Six days. Or was it seven? Revin was losing track. Snow fell. Again. Creatures moaned and roared. Occasionally, leaves rustled and snow crunched softly behind him, but when he looked, no beasts were revealed, only snow dropping from the occasional tree. Had the branches been disturbed? Or were they just overladen?

Sleeping was almost impossible, despite the large fires he arranged. He was deaf and blind without Blackfire. Naked to the elements and to the predators. Had he really relied on Blackfire that much?

He jerked, looking around for a sound. He rubbed his eyes. How much sleep had he gotten? Two hours? Maybe? It was getting harder and harder to think straight. Blackfire wasn’t there to bounce thoughts and impressions off of. His mind felt as cold as the world around him.

Revin knew the wilderness back on the island. But this place was alien. Most familiar fruit trees were nearly barren in the cold. The rumble in his stomach made him miss Blackfire even more. No meat today. A sword wasn’t a very good hunting weapon.

The orientation of the setting sun made north clear, when it wasn’t covered by a haze of white clouds. Most of the time, north was almost impossible to discern and all the mountains and trees looked the same. He scanned the sky for a column of smoke or any sign of civilization. He thought he saw one a few days ago but wondered if he had imagined it.

But, despite his roughly northern direction, Revin didn’t know what he wanted to do. Would he go home? Face his father? Face the other monks as a failure? Waiting for Narazoth to come all the same?

Blackfire… Blackfire was gone. It didn’t seem real, how could someone that was such a part of him just be…. gone? He tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere, lest the darkness return.

He turned to the Remnant of Remiveyn. He had pulled it from Ismander’s things, along with the last bits of food. The Remnant of Remiveyn was an old, rolled up piece of leather with writing burned deep within. The grammar and spelling showed it to be old, even ancient. He had to read some sections several times and out loud for them to start making a little sense.

Ov north ov old Kerdun lay in maity opulence. Bespend the coin and mynd on metal and rotunds ov technical concording. Ov death and weyt were its weapons, crushing to earth. Men stood, then beknelt neath blades befallen…

The pathing sky their strength, their falling…

The flesh begone, souls bound in industry. Their end born ov death-dabbling, ‘til maity lyfe-armor fails and death pierces. Lyfe ended though fleeing perishment.

The ancient grammar was hard to follow. Ismander had mentioned Kerdun’s weapons only briefly. Revin wished she had spoken more of Narazoth’s power sooner, but she probably wasn’t expecting to die.

He wanted to talk it out with someone. But no one was there. He was even denied the basic companionship of Blackfire. His only friend. His closest friend. This time, like most days, he couldn’t hold back the darkness. It overwhelmed him, urging him to just lay down on the earth. To just give up, to not expend another ounce of energy. For to care was to hurt, and to hurt was darkness. He wished he could return to the numbness, where his feet stepped on their own accord, and his mind wandered through fields of nothing, much like this colorless frozen landscape devoid of life, thought, and emotion. Devoid of companionship.

He felt like he was the only man in the world.

✦✦✦

Revin descended another hill into a new grove of the dark pine trees. His shoulders were bruising hard from his pack. He wanted to drop the heavy weight, lay down, and sleep. But he had to find people, or he was going to run out of food. Revin wondered if this land had any people at all.

He stared at his feet as he slowly marched through the snow, grateful for sturdy shoes. Something groaned nearby, and Revin looked up.

He was standing amid a herd of beasts. They reminded him of rhinos, except they bore three horns, their faces beaked, with large shields sprouting from the crowns of their heads. His eyes widened in fear. He wondered if they ate meat.

His heart thundered in his chest. He wondered what he should do apart from standing as still as he could. He looked to the side as a small horn-creature waddled behind the others, trying to catch up. The herd was starting to pass him by.

None were standing close enough to touch, except the small one. Mastering any of these beasts could help him survive in this wild land. He started to crouch down, slowly, reaching for the juvenile horn-face.

“Hey,” Revin said softly, the words feeling odd after so much silence.

The small creature cocked its head and approached slowly, sniffing at him.

