When Eli had imagined the glamorous life of a wildlife biologist, it never included hiding in a rainforest next to the smelliest plant on earth. The revolting thing had been aptly named the Stinking Corpse Lily, and the stench was exactly what you would expect.

Breathing through his mouth didn’t seem to help much. Eli finally settled on awkwardly pulling the sweaty collar of his t-shirt up over his nose, leaving his hands free to make field sketches of the spirit bear. It helped a little, but now he had to smell himself. Which turned out to be not so great either.

In the age of digital photography, field sketches with a charcoal pencil may have seemed archaic. Eli believed that when making a sketch, you had to pay attention to details in a way that was easy to ignore when snapping a picture.

He’d once read that knowing the name of a thing wasn’t the same as knowing the thing itself. Like knowing the title of a song without hearing the music. Much more than the rote memorization of Latin designations taught in school, these sketches connected him to the subjects.

The magnificent sun bear made the entire stinky ordeal worthwhile. The locals called her Maeena, which meant ‘She who takes care of others’. She reclined upon the sturdy boughs of a towering tree like a jewel nestled in the embrace of an arboreal cathedral. The golden patch on her chest stood in stark contrast to the rest of her deep ebony fur. Against the backdrop of the forest's symphony, she seemed a living embodiment of the relationship between earth and sky. A celestial guardian of nature’s realm.

Five spirit beasts had once called this qi-rich swath of Malaysian rainforest home. One of the largest concentrations of such creatures left on the planet. It was the main reason Eli had come here for his studies, besides the rare opportunity to train with Master Haruun.

In the three years since he had arrived, the number of spirit beasts had dwindled to two. Triad poachers claimed the others. The creature’s bodies would fetch vast sums of money on the black market for use in vile, qi enhancing concoctions made by unethical cultivators.

Eli’s shirt slipped off his face, and he cursed as a full breath of corpse stench went straight up his nose. He fumbled his charcoal pencil trying to reposition the shirt, and it disappeared into the ground cover at his feet. His sketches fascinated the kids in the village when they first saw them. So he started teaching the ones who wanted how to draw. Little Seri was especially good, and he smiled to remember her excitedly showing him her drawings.

Thier excitement had seriously depleted his pencil supply, as he gave them out to all the kids. As he carefully pushed aside swaths of foliage to look for the fallen pencil, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

There were predators in this forest, and Eli had learned to trust his instincts when something felt off. He froze, straining his ears for any sign of what his subconscious had picked up on. The jungle had fallen silent, and his stomach twisted in apprehension.

The crack of a rifle sent Eli leaping to his feet.

His eyes sought out Maeena, but she was no longer perched in the tree where she had been moments ago. He cried aloud and unthinkingly ran in the direction he had last seen the spirit bear.

Maybe they missed. Or she jumped to the ground and fled. Eli had dedicated his life to the preservation of these creatures. To witness one’s death was unthinkable.

As he reached the base of the tree, he lost all hope.

The bullet had hit behind her front shoulder, right in the heart. Only a round enhanced by an artificer could pierce the hide of a powerful spirit animal like this. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eli knew he should run. The men who had done this were coming to collect their kill and would not leave a witness to this crime.

The sun bear drew short, ragged breaths. Eli pressed his hands to the wound in a futile attempt to stop the blood pumping onto her fur and pouring to the ground. He looked desperately to Maeena’s face.

Her wildly rolling eyes stilled as they met his.

Avenge me

The words rushed through him as a cascade of pain and anger, tearing his senses from the surroundings. His hands ceased their useless pressure and rested gently on her side. The entire focus of his universe narrowed to the unfathomable depths of this ancient creature’s eyes.

Eli shook his head numbly. No way. How would I possibly avenge anyone?

AVENGE ME!

A torrent of qi surged up Eli’s arms. He tried to pull away, but the rush of energy held him fast. As it poured into his body, the qi sought the core where this energy was meant to gather and be stored. But Eli was no cultivator. He had never formed a core.

The accumulating qi condensed into a pool of lava in his gut. An ungodly burning spread from his center to engulf every nerve ending in his body.

Eli threw back his head and screamed.

Eternity passed as he convulsed on the ground, heedless of the blood-soaked dirt his face lay in. Immaculate pain was all he had known or would ever know again. Sweat streamed from every pore. His muscles wrenched with unendurable cramps, while tears cut rivulets through the gore on his face.

A disturbance faintly pierced the tempest of pain his world had become. His body shoved rudely by an outside force.

Someone had kicked him.

He could hear voices from what seemed like a great distance.

Another kick.

“Just kill him.”

“What the hell is he doing, though?” Another kick. “I mean, look at him.”

“Who gives a shit? Come on, man. I just want to get out of this damn forest and back to the city.”

The pain was receding behind a wave of anger. No, not anger. Rage. Eli opened his bloodshot eyes to see five men standing in a semi-circle around him and the fallen spirit bear.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” One man had a rifle resting casually on his shoulder. The only man in the group with a rifle. This one had shot Maeena. He would die first. The man brought the rifle down, but a hand darted out to stop him.

