Why? I thought to myself.

My question wasn’t about anything in particular. In fact, I struggled to find one, single thing that it was referring to. Dozens of disjointed thoughts swirled around in my head, causing the world around me to slightly tilt from side to side, not unlike the feeling of having a few drinks. Fortunately for me, I had been sitting against a rather robust tree, keeping aware of my surroundings and keeping an eye on Hunter. If I was standing or had nothing to focus on, I would’ve certainly blacked out.

There were a couple more hours until night would fall again and we would start our journey anew. In those silent hours, I wondered about many things. I thought about how every time we traveled it was during the night, but if I had it my way, there would be no designated time to travel—we would walk regardless of the time. I thought about how comforting the night was, although each day we walked, it grew more and more eerie. I didn’t know why. Finally, I couldn’t help but think about the fanged man that was lying asleep only a stone’s throw away.

Every time my eyes would land on him, my mind would become obsessed with his image. I would think about the tiniest details that I noticed about him. Like how he purposely avoided daylight, choosing to subtly move from shadow to shadow while we traversed the forest. Or another thing I noticed was how youthful and unburdened he seemed. No, that’s not quite right. I think the way I thought about him at that time was that he seemed like someone who wasn’t oblivious to the horrors in front of him; he would see them, but choose to keep smiling. I didn’t understand it.

Something else that I didn’t understand was why I was feeling so conflicted. It was like a war was being waged within my very being. There was a fiery, red, daylike wind that pushed against a cold, purple, nightlike tide. Neither one seemed completely fulfilling nor satisfying. I didn’t want to find myself completely consumed by either. Rather, I wanted to remain in the brief pockets of time that formed from where they clashed. Those spaces, however fleeting they were, had the warm, wind-like strength of the day, but mixed with the reality of the night. I couldn’t assign a color to it. I couldn’t assign value to it. Hell, I couldn’t even figure out what it was. I just knew that it felt good. It felt genuine. And it felt like something that I had never felt.

Regardless of how I felt on the inside, I continued to look at him. I continued to inspect every little detail of him, like I was holding on to a distant memory that I didn’t want to ever leave my sight again. And so, I kept staring. And staring. And staring.

Why? I continued to ask myself. The night is almost here…but I’m not sure if I want it to be. I wish I could fall asleep, just once…

***

“Wake up,” I firmly said, gently whacking Hunter on the head. “It’s time to get moving.”

I heard him choke on his spit for a bit before groaning and stretching his limbs. It took him a few more seconds than I would’ve liked, but he did eventually get up and around, and he readied himself for another trek.

The campfire was long extinguished, the leftover food—which came entirely from my share—was put in my coldsack, my sword was sheathed, and the valrose was secured in my front coat pocket. I assumed that he packed up everything that was his, although I didn’t really bother to check. We then began to walk in the direction we were heading the night before, however this time, Hunter was leading.

There was still a gentle, ever-present breeze that ran through the forest. And to my amazement, I could still see a good deal of what was ahead of me. Some of the leaves on the trees dimly glowed and there were swarms of flashing bugs that nonchalantly coasted through the air, sometimes taking a brief ride on the wind. Even with those two things, however, I still couldn't understand why the darkness of the night wasn’t taking hold of the forest. Sure it was a little darker than it was during the day, but it was as if the forest itself repelled the notion of the night. It felt like there was an ever-present moon that lit up the immediate surroundings in a smooth, grey light. It was something that was interesting to me for some reason. Honestly, I kind of wished I could do the same. But regardless, we continued to move forward.

For the most part, Hunter led us in the direction that the wind was blowing from, although he did make a few detours. One of those detours was about an hour into the walk. He suddenly paused for a second before sharply turning right. We continued for a couple of minutes before happening upon a small, calmly flowing creek. Looking upstream and downstream, I noticed how the trees were slightly parted where that creek flowed, like the forest was giving the tiny, insignificant path of water its own space to exist.

“What is it?” I asked.

Holding a hand in the air, Hunter replied, “Wait.”

Just then, the wind that was blowing against us, which was coming from the other side of the creek, suddenly changed directions. It was then coming from upstream.

“Most people get lost here,” Hunter commented. Although I couldn’t see his face, I could hear him smiling as he said that.

We traveled upstream, following the creek for another hour. It was oddly peaceful. The water had a constant, gentle rhythm to the way it flowed, and the water itself was as clear as can be. Even the imperfections within the stream, where the rocks would cause little ripples in the water, seemed perfect, including what it reflected. Using the limited light of the woods, I found myself staring into the creek, and unsurprisingly, I saw it looking back at me. However, for the first time in a long time, for some reason, I wasn’t repelled by the sight of my own face. I didn’t like it, but it felt more human. The one thing I couldn’t see in reflection, however, was the valrose—probably because it blended in with the night.

“How are ya feelin’?” Hunter asked me, still sauntering forward.

“Relaxed,” I immediately answered him. I then shook my head and said, “Wait, why does that matter?”

