rapidly increasing burning in his chest. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. Somadina’s gaze rested on the upcoming sharp bend. Not unless he…

Acting on a hunch, Somadina turned suddenly into the side path, leaping over yet another fallen tree. A weak grin spread across his face as the Direbeast crashed into the undergrowth, his gamble paying off. He’d guessed right. A body like that, while durable, simply wasn’t built for quick turns. The Direbeast roared its outrage, then continued the chase but Somadina had already gained a sizable head start.

Yet, his breathing was even more ragged now, his pumping legs feeling more and more like wooden blocks. Ahead, the forest thinned to a clearing, bisected neatly by a fast-flowing river that plunged downwards into nothingness.

Just a few more seconds, he begged as he made a beeline for the waterfall, the monster’s footfalls echoing like thunder behind him.

“Human!” it screamed, oblivious to the river they were headed to. “Stand still.”

In response, Somadina put on even more speed and then, when he was nearly at the edge of the ravine, turned left and leapt across the narrowest part with all his might. An Adept child would have made a jump like that with their eyes closed, but Somadina barely cleared it, landing in a bone-shaking heap on the sand.

“Ow,” he said.

Taking great gasps of air, Somadina managed to sit up. It was just in time to see the beast realise what was about to happen, attempt and fail to stop itself, then plunge into the river, swept away by the current down the fall.

Somadina released a great sigh and crashed back down, closing his eyes and moaning. While the drop probably wouldn’t be enough to kill the Direbeast—unless the waterfall was much bigger than he thought, in which case he was really grateful he’d made that jump— he’d at least bought himself a few minutes of rest. More than enough time to retrieve his satchel and return to the safety of the village.

He lay there for what felt like hours, getting his thundering heart in control. Letting out a final breath, he opened his eyes, stared for a full second, then closed it again with an unbelieving groan, wondering what he’d done to anger the Mother.

For hovering a few inches from his face, was the glowing end of a staff.

***

The problem with being chased by a monster hell-bent on your destruction and then narrowly escaping with your life is that it tends to leave one drained and unable to respond properly to new threats. And so it was that when Somadina opened his eyes again, he simply stared at the staff end aimed at his face and frowned.

“There’s a stain on your staff,” he said.

“What?”

“Your staff. It’s stained.” Somadina frowned some more. “Is that blood? You really should take better care of your weapons.”

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The staff vanished, replaced by the astonished face of a young woman and Somadina felt a tiny wisp of heat crawl into his stomach and stay there.

A very gorgeous young woman.

Even lying on his back, he could tell that she was taller than him. Thick, black braids tumbled from her head down to her waist and her skin was a healthy dark brown, complimenting the fire in her bright, orange eyes. She paused and examined her staff, before realising what she was doing and trained it back on him.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Somadina opened his mouth, about to answer, then a rustling came from the bush behind them.

"Kainene? What’s going on?” asked a voice. “Any trouble?”

“No trouble.” Kainene glared at Somadina, as if daring him to contradict her. He wisely held up his arms in surrender. “I’ve got it under control Olisa.”

The voice’s owner came anyway and Somadina’s breath caught a second time. He was just as gorgeous as his partner. And just as tall. His eyes and long hair was a riot of silver and pale blue with skin even darker than Kainene’s.

Almost as dark as mine, Somadina thought idly. He also didn’t need to look at the tattoos of a fox and an egret on their necks to know that they were dibias. And powerful ones at that.

It wasn’t often that Somadina was shaken by cultivators. He’d grown up surrounded by people that looked like they'd been sculpted by the Father Himself; a side effect of having anwansi running through your veins since you were a child.

But these two knocked the wind out of him. He suspected that they were stronger than most dibias he'd met and those would have an easy time squashing him like an insect.

Not that they would. At least not without a very good reason. It was usually a thing of great shame to murder someone far below your rank. And the people of Omata were fairly easygoing on top of that. But then, these were strangers. They could kill him now and be on their merry way and no one would ever know.

Thankfully, they didn’t seem like they were inclined towards murder. The young man, Olisa, cocked his head and stared at Somadina, like a lion cub that had just discovered a particularly interesting insect.

“You’re from the village beyond, aren’t you?” he asked softly, waving a hand in the vague direction of Omata. “You’re a bit far from home.”

“What does it matter where he is from Olisa? We have to determine whether or not he is a threat to us.” She brandished her staff some more. “I’ll ask again. Who are you? And how are you hiding your soulmark?”

