I had ripped apart a piece of cloth from my sleeve and used it to slow down the bleeding on the woman's wound by wrapping it around her torso. Doing so made me think of my mother and how she would have greatly disapproved of my actions; using dirty fabric on an open wound.

I thought on how she would have easily handled the situation as a nurse. I thought about what she might have been doing at the moment back in Sacramento, wondering where the hell her stupid son was. I missed her. She would have helped this woman in a heartbeat.

The cloth could only do so much. The woman looked like she had lost a lot of that bluish liquid, at which I began to wonder what could have caused such a wound. She then stirred.

She was trying to say something. I leaned closer with my ear and listened.

"Water. . ." she whispered.

She must have been thirsty – I thought as I hurriedly got up on my feet, rushed out of the cave and I was then down on my knees at the shore. I cupped my hands and used them to scoop water from the sea and was heading back before abruptly making a stop. I had not even checked the water. It could have been salty.

I tasted it. It was.

I let the water flow out of my hands and splash against the rocks beneath me just as a pang of frustration began to take over me. Where the hell was I supposed to find fresh water?

I looked over to the cave. That woman did not look like she had that long left in her. I was running out of options. The salt water would just have to do.

With that, I scooped up some more water and rushed back into the cave where I nearly spilled all of it after finding the woman lying motionless, her back to the ground.

I was already on my knees, quickly working my way towards her by bringing my water-filled hands over her mouth. I tipped my hands, letting the water trickle down but then the strangest thing happened (as if I hadn't had enough of those already). The water appeared to vaporize the moment it touched her lips. I tried adjusting my hands so that the water would seep through into her mouth but it all vanished into nothing every time it would touch her until my hands were empty.

"Come on, wake up!" I cried, growing more and more anxious with every second.

The woman's breathing had become alarmingly low, her chest barely moving. This had me scratching through my hair with both of my hands as I got up, completely overwhelmed by the whole situation.

I had just lost someone not so long ago. No way was I going to let that happen again, especially not this time. There was just something about this woman – something I could not quite explain yet, not to mention that the symbol on my arm kept on glowing the closer I was to her.

Come on dude, think! What would Mom do?

I withdrew my hands from my head and spun around to look down at the woman again. I went down on my knees, placed my palms over her chest and began to perform CPR. I pushed down against her chest, gently but firmly exerting pressure with my arms and hoping for a miracle.

I had lost count of the number of compressions I had done with no sign of the woman waking up, which only worsened my misery. But I remained undeterred and performed even more compressions up to a certain point where I was then going for her mouth, just like my mom had taught me.

Gently making her jaws part, I leaned in closer so that my own mouth was hardly inches away from hers and I was about to breathe into her when I caught something. I quickly withdrew, more than grateful to do so because my breath really stank!

The woman let out something that sounded like a tiny moan and it was as if she was struggling to say something alongside opening her eyes but all she ended up doing was reaching out to me, specifically tracing my right arm. She was feeling the symbol which only grew brighter from her touch.

"Wat. . .must use waaa. . ." she tried muttering something before her body went limp again.

"No! No!" I propped her over my legs and gasped upon noticing how incredibly pale her face was becoming. "Please wake up, please. . ."

Grief was starting to take over me when I thought I had heard some kind of sound. It was coming from outside the cave. I listened and there it was again – clearer this time – the unmistakable whinnying of a horse.

I could only hope that it was him as I called out, "Jon! Jon, in here!" And never had I ever felt so relieved to see a white stallion trotting over into the entrance of the cave.

Jon the horse regarded me and the woman in my arms with absolute curiosity but seemed to instantly understand what was happening by getting closer and lowering his head towards us.

"She's hurt badly, Jon," I said, rubbing the horse's broad neck. "We have to take her to the village, do you understand?"

Jon whinnied some more before lowering his body so I could prop the woman's body onto his back and I would have been surprised by how incredibly light she felt had I not had other pressing issues to deal with at the moment.

I mounted the horse after ensuring that the woman was secure by having her sit on the horse in front of me so I could support her weight and keep her from falling over.

Jon carefully exited the cave, completely aware of the situation. Once we were out in the open, I looked over the field of rocks that gradually disappeared as vegetation took over and the faint outline of the village in the background.

"Alright boy," I patted Jon, "run like the wind!"

The horse grunted in response and his hooves dug into the dirt, taking off at a high speed gallop and we were soon leaving the rocky shore.

I had not planned what would happen after we had arrived in Abinor, especially after the village folk had started casting suspicious looks at me and the strange passenger that I was riding with.

I had tried my best to try and conceal the woman's face but there was only so much I could do. Her pale skin and my glowing arm were more than enough to attract attention, and not so friendly I might add.

Jon was becoming uneasy. I could feel his muscles stiffen. People were starting to surround us and would soon block our way if I failed to find a place where the woman would be helped.

"Oy, what do ya ave there boy?" asked a man as he approached me from the side. He squinted his watery eyes at the woman I was with.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Nobody," I responded shortly, trying to look for an exit.

More people began to get closer. I nudged Jon to trot further ahead until we had gotten completely surrounded at a hollow opening marked with two very large trees.