“I was just wonderin’,” he replied, resting his arms behind his head. “This is my favorite part of the forest, although it’s been a while since I’ve been here. I used to always come out here to escape that stupid den.”

“It’s a nice creek, I’ll give you that.”

He turned his head around, just as a glowing insect passed his face, briefly illuminating it. That light gave his cracked smile even more life. “Thank you!” he said in a somewhat vindicated manner. “My mother always tells me how much she doesn’t like it.”

“Your mother?”

He stopped. I felt the breeze grow a bit colder. The temporary peace that the calming creek granted us began to unravel. I could feel the weight of the tension in the air start to crowd the space.

“Yeah…” he said, “...my mother. You’ve seen her.”

“Oh…right,” I replied.

A few seconds of nothingness went by.

“She’s a beautiful creature, you know,” I finally said. “Nothing like you.”

He chuckled a bit, relaxing some of the tension. “You can say that again,” he agreed. He then looked me square in the eyes with an honest expression. “By the way, why didn’t you kill me? You stopped the moment you looked at her.”

“Well…she reminded me of my mother,” I genuinely replied.

“Oh.”

A few more glowing bugs passed by us.

“What was she like?” he asked.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I felt the breeze warm up slightly.

“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “Only recently have I begun to remember what she looked like. It’s been years since I’ve seen her face.”

“What do you remember of her face?”

I took a deep breath and looked away from Hunter. “I used to only see blood spatters and the claw marks of the fanged man who killed her. But now I can also see her white smile beneath it.”

I didn’t feel any anger when I spoke those words. In fact, the only thing I did feel was lighter. It was like a weight was being lifted off of my chest. As my ears began to focus on the sound of the creek’s current, I felt my heart soothe my mind. I looked back at him, and I could feel the slightest bit of moisture start to build up behind my eyes. “What's yours like?”

He smiled at me. “Like a Herald—my own personal guardian from the heavens that watches over me,” he answered. “She’s the reason I’m still here. Honestly, if it wasn’t for her, I’d probably be just like Father.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I used to have the same amount of hate in my heart as Father. We both wanted people like you dead and we wanted revenge for what humans put us through. But over time, I learned what it meant to love by my mother’s example. She’s the one who supported me, even when I told her that I wanted to leave. She left with me in order to escape my father’s madness. On a whim, we ran like hell away from there.”

“You ran?”

“I did. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he laughed, “I’m quite good at that.”

“True.”

There was a natural silence that set in, accompanied only by the occasional stray call of an unknown insect and the constant tune of the creek. The wind made no sound, but I felt it all the same. There were even more glowing bugs out than before.

As peaceful as it was, a part of my body snapped up and reached for my front jacket pocket. However, unlike every other time, another part of my body stopped it. My hand froze in the air, tense, but unmoving. With both sides at a stalemate, the choice was then left up to me.

I shook my head, walked forward towards Hunter, and let my hand rest to my side.

“Let’s go,” I said to him, “we still have more ground to cover.”

***

Daytime was starting to make itself known again. We had traveled another five hours or so upstream, quietly, before the density of the forest began to thin. We had set up camp, deciding to stop early in order to let the light of day pass us by. Another fire was burning bright, I was resting up against a rock with one knee propped up, and Hunter positioned himself below a thick canopy of leaves. On top of the fire was multiple large slabs of meat, mixed in with a couple of berries that tasted better when burnt…at least that’s what Hunter claimed.

“You know,” Hunte began to say, his face somewhat stuffed with food, “you didn’t have to kill that bramblebear. I already found us some food.”

“But it was a threat,” I replied before taking a bite of the meat.

“You don’t have to attack everything you think is a threat. I know it’s hard to see at night, but still.”

“I can see perfectly fine in the dark,” I argued.

Swallowing what was in his mouth, he responded, “Well then you have no excuse.” He then wagged his finger in the air. “Not everything can be solved by cutting it down.”

“And not every problem goes away when you avoid it,” I countered.

Hunter gave me a disappointed look. I returned that look with both my eyebrows raised and my shoulders shrugged. We then continued to eat our meals without talking. I took a couple of swigs of my waterskin after I finished my food and relaxed my back even more against the rock. When I looked over at Hunter, I saw that he had finished his meal a while ago, and was just laying in the shade, on his side.

“I have a question for you,” I finally asked.

“Yes?” he responded.

“I’ve noticed that you avoid sunlight at all cost,” I said, pointing at the shade he was currently laying in. “Even when you’re walking through the forest, you hop from shadow to shadow. Why is that?”

He squinted at me, not answering right away. “Well, you see, I’m kind of…sensitive to it.”

“Sensitive?” I reiterated. “Is it like a weakness of yours?”

“What?” he asked, recoiling his head a bit.