“No, you idiot. Don’t waste an artificer round on this scum. The Red Pole would have our asses. Leung, shoot this guy.”

A man with a ragged scar across his cheek drew a pistol from the holster at his waist.

Eli allowed rage to consume him. It was a welcome diversion from the pain. Somewhere deep in his mind, he was aware that this rage did not belong to him, but that did not matter. Nor did it matter that they would soon shoot him and he would die. Making these men pay was all that mattered.

His fingers dug into the dirt and his muscles tensed. A growl escaped his throat.

“Is he fucking growling? That is so creepy. Just shoot him already.”

Eli’s head jerked sharply backwards as two shots rang out in rapid succession. He shook off the impacts like a dog and growled louder while the men stared in shock. With a powerful shove, Eli leapt to his feet and lunged at the man with the rifle.

He grabbed the barrel of the weapon and ripped it from the man’s grasp with terrifying strength. Without changing his grip, Eli swung the rifle downwards like a club at the man’s head. It connected with a loud, wet crack. Pressure from the man’s collapsing skull popped out an eye that dangled against his cheek. The life fled from his body as he fell.

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Droplets of blood sprayed with each blow, as Eli pummeled the dead man until the rifle finally snapped in two. He tossed it away and stood over the gruesome body, panting.

The snapping of gunshots entered his awareness. Stings on his skin made him realize they had been shooting him this entire time. How dare these murderers shoot him.

He whirled on the other four men. The closest stood in a practiced shooting stance as he emptied his pistol into Eli.

Powerful legs carried Eli in a mighty leap forward, a figure of primal fury. With a ferocious impact he crashed into the gunman, sending him sprawling to the ground. Grunts of pain replaced the gunfire as ribs yielded and bones cracked beneath the force of his assault.

Eli grabbed the man by the throat. His eyes bulged and mouth drew back into a terrifying grimace as Eli pinned him against the hard dirt and squeezed. The man punched his arms and thrashed to escape. Soon he grew still, and the rage was pleased.

He looked up to deal with the last three murderers, but the men were nowhere to be found.

With no more enemies in sight, the burning rage drained from his body leaving behind a bitter cold exhaustion in its place. Eli looked around at the dead men in confusion, dimly recognizing what had just happened.

He had never killed anyone before. Blood spattered his hands and arms. Where was the horror he should be feeling right now? Its complete absence was even more terrifying.

What is wrong with me? Have I become a monster?

He was too tired to waste energy on these men. Too tired to do anything except sit down for a second. He sank to the earth and thought perhaps lying down would be better. The cool ground felt solid and reassuring against his body. Eli closed his eyes.

***

When he awoke it was still daylight. Or it was daylight again. Eli realized he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The overwhelming scent of the corpse lily stung his nose, and his face scrunched in disgust as he sat up.

Any fleeting thought that it had all been some strange dream vanished at the sight of the dead men. It was not the corpse lily he was smelling. Eli’s stomach flipped, but he managed not to vomit at the stench.

He forced himself to think. Judging by the bloat, these bodies were around three days old.

Holy hell! How have I slept for three days?!

Eli’s next thought was panic that they were going to revoke his visa and he wouldn’t be able to continue his studies. He laughed out loud, startling a bird from a nearby perch. The bird chirped angrily at him as it flew off to find a branch with fewer noisy humans around. He laughed again at the absurdity of his fear.

You’ve got bigger problems than your visa right now, dummy.

Surveying the surroundings, he saw that the body of the spirit bear was gone. An echo of that rage bubbled up, but Eli was able to quickly shove it back down.

Had the poachers come back? If they had, it seemed very unlikely they would have left him alive.

Years of tracking wildlife had taught him to read the sign on the ground, and he called on those skills now to cast around for clues. The only human tracks belonged to him and the poachers. No one else had come near this area.

He carefully circled into the spot where the bear’s body had lain, careful not to trample on possible tracks. Eli’s heart froze. An enormous feline paw-print stood out in the bloody dirt. Takut, the great spirit tiger. Now the only remaining spirit beast in this region.

It made sense why Takut would not leave the body for poachers. But that creature would never have left him alive. The legends surrounding Takut agreed that he was not a friend to humans, and had no qualms about killing those who strayed too close.

It was a mystery Eli did not have the tools to solve at the moment. He was certainly not going to track down the tiger and ask him.

I need to get back to the village. Master Haruun will know what to do.

Long before he arrived, Eli recognized that something was wrong. This time of day there was always foot traffic in the forest near the village. Folks gathering wood, foraging, or just walking the trails.

The lack of sounds as he continued to get closer tightened the dread in his gut. No chatter of voices. No wood being chopped. No children playing.

Finally, he grew near enough for the smell. Again with the horrible stench of rot that continued to haunt him. Eli walked on, despite the dire certainty of what he would find when he arrived.

Master Haruun had been watching his dog, Stitch, while he was in the field. They would be alright. No one could kill Master Haruun. Eli broke into a sprint for the old man’s house.