Somadina hesitated, gauged their earlier discussion and reckoned it was safe to get to his feet. Sure enough, Kainene scowled but made no move to stop him.

“My name is Somadina Nwora. I’m from Omata like you guessed,” he said. He kept his tone low and deferential, well aware of the position of his clan name—a sign that he wasn’t related enough by blood to the ruling family of his clan to have it come first—and the fact that was in the presence of those who could rip his arms off his body and beat him to death with it. “I’m not hiding my soulmark. I don’t have any.”

“Lies,” said Kainene, glaring. Somadina tensed, thinking she was about to attack, but she merely let the staff fall to her side. Somadina shivered as she scanned him, the spiritual sweep feeling, as always, like he’d been plunged into cold water. He watched as her expression morphed from incredulity to shock, then to something close to pity.

“Father who made me. It is true.”

Olisa stared at Somadina with open fascination. “How?”

“I am not native to this region,” he replied, careful to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “So, I can’t use the village’s Firstborn scroll.”

They looked puzzled for a moment as this sank in. Somadina didn’t blame them. It was a facet of life one didn’t think of until it concerned you. Everyone, from the meanest village to the domains ruled by the Great Clans, kept their unique Firstborn scrolls closely guarded. It was certainly not given to outsiders. Though his mother had arrived when she was pregnant with him and had stayed on for his eighteen years of life, she hadn’t married into the town. Most of the villagers were hospitable, even kind, but it was quite understood that she, and by extension Somadina, were foreign.

“What are you doing so far from civilization then?” Kainene demanded. The staff had long since vanished into its sheath on her back. Clearly an unbonded was no threat. “You could have been killed.”

“I had my reasons,” he replied, unwilling to tell them everything. They were around his age, true, and unfairly cute, but it still didn’t stop them from being unknown strangers. Who knew what nefarious plot had brought them to this part of the Forest?

Kainene narrowed her eyes, unsatisfied with the answer, but then she glanced at the sun.

“You should get going. It’s nearly midday and we’ve seen Direbeasts around this area. You don't want to be here after dark.”

I noticed. But Somadina thanked them anyway and headed back to the river, feeling their electric gazes boring into his back.

Strange, he thought as he found a section with a slower current and began to wade through. Very strange. Those two had behaved nothing like the youths back in Omata; proud, vain creatures that often went out of their way to remind him of all the things that they were and he was not.

Wringing his clothes off of as much water as he could, Somadina gave a single look back at the now empty beach and began to head back to the now silent tree. With luck, his satchel would still be where he left it.

He turned right, avoiding the path of destruction the Direbeast had carved in its chase, deciding he had had quite enough excitement for one day.

So, naturally, he immediately came face to face with the snarling face of yet another Direbeast.

***

It took Somadina a depressingly long amount of time to realise that he wasn't about to be torn open and eaten.

What his tired mind had taken for a ravenous beast was merely a statue and after laughing a little at himself, he rose shakily to his feet. An overdue body check revealed no sprained or broken bones. A minor miracle considering how badly he'd landed. Now that he was free from danger, his injuries decided to make themselves known. Two pulsating stings accompanied the angry red of the heels of his palms and his kneecaps raised a protest when he moved. A large, brown stain clung to the seat of his now shredded loincloth, making it look like he had shat himself.

Which, Somadina thought sourly, was a perfect metaphor for how his day had gone so far. Still, he was quite grateful. He hadn’t been murdered, either by Direbeast or dibia, and a sprained or broken leg would have meant limping back to the village like an old man. Something that would have sucked majorly.

Exhaling through his teeth, and holding onto the statue for support, Somadina shuffled forward, searching. A lifetime of scavenging had taught him the signs. The statue, while made of stone and hence, nearly worthless, had to have come from somewhere. Perhaps a dead village or a defunct outpost. Both of which would have been established in an area rich with supplies.

At first, he found nothing save for further clumps of lavagrass. He avoided those, leery of adding burned feet to his repertoire of injuries. Also, lavagrass was valuable everywhere but Omata, where they were among the most common of spirit materials. While selling them would net him a few coins, it wouldn’t be worth anywhere near the hassle of uprooting them and safely carrying them back to the village. Heading left, he turned into a side path, sending a swarm of butterflies scattering with the motion. Waving the insects away, he pushed through the undergrowth and emerged into a clearing.

Somadina grinned widely. He loved it whenever a gamble paid off.