"That ain' nobody!" spat another man, bearing some nasty looking teeth, "that don' even look human now do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" I firmly held onto Jon, trying my best to keep him calm and ready to give him the order to run.

"There's word that these things had been spotted down at the shore!" a woman added among the ever growing crowd.

"Yeah!" she was joined by another woman who was holding a pitchfork in her hand. "Them demons that came from the sky last night!"

"Burned my sheep to a crisp, they did!" the first man, the one at my side, went on, getting even closer. "They attack an' then ide so that they can finish us off one by one in the night!"

He started extending a hand towards me, trying to get a better look at the woman. He gasped, quickly withdrawing his hand. "That's one o' them, isn't it? What're ya doing with that thing, boy?"

"Can't you see he's been corrupted?" the woman with the pitchfork hissed, regarding me with distaste. "We should kill it before it takes over all of us!"

The woman was accompanied by a number of grunts and yells and it was soon clear what was about to happen.

"Give it here, boy!" the man closest to me snarled.

"Back off, all of you!" I said with what I thought was my best commanding voice but all I achieved was giving away how terrified I was at that moment.

"He's been corrupted, he has!" the pitchfork woman spat, slowly advancing with her weapon.

Jon started whinnying nervously, kicking against the dirt, daring anyone to come near him. But the villagers did not seem at all threatened by the horse; not as much as their desire to unleash hell on us.

There was nowhere to run after the crowd started to come at us from all sides. Jon spun around, with the unconscious woman and myself still mounted. One of the villagers ended up getting struck across the chest with a powerful kick from one of the horse's hind legs. He flew backwards, taking down a number of people with him and I had to marvel at how smart Jon actually was.

An opening had been created. Jon turned and was quickly pushing through the crowd but they only regrouped twice as fast.

The whole thing became a chaotic mess. People were yanking at Jon's mane, his tail and even at my legs. I constantly ushered warnings, hitting at the hands that would try to grab at the woman's gown but that was as much as I could do.

I had felt myself suddenly pulled backwards with such force that I fell on my back and no longer on the horse.

"No!" I cried, desperately trying to get back up as I saw the crowd go for the woman who lay almost lifelessly on Jon's back.

"Get away from her!" I was whacked in the face by the end of a pitchfork and nearly hit the ground again.

"Urgh, it has even copied our appearance!" the watery-eyed man spat, regarding the woman on the horse, careful not to touch her as if she was carrying some kind of deadly virus.

"Well, what're we waiting for?" I heard someone cry out, "let's kill it while it sleeps!"

"NO!" I was forced down to the ground, which was when I began to notice how intensely bright the symbol on my arm had become.

I began to feel something else too, not just in my arm but all over my body and in my mind. It was such a powerful feeling. A feeling unlike anything I had ever felt before and without knowing it, the fingers on my right hand had curled themselves into a fist. I looked up at the woman holding me down with a pitchfork. Our eyes locked and I could feel her grip on the pitchfork loosen. She no longer had that malicious look on her face anymore, but a more frightened expression.

"You've been corrupted, you have!" she gasped and I found myself snatching at the pitchfork and was already back up on my feet.

That overwhelming feeling continued to intensify so much that I failed to notice what I was doing to the pitchfork.

The woman had become almost as pale as the one I had found at the cave but her eyes seemed to be directed somewhere else but I did not care. I advanced towards her, having no idea what I was doing when suddenly, something like a strong gust of wind blew through the crowd, stirring large clouds of dust with it.

The strange thing was that everyone around me, including the woman who had been holding me down, was blown apart by the wind; everyone except me, Jon and the woman from the cave. The wind circled around us in an almost tornado-like fashion, only this time we were the ones inside its eye.

I watched with awe as the wind continued to twist and twirl until the crowd had been left sprawling on the ground after which the wind dissipated, morphing into a long trail of black smoke, looking like a snake made out of dust.

I followed the trail and watched it disappear into the tip of a crooked staff that was held in place by a hooded figure standing beyond the two trees.

"You can let go of the tool young man," the hooded figure spoke, "unless you're planning on torching someone."

"What?" I had no idea what the figure was talking about until I turned to find the pitchfork that I still had in my grasp. It was. . .burning?

The pitchfork was being engulfed by some kind of plasma-like substance, almost as if it was melting. The substance burned in a bright neon green hue which I traced to have been coming out of my arm.

I gasped, dropping the pitchfork which hissed and twisted on the ground before being entirely consumed by the substance until nothing was left.

I looked at my hand. I watched the glowing substance run up my fingers, flowing like a river, up my wrist and then draining into the arrow symbol after which it stopped glowing.

The woman whom I realized I had been about to impale with the pitchfork that I had magically set ablaze with my hand had gotten back up, regarding both me and the hooded figure at a distance.

"You're all wretched, the lot of ya!" she spat then directly addressed the hooded figure, "You filthy witch! Cavorting with them demons that kill us and corrupt our children! Wait till the Chief hears about this. He'll set loose the Order on you and he'll--"

"He'll what. . .? the hooded figure snapped, taking a step closer to the woman who took many steps back before turning around and fleeing with the rest of the crowd.

"You didn't finish!" the hooded figure yelled at the crowd, "he'll what? Yeah, you better run you worthless village scum!"

The figure then turned to me. "Oh, do pardon me, Desmond. