Revin and Blackfire strolled up a shallow slope in the Cracks, one of their favorite places to seek solitude. One could only handle so many chittering monks. His bruises had mostly healed, and he was happy to take a break from studying to wander again.

It was a strange, dark landscape made of broken hills, cliffs, and crevasses. To Revin’s right, there was a sheer drop, the crevasse a plummeting and narrowing split. Across the crevasse sat another cliff and hill. The Cracks looked like a dark, grey mountain but broken into a dozen pieces long ago. Each piece was, in turn, slowly crumbling over time.

The elevation never got too high, and the jutting stone made the area very secluded. And it just felt so… different from the rest of the island. Mountain springs and beautiful forests were good to look at, but the island was covered in them. When he was here, among the dark stones, he felt like he was free, finally gone from the island and the expectations of those around him.

Most of the monks did their best to ignore it. Its strangeness was their detractor and his enticement. The dark grey mineral that made up most of the Cracks was unique to this area. The mineral had a… relaxing aroma. No wonder the monks used it in their tea.

He pondered if those quiet monks used too much. Maybe that’s why they’re so content. He did wonder, if that were the case, why was he so… unsatisfied?

Revin wondered if he would find a good master in the west. His mother’s words still haunted him. “There are no perfect men, and power attracts the selfish.” But, ever since his father had so adamantly forbidden speaking of it, Revin couldn’t stop wondering about the lands east. Apart from the references to terrifying monsters and rampant wickedness, there was little mention of them in Hiriv writings, holy or otherwise.

Thunder boomed in the distance, shaking Revin out of his musings. The sky was clear. Blackfire’s keen ears heard it coming from the south.

“Come on,” Revin said, “let’s check it out.”

They descended far faster than they’d climbed, following the dark crevasse until they returned to the pines. The cracking of trees echoed, followed by a thunderous roar.

Blackfire whined and gingerly stepped backward. The hairs on the back of Revin’s neck stood up. What could make such a noise? A great beast burst through the trees. Revin shouted and tumbled to the ground.

It was as tall as a man and a half, and looked like a lizard… It had a long but thick mouth with rows of sharp teeth. Two short, bony horns stuck out of its head, and feathers ran in a narrow line down its back. A lizard with feathers? It was shorter than the serpent, but thicker, and it bore two muscular clawed arms and a pair of massive legs. Revin’s jaw hung slack in awe.

Running next to it was a woman carrying two contraptions. They looked like flutes with a wooden handle jutting from beneath and a loop for her index finger. One issued smoke and the other pointed at the trees. She wore the robes of a Hiriv monk, and her matted gray hair clung to her sweaty forehead. She looked like she’d been running for a while.

Four large and heavily armored men burst through the edge of the trees, scattering bark, branches and pine needles. Their spherical helmets had glowing turquoise eyes, but no nose or mouth. Each carried a blade or a spear. They had to be seven feet tall, their arms thicker than Revin’s legs.

The monk and the lizard looked upon their attackers. The monk was shorter, but the lizard was half a man taller. The armored men attacked. Three headed towards the lizard and one went in for the monk. The monk lowered her contraption, pulled a lever with her index finger, and thunder boomed again.

Revin covered his ears too late. Something small struck the man, tearing the metal, and a large puff of white smoke shot out of the contraption. The man continued stepping forward, terrifying, inevitable. The woman pocketed her contraptions and drew her sword. It bore a straight blade a couple of feet long, with a short handle that fit her one hand.

Revin grabbed a large stick from the ground and jumped to his feet. He ran towards the man that was going for the monk.

“Hey!” Revin yelled. The armored man looked just as Revin hit his helmet with his stick. The stick snapped in half.

The man studied him; turquoise glowing eyes emotionless. A chill went down Revin’s spine.

The man turned back to the older monk. With an angry shout she thrust her sword into the man’s shoulder. The sword snapped with a painful clang, but the man’s shoulder broke with a grinding crunch. His shoulder plate tore open, revealing gears working in the joints.

These weren’t men of flesh and blood; these were men of metal.

The metal man dropped its large sword from its twitching arm, and the stranger grabbed it, lifting it with all her might and ramming it into the metal man’s chest. Revin flinched at the scraping metal. The metal man fell to one knee before finally collapsing to the ground. Blackfire growled and barked at the tumbling contraption.