He could not look away from bullet-ridden bodies strewn throughout the village as he ran. These kind and gentle people who had taken in a stranger. What kind of monsters didn’t even spare the children? This couldn’t be happening.

Eli slowed when he reached the old wooden house. The stairs gave a familiar wobble as he climbed them. The door was slightly ajar, and it creaked as he pushed it the rest of the way open.

At least a dozen dead men littered the room. It took him a moment to sort through the gruesome scene. They had managed to kill Master Haruun, but it cost them dearly. The rare blade-tipped sai that Master Haruun’s martial style was famous for remained tightly gripped in his hands. His killers had been too cowardly to steal them, even in death.

Eli felt like a heavy weight was on his chest and struggled to breathe. His mentor. Slain. It didn’t seem possible.

A desperate thought latched on to his dissolving mind. As though it would somehow make all of this horror bearable.

Please don’t let Stitch be dead. Please don’t let Stitch be dead. Please don’t let Stitch be dead.

The unstoppable echo bounced around his skull, heedless of the panic it caused.

Eli’s home had always included dogs as part of the family while he was growing up. The night he found Stitch, just an ugly little mutt rooting through his garbage, Eli fell instantly in love.

The locals had thought he was weird for taking in a useless stray, but they didn’t understand. Each time he felt overwhelmed with the loneliness of being in a foreign land full of strangers, this loyal, scruffy dog soothed his aching heart. Made him feel like he had a piece of home way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Eli frantically searched the small house, and a cold tide of despair washed away the last remnants of hope.

Stitch lay in a pool of congealed blood, his little teeth clamped firmly onto a pant leg of one of the dead men. His mouth was curled up in a tiny, fearsome snarl. He had been so brave all the way till the end.

Eli sank to his knees and cried.

The rage crept in slowly at first and began crowding out the sadness. This time, he did not shove it away. The Triad had clearly been looking for the body of the spirit animal they believed he had stolen.

All of this is my fault.

He got slowly to his feet as the rage continued to build.

Eli walked over to where Master Haruun lay. The sai should have gone to the Master’s family, but they were all dead. Murdered. Tears streamed unchecked as Eli pried them out his Master’s hands and bowed with respectful apology.

The qi hardened weapons felt good in his hands. The mounting rage was pleased.

Eli stepped out of the house and a hint of movement drew his gaze to the nearby tree line. Amber eyes gazed back at him. His hands tightened on the sai as a shape emerged from the shadows. It was Takut, the spirit tiger. His mind screamed that he needed to run. That this creature could kill him in an instant.

The rage was in control now and would not allow it.

A deep voice, almost a purr, resonated in his mind.

Excellent, little brother. You have found claws. Come hunt with me and we will seek Maneea’s vengeance together.

The rage smiled, and Eli disappeared beneath the crashing wave of its power.

Weeks would become months before Eli’s mind surfaced from the depths of that roiling tempest.

*****

The midday sun speared into his eyes through the forest canopy. He stepped sideways into the shadow of a tree, clearing his vision to focus warily on the unfamiliar speaker.

“Are you Eli?”

The gentle voice snuck in through the barest sliver of a window where the fog of rage had thinned.

Eli. He knew that word. The small woman in front of him spoke again.

“You’re Eli, right?”

She had a British accent and spoke in an exaggeratedly calm tone. Several feet behind her was a powerfully built man with a dour expression. They were both Asian in appearance, but Eli had been in this part of the world long enough that he didn’t think they looked Chinese.

Even so, they could still be with the Triad. Eli drew his sai and the fog began to seep back into the thin window of sanity.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, showing him the palms of her hands. “Your mom sent us.”

“My mom?” His voice came out hoarse. Almost unintelligible. How long had it been since he’d spoken to another person?

“That’s right. Your mom.” The woman kept her hands visible and continued to speak in a slow, even tone. “You’ve been gone for months and she is worried something happened to you. Someone slaughtered the village you were staying in. Do you know anything about that?”

The question seemed accusatory. Eli leapt backwards several feet and brought up his sai, crouching defensively.

“What the fuck,” the dour man barked. “No one said he was a cultivator.”

“He wasn’t,” the woman said. “Just keep an eye out for the damned tiger. We don’t need that thing sneaking up on us while we sort this out.”

“What do you know about my mom?” Eli asked. His voice still came out in a croak, but it was more understandable this time. With each word he spoke the fog receded a bit.

“She is very worried about you. So are we.” She put a hand to her chest. “I am Mira. This is Bataar. We’re cultivators, too. You mother asked our Order to find you and bring you home safe, ok?”

“Home?” Eli felt his chest tighten as he remembered a dog that felt like home. The grief pushed the fog back even further.

“That’s right. Home. Just put up those weapons and come with us. We’ll take you home to your mom.”

Eli looked down at the tattered remnants of his clothing. Filth covered him. Much of it was dirt, but he knew that much of it was not. Images flashed through his head.

Amber eyes. Flashing claws. Men screaming. Blood.

Eli looked back up at the woman, nodded slowly and put away his sai.

“Ok. I would really like to go home now.”