He reached even further. “Come here.”

Something moaned with a deep bass. Revin’s smile dropped and he turned, slowly. One of the large three-horned lizards barreling through the snow and branches, headed straight for him.

No longer frozen, Revin let out a curse, abandoning the creature and scrambling back up the hill, the earth thundering behind him. He ran for a tree near the top, climbing it with great effort, his muscles stiff. As he heaved himself onto a branch, the tree shook. He looked down, watching the monster headbutt the trunk again. Revin’s feet hung just a few feet higher than the creature’s horns. It slammed again. Snow, leaves, and branches fell with each collision, dropping a rush of cold down his shirt.

It moaned angrily again, glaring. But when Revin refused to fall, it turned around, ushering the smaller creature back to the herd. Revin realized with a frown that the little creature was the first thing he’d spoken to since Narazoth.

He waited a long time before he climbed down again.

✦✦✦

Revin lay on his cloak, breathing softly. Small footsteps skittered nearby. The fire was low but still burning. The tiny footsteps surrounded him, then came closer.

He only pretended to sleep. As he’d travelled, he’d heard dozens of small feet pitter-pattering behind him, when he ran back to check, he only found an empty trail, often marked with dozens of tiny footprints. Something clever had been following him.

A faint crunch of snow sounded somewhere near his nose, and Revin’s eyes snapped open. He faced a small, bipedal lizard, its tiny, narrow head revealing sharp teeth. Tiny feathers ran down its back, arms, and legs.

Revin leaped to his feet, looking around. Several lizards snarled and jumped at him, biting at his legs. Revin laughed. Their tiny teeth only helped clean his metal-weave mastersuit.

One leaped at his face, jumping far higher than he expected. He half stumbled backward, sweeping his arms in panic, knocking it back and tossing aside a few others he only just noticed. One climbed the arm of his robe and he grabbed it by the neck. He dove into its mind.

He sensed intelligence or at least cleverness, and it defied Revin’s control. Revin, however, was more than a match for this little lizard. He forced his mind in, broke the creature’s will, and mastered it.

Revin released it with one hand as he grabbed another nipping saurian, mastering it quickly and letting go. The unmastered lizards tried a counterattack, regrouping and charging again. But their anger quickly became confusion when their mastered fellows hissed and jumped in the way. He took advantage of this and grabbed more. In turn, he reached into each of their little minds and lassoed their wills to his.

The creatures looked at him inquisitively and obediently. Revin sat on the ground with a sigh, looking at his newfound companions. He smiled.

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“You, my little friends, are going to help me now.” He investigated their minds. He was shocked to find that they thought much like birds. Quick-thinking and inquisitive, with a sixth sense for the magnetic directions of the world visible as impressions of light and dark over their vision. Revin found himself laughing and crying in relief. He’d prayed they would be something like birds. Now he could finally find his way without the sun.

But which way did he want to go?

He gave them each a firm mental command to keep watch, and to wake him if anything came close. Those decisions could come on the morrow. For tonight, now that he had something to watch over him. He finally collapsed into a sleep far more restful than he’d had in weeks.

✦✦✦

Revin woke to anxious chittering in his ears and mind, he shook his head and felt an overwhelming wave of fear. He looked at the small saurians and jerked back, almost forgetting he had mastered them the night before.

“What is it?” Revin said.

They looked at him with concern, tugging on his sleeve, pulling him away from the forest in front of him. But his command to remain near hovered in their minds, holding them back.

He felt a thundering rhythm in the earth. He sat up all the way, looking around. Something huge approached. He reached out and sensed a very intelligent animal’s mind. Something…

Big.

The branches trembled. Icicles fell. Revin slowly stood, a trickle of chilling primal fear crawling down his spine. Branches exploded with a shower of snow as something huge burst into the clearing and stood erect.

Ismander had been telling the truth. This titan put Tungol to shame. It towered over Revin, not much shorter than the trees themselves. Its two massive legs stood like trunks. Its red, turquoise, and violet feathers glinted in the moonlight, contrasting starkly against the white forest behind it. Its massive head looked down on him, and its toothy maw was big enough to swallow Revin whole.