The monk grabbed her sword, which now only had half a blade, and charged. One lunged, and the lizard-creature grabbed the spear with its mouth, tossed it away, and then stomped down with a large foot. The metal man was pushed to the ground, its chest concaving around the lizard-creature’s foot, crunching as gears sputtered and spun away.

Revin just stared. Another metal man swung its blade high, and the lizard swung its tail low, knocking the metal man to the ground.

Revin turned to where the monk was fighting another, swords flashing. She blocked the metal man’s strike and diverted it to the ground.

Revin leaned down and grabbed a rock, hurling it at the metal man’s head. It hit with the clang of a bell.

“Hey! Stupid!” Revin shouted. It ignored him, focused on the other monk.

“Look out!” the monk shouted.

Revin turned. The metal man that the lizard had knocked over lumbered back to its feet, emotionless gaze locked on Revin. His eyes widened. It charged.

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He ran.

Its thunderous feet drummed louder as the voiceless creature narrowed the gap between them.

Blackfire ran with him and glanced back. The metal man was right behind Revin, spear ready. It drew it back, ready to thrust forward. Revin jumped to the side. The creature thrust a moment too late.

Revin hit the ground rolling, wincing as his still-recovering rib and arm hit the ground again and again. He stopped and lay face-down on the ground, entire body aching. He groaned.

Blackfire tugged his shirt and Revin rolled to his back. The metal man was just above him, about to stab its spear into the dirt where he lay.

He rolled out of the way. The spear hit the dirt. Blackfire helped him to his feet and he ran again.

The metal man stomped just behind him. He looked forward. A crevasse with a particularly crumbly edge lay just ahead.

He smiled.

He told Blackfire to get behind the metal man and slow down. Blackfire reluctantly obeyed, not wanting to leave Revin’s immediate side.

Revin skidded to a stop. The metal man had slowed down, lowering its spear. Somehow realizing it was near the cliff’s edge.

Revin stared it down. His hands trembled and his heart drummed. His pumping blood caused his ears to roar. The ground shifted beneath his feet.

Now! He jumped away. Blackfire pushed off the metal man’s back and landed near Revin.

The metal man tumbled over the edge. Revin rushed forward to look. It bounced down the crevasse, limbs snapping and gears ricocheting as it smashed violently against the stone walls. It hit the bottom with a mighty crash. Revin thought he saw a pale blue light shine for a moment and fade.

He sat away from the edge to catch his breath. Blackfire licked his face, concerned. Revin gave him a scratch behind the ears.

The lizard roared. Revin jumped with a wince and ran back to the monk and the lizard. She was breathing hard, her sword broken now to a third of its length. Another metal man lay on the ground, chest broken.

The last metal man blocked a strike from the monk and turned to the large lizard. With a quick thrust it lodged its spear in the lizard’s chest. Revin gasped. The lizard let out a roar which sounded like no beast he’d ever heard before.

Revin grabbed a discarded spear.

The monk screamed in rage and despair. Revin felt a sudden rush in his mind, an inflowing of emotion. Love. Companionship. Friendship. Adventures spent travelling. Fights with monsters and machines. Nights spent out under the stars, just watching the night sky. Totally alone, just her and her cerato, her leaning back on its scaled chest, arms folded in contentment.

Revin shuddered. The monk, in her agony, had sent out a wave of emotions and memories to anyone nearby. Her emotions stunned him until he froze. He felt something tear, the connection to someone so loved, so vital to his sense of self and purpose. Torn away in a flash of violence. Revin felt the pain of a spear piercing his chest, severing organs and breaking bones. He dropped his own spear and collapsed to his knees.

In terror, he looked to Blackfire. Blackfire whimpered off to the side, obviously feeling the pain, but Blackfire was pierced by no spear. Even the automatons paused, but whether at the psychic wave or her scream, he didn’t know.

Revin blinked his eyes, finally able to see or think past the memories and pain.

Even though Blackfire was still near, he felt as though his wolf had just died. A part of his own soul lost. Taken without mercy.

His parents had mindspoken to him very rarely, and those were moments of calm control. Now, he felt the anguish of losing a beloved friend. Tears dripped from his eyes, he trembled and took a deep breath. He reached down and touched the head of his companion. Blackfire was here, next to him. Safe and alive. He tried to shake the feelings off, rubbing his face. These were the monk’s feelings, not his own.

It was abrupt, forceful, probably unintentional. She had burst into his mind and pushed her memories in. It felt like an invasion. Inadvertent, but an invasion, nonetheless.

But as the lizard collapsed to the ground, breathing a final breath as barrels of blood spread over the grass, his own emotional anguish continued. This beast was that monk’s best friend, soul-partner. And now its blood soaked the earth. He dizzied at so much red, his head spinning.

He looked at the monk, she trembled and glared at the monster with tear-filled eyes. She let out a scream of agony and charged.

She fought with only a third of a sword, her movements precise and well-practiced. More like a warrior than a monk. The monster swung its spear, trying to end her. She blocked every attack but looked to be tiring. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead.

Revin shook himself out of his stupor and, with difficulty, raised the spear. The combatants stepped around each other, and Revin waited until he faced the metal man’s back. He pointed the spear and charged.

The monster smacked the monk’s sword out of her hand and thrust again, landing a glancing blow on the monk’s ribs. She yelled in pain.

Revin drove the spear into its back, but the resistance was less than he’d expected. He collided into the monster and bounced off, landing painfully on his rear.

The metal man slumped to its knees, gears twitching. The monk held her bleeding side. She picked up the metal man’s spear with a grunt and stood. Her eyes narrowed in rage, her clenched jaw trembling. She lifted the spear in bloody hands and rammed it into the monster’s chest. With a scrape and a crunch, the monster fell, no longer twitching. The monk fell in an exhausted heap.

Revin approached. Dark blood slowly oozed from her side, her arm laying in the blood of her giant lizard. Revin fell victim to his nausea and turned to the side, emptying his stomach. His whole body cringed with overwhelming sensation.

Once he got control of his stomach, he turned to the monk. She was grunting, pulling a pack off her shoulder, blood spreading across her shirt. Revin stepped forward.

“Let me help,” Revin said, approaching.

“There are medicated bandages in a sack there,” she said, pointing to the bag.

Revin pulled it open, lifting the buckle. Inside were metal balls, and some beast’s horn, its top and bottom capped off with metal lids.

“Not there!” she snapped, “the other side!”

Revin pulled out the bag, inspecting the white cloth. He pulled out the roll and approached.

With a shrug and a groan, her cloak fell to the ground, leaving her in her shirt. She looked to be Revin’s mother’s age. She winced as she tried to sit up straight. She put her hand out.

“I can-”

“Give it to me!” she said, hand trembling. She took the roll of medicated cloth. Her eyes were red, and they bore deep shadows beneath them. How tired was this woman? She began wrapping the bandage around herself. Grunting in pain as she did so. With a groan she looked at Revin. “Help me wrap it.”

He took the roll, and moved to behind her, she grabbed it from him and took it around herself again. He tried to ignore the blood soaking his shoes and knees.

“What’s your name?” the woman said as she handed him the roll again.

“Revin Henrir.”

She paused for a moment. “Any relation to Alrin?”

Revin looked at her in surprise. “He’s my father.”

The monk nodded. She gasped and winced as she pulled it around again. “I’m Ismander Hirnga. Thank you.”

“Stop talking, you’re pretty hurt.”

“Could be worse,” Ismander said, “I could be dead.”

Revin wrapped another strip on her wounded side. She twitched at the pain.

“Come on, we need to go,” she said.

“I think you need rest; I’ll get help and-”

“No!” she said, “We have to leave now. My message cannot wait.”

Her iron stare was convincing enough, so he helped her stand. Pain shot up his arm and he took deep breaths to resist it. She leaned on him as they began to walk.

“Are there any more coming?” Revin asked Ismander.

“None, for now.”

Revin nodded.

“What… what are they?”

Revin followed her gaze. She was looking at the giant, bleeding lizard. Her hand a whitened fist, her eyes glistening at the corners. What she bore was a look between rage and grief. Anger and despair. Her brow tight, and her frown deep, her teeth clenched until her whole body trembled with the tension.

“We’ll come back for it.”

She shifted, putting more weight on Revin. “Him. And his name is… was… Tungol.”

Ismander frowned. “I… I think we should focus on walking now.”

Revin complied. Slowly, but surely, they made their way toward the village.