“Most creatures I’ve fought have one or more weaknesses—whether that’s a flaw in their outer shell, vulnerability to heat or the cold, being unable to swim, or so on.” I then licked the inside of my lips as I thought a bit more. “Do you have any other weaknesses? What about getting stabbed with something specific? Like wood or certain metals?”

Hunter sat up. “Yeah, actually, I am weak to getting stabbed.”

I leaned in closer. “Oh really? By what?”

“Swords, spears, and sometimes arrows if you’re a good enough shot,” he replied with a sly smile.

I sat back, deflated.

“But seriously,” Hunter continued, “being sensitive to sunlight is just something that my people are all born with—at least I’m pretty sure.” He then began to twirl a small flower in his hand. “When we’re exposed to a lot of sunlight, it does something to us. It doesn’t hurt us, but it makes us itchy.”

“That’s it?” I asked, a bit surprised.

“Not the way you’re thinking about it, though,” he countered. “It makes us feel itchy on the outside and inside. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s like an annoyance that you can’t scratch, but if you don’t do anything about it, it just gets worse.” He then spun the flower, causing it to fly in the air, and then watched it float back down into his hands. “Before you know it, it's driving you crazy, and instead of feeling like an itch, it hurts. It hurts bad. So bad, in fact, that I would rather someone cut me open and call it a day.”

“So what do you do?”

“Oh I’m not done, yet,” he replied, kind of cutting me off. “It’s not just physical pain that you feel, but pain in the brain too.” He gripped his flower a bit too hard, causing some of the petals to fall off. “Your mind stars runnin’ extra fast and all your thoughts start to fixate on one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Blood,” he answered. As he did, he crushed the flower in his hand. The juices and water of that flower began to drip out of his hand.

“I see.”

“When that happens, these bad boys,” he said, pointing to two of his upper teeth, “extend really far out, letting us bite into things much easier.”

“So you could drink blood,” I stated.

“I guess so, yeah,” he agreed. “That has to be the case, ‘cause the moment we drink any amount of blood, no matter the creature, living or dead, we instantly feel better.”

I replied to his statement with an inquisitive look.

“I don’t get it either,” he continued, acknowledging the look on my face. “But that’s the God’s honest truth, and she can smite me down if I’m lyin’.”

“I don’t know what to make of that,” I responded. My mind began to go down some dark, confusing rabbit holes.

“Me either,” Hunter agreed. “But yeah, that’s why we always go out at night and why are home is deep in the mountains, within some stupid, dank caves.”

“Hmm,” was all I could say.

A few seconds went by and I decided to get my blade out and start cleaning it. I did that for a while, removing any of the blood that was still caked on there, which wasn’t much. Honestly, after removing the blood, I swear I could barely see the red tint that I was used to seeing on my drac sword. Although, to be fair, I figured that my eyes were just weakened from my lack of sleep.

“You know what?” Hunter randomly spoke up. “Since you asked me something, I wanna ask you somethin’.”

“Go right ahead,” I answered, polishing the tip of my sword.

“You said your name is Sebastian, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“What does it mean?”

I stopped cleaning my blade and sheathed it. “I don’t know,” I answered. I then looked up at the sky and began to contemplate something. An old thought started to resurface within my mind, and I let myself linger on it. “The only thing I remember is being told by someone that the name is supposed to mean strength and leadership and change, or something like that.”

“Really? I’ve never heard of the name so I was curious.”

“Apparently it comes from some famous hero from the Old Wars, but I don’t really care to find out. Names are pointless.”

“No they aren't,” Hunter disagreed. “Names mean a lot.”

“They can mean a lot of things, but it’s all superficial,” I replied. “Why do you think they mean something?”

“Because it’s what makes you who you are, ya know?”

“I don’t,” I honestly answered. “What do you mean?”

“Like, uh,” he shook his head back and forth, “that it makes you an individual. I don’t think you can really get to know someone by lookin’ at them, but you can if you talk to them and get to know their name. At least that’s what I think.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Give it a try,” he insisted.

“No, that’s dumb,” I adamantly replied.

“C’mon, give it a try, Sebastian.”

“I-” I started to say before pausing and then looking at him with an uncomfortable look. My ears wanted to reject whatever awful word he just said. “No, I think I’m good. I think I’m done for the day and you should be too.”

“Boooo,” Hunter said, his thumbs pointing down towards the ground..

“We need to get our rest before the climb up the mountains tomorrow. I can tell that we’re getting close.”

“Yeah, we are,” he dejectedly agreed, laying down, turning his back towards me.

I followed his lead and laid down on the ground. Even if I didn’t want to, my body wouldn’t let me stay up. As much as I tried to put on a rigid, tough exterior, there was nothing left for my body to give, which surprised me. Up until that point, I had been able to go an entire week without ever needing sleep. But for some reason, at that moment, I felt comfortable, which made my eyes grow heavy. I knew that the moment I closed them, I would succumb to sleep.

Just before I let that happen, I said out loud, “Get your rest, Hunter, we have a long night ahead of us.” And then I slept for the first time in days.