Revin froze. It took another step forward, its giant, three-toed foot crushing branches and snow. The ground trembled with the impact of such a heavy weight landing. Revin flinched. His heart drummed a harsh rhythm, his hands trembling and tingly. He wanted to run, but hesitated. The thing wasn’t attacking. It just stared at him, almost motionless. Its stoic gaze was hard to read from so far away. His own lizards were frozen in place, their terror more than seeping into his own mind. They didn’t want him to move. Revin took a step forward, and one of his lizards grabbed his pant leg, tugging, the others letting out faint yips of fear. He ignored them, taking yet another step toward the monster.

It slowly lowered its head. Revin tensed, but its mouth remained closed. A small cloud of moist breath puffed from its nose. Their eyes met, and Revin had a faint sense of its mind. There was… desperation… and determination.

Revin reached for its snout to peer deeper into its mind. Perhaps even to master it. His fingertip touched the creature’s nose. The bumpy surface was surprisingly warm. He closed his eyes, his mind beginning its descent into the dark space of seeing another’s thoughts.

The head jerked away from his hand and there was a loud bang. Revin opened his eyes as the great beast whipped upward, Revin flinched back, falling to the ground. The beast let out a thunderous roar, dropping snow from the trees in chunks and showers. It was so loud he could only desperately cover his ears.

With a single mighty bound, the creature leaped over Revin’s camp, its bright plumage disappearing into the whiteness.

He felt a spike of disappointment, then his stomach sank in a rush of worry. That had been a gun. The memories returned. Blood, torn flesh, pain. Reddening snow and fluttering eyes. The sad gaze of Blackfire. Trembling, Revin turned toward the explosive sound.

A young man carrying a long gun raced into the clearing, his eyes wide in fear. Revin let out a sigh of relief, taking in deep breaths. Not a metal man.

“Are you insane?” he shouted in a strange accent, his consonants sharp.

He looked Revin up and down, his brown eyes narrowing in concern. Revin looked at himself. His facial hair was out of control, his clothes bore random tears and rips, and he was filthy.

“Probably,” Revin said. He let out a half laugh, half cry. Another person.

“What happened to you?” the young man said as he approached, stepping cautiously. He wore a long blue and green coat that went to his knees, its angles sharp.

Revin didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, he found himself laughing. He couldn’t stop. A mixture of relief and hysteria just rolled out of him in gasping breaths, his back hunched over and his eyes watered.

The young man got closer, eyeing Revin like he was crazy. “You know what that was, right?”

“No idea,” Revin said between laughs, wiping his eyes.

The young man studied Revin, “That was a giganoto, you know, larger relative of the crushjaw?”

Revin had no idea what the man was talking about, but he didn’t care. He was talking to another human being again.

“Who are you?” the young man said.

Revin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, sitting down on a rock that the giganoto’s foot had cleared of snow.

A rush of fear hit Revin. Who was this man? Why was he here? He eyed the man’s gun.

“I’d… rather not say,” Revin said. “I don’t have many friends around here.”

“You and me both,” the man said. “My name is Kaiato. I mean you no harm.”

Revin’s eyes fell on the gun again, his breathing increasing. His hands shaking. Kaiato looked to his weapon, then set it down. “It’s all right.”

Revin took a steadying breath. “I’m Revin.”

The young man’s brow was still furrowed in confusion. He looked at Revin’s metal-weave mastersuit and his robes. “Where are you from? I don’t recognize your accent.”

“The Hiriv island,” Revin said.

“Never heard of it,” Kaiato said. “I’m from Koyeji.”

It was Revin’s turn to look confused. “I’ve never heard of it either,” he said.

Kaiato glanced behind Revin. His eyes widened and he jumped, grabbing his gun again. Revin flinched, putting his hands up. “Whoa, don’t shoot, please!” He covered his head, cowering.

No shots came. Revin looked up, Kaiato was aiming his gun at Revin’s little lizards, who hid in trees and bushes. Their fear spilling into him, and his into them.

“Please, please,” Revin said, “Don’t hurt them.”

“Are you a lodestone to carnivores or something?” Kaiato shouted, “Those compies will kill you while you sleep!”

“No, no, no. They’re mine,” Revin said, turning back to the creatures. He gave a mental command for them to form a circle. They did so.

Kaiato stepped next to Revin, lowering his gun and cocking his head. “What in the-”

Revin commanded. They formed a triangle, a square, and jumped up and down in unison.

“I’ve got special, uh, skills, we’ll call them.”

Kaiato approached the lizards curiously and knelt. Revin had them approach Kaiato slowly.

“How?” Kaiato did not raise his gun, though he still looked nervous.

“It’s called Beastspeaking.”

“That’s… that’s magic,” Kaiato said.

Revin nodded. “Sure.”

Revin looked to where the beast had gone. “So… these giantos-”

“Giganotos,” Kaiato corrected.

“How often do they sneak up, and then attack?”

Kaiato frowned. “Never. They usually smash into your camp, snatch a person or saurian up, and run off. That’s if you don’t run into a pack of them.”

Revin’s eyes opened wide. “Those things move in packs?”

“Half the time. Those camps rarely have survivors. You’re lucky.”

Revin looked at Kaiato. His clothing seemed to be in better shape than Revin’s. “Do you think… we could travel together?”

“You sure look like someone who’s never travelled alone,” Kaiato said, looking Revin up and down again.

Revin’s heart caught in his throat. Alone. He saw those yellow and black eyes in a sea of dark fur. The yellow was bordered with a deep ring of orange at the edges. The swirls of dark hair outlining a brow, granting depth to that gaze. Blackfire’s gaze. Once piercing. Now lifeless.

“I… wasn’t alone.” Revin said.

Revin proceeded to tell Kaiato all that had happened since he had left home. About Ismander, the metal men, and Narazoth. It was hard to speak of the deaths, when they had happened so recently. The moments of death replaying repeatedly, causing him to stutter. Kaiato watched him, at first suspicious, then his gaze turned sympathetic.

“I’d been afraid that the giganoto had done it,” Kaiato said. “I don’t know what a wolf is, but I’m sorry you lost it. You sound… like you were close.”

Revin’s body stiffened, his muscles tightening. As if through physical effort alone he could change the past. “He was my brother, the only one who really understood me, stood by me.”

Revin blinked the moisture out of his eyes.

“I’ve been alone for quite some time,” Kaiato said, “I… I’d appreciate someone to talk to. But us travelling together depends on where you’re going.”

“Any city in Ateya,” Revin said.

Kaiato frowned. “I can lead you to the nearest city, but then you’re on your own.”

“Where are you going then?” Revin said.

Kaiato narrowed his eyes. “North.”

“But there aren’t any cities north, right?”

Kaiato gave Revin a firm look. “I said I’d lead you to a city. Then I’m heading north.”

Revin cocked his head. “Why are you so afraid of cities?”

Kaiato gave Revin a frustrated look. “The Ateyans and the Koyejihu hate each other.”

“Why?” Revin said.

Kaiato was speechless for a moment, grasping for words, “Be-because we always have.”

“Then why in the world are you wandering the Ateyan wilderness?”

“I’m not,” Kaiato said. “Well, not really. Ateya owns these forests, but no one lives in them. It’s too far north.”

“Not too far north for you?” Revin said with a smile.

Kaiato let out a bitter half-chuckle. “The further the better.”

“Then why are you willing to help me at all?”

Kaiato looked at him. He shook his head. “Because Koyejihu don’t believe in letting a stranger die in the woods. I will get you to an Ateyan city, but no Ateyan will see my face if I can help it.”

Revin nodded. “Th-thank you.”

Kaiato nodded. “Let me retrieve my pack, I’ve got a blanket that can serve as a better coat.”

As Kaiato walked away, Revin looked up to the sky. He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t going to starve. He offered a silent prayer of thanks to Father God.