Scattered throughout the area were stalks of quartz-flowers, blooms of bright yellow sunlilies and even a few giant specimens of the always in demand glowshrooms. Pleasantly stunned by the rare find, Somadina hurried forward with glee, aching wounds forgotten. A small cave yawned ominously before him, but he ignored it as he made for his prize. Mourning the lack of his satchel, which was back at the screaming soul tree, Somadina began yanking off the leaves of a nearby plantain plant. He tore the giant leaf in two and went to work. The quartz-flowers and sunlilies went to one half, the delicate gems at their centres wrapped up carefully. The other half received a healthy serving of the glowshrooms' spores as Somadina knew better than to take them out of the ground. A single, full-grown glowshroom was worth fifty manillas. Spores were worth much more.

Tying up the folded bundles, Somadina looked around. He'd barely scratched at the surface of what the clearing had to offer and he knew that if he took only what he needed and allowed it to heal itself, he'd just found a never-ending source of wealth. Pleased at the thought, Somadina hoisted the bundles onto his shoulders and was turning to leave when a glint of light caught his eye.

It had come from the cave. Somadina stood there for a moment, peering into its depths. He knew at this point that he was just being greedy and was very much pushing his luck for the day, but his scavenger spirit quailed at the thought of leaving a potentially bountiful area unexplored.

"You're just asking to be murdered," he muttered, dropping his packages by the entrance, then went in.

The cave was much deeper than he'd anticipated and after taking a few steps in complete darkness, Somadina considered turning around. But a few more steps brought him into the light of a glowshroom. A short tunnel gaped at him and after offering a short prayer to the Mother for protection, he plunged in. Unlike before, more glowshrooms lit the way, and encouraged, he hurried his pace, eventually bursting free into a truly immense cavern.

"Mother save me," he whispered, a line of drool making its way down his chin.

The cavern put the bounty outside to shame.

Giant spires of crystallised anwansi thrust themselves upwards, each aglow in all of magic’s fifteen colours. Even unbonded, Somadina could feel the little magic that made up his soul swirl in response. Stacks of what were clearly disassembled devices lined the ground, some of them appearing to still be in working condition. Fields and piles of spirit materials, many of them samples he didn't recognise, stretched away as far as he could see and the walls of the cavern itself glowed with power, covered with scripts he couldn't read. Somadina stared, mouth wide open, as he realised just what he’d stumbled into.

Like all children, he'd grown up hearing of the Sages, dibias who had walked so deeply down their path of cultivation that they were barely human anymore. Most became wanderers, partly because their sheer magical presence would overwhelm and kill most dibias and partly to seek out what mysteries becoming a Sage unlocked to them. In the process, most experimented with magic, creating new and varied artefacts and devices. There hadn’t been a Sage in this part of Oreze for centuries, so the rare devices found here were quite often old and usually inactive.

But, some of those artefacts did manage to survive the ages on occasion and dibias regularly fought over the chance to study them, no matter how damaged they were. There were also stories of hideouts, places where Sages made a temporary home, but he'd never believed he would find one. Somadina looked around in reverence, rightly recognising that he might be the first human to enter this area in centuries.

His gaze landed on a pile of books and he moved forward automatically, the rest of the cavern's treasures briefly forgotten. Kneeling, he picked one at random and raised it to the light.

It was battered and very old, but it didn't crumble away to dust when he gently opened it. Like the scripts on the wall, he couldn't read it, save for an addition at the front page that was written in more familiar lettering. It merely said: PROPERTY OF OMALIKO DIKE.

Somadina frowned at that. The Omaliko clan was one he was only vaguely familiar with, but he was fairly certain they weren’t all that important. What was a book by one of their Sages doing here?

His only answer was a rumble in his stomach, reminding him that he had yet to eat anything substantial that day. Looking around one last time, he took the book and made his way back out. He had no illusions of being able to crack that cryptic of a script. One of the scholars in Omata could probably do it, but he had no idea what he could offer to earn their aid. And even if he did, they would probably end up just taking it from him. His hope, if you could call it that, was that the writer had added in more notes that he could read and then, maybe, he could make heads or tails of the book. Stepping out into the sunlight, he added the book to the bundles outside and hoisted the whole thing onto his head.

It's midday, he thought, frowning at the blue sky. Better get a move on. Taking a deep breath and keeping both hands on the bundle, Somadina began the long trek back to his satchel and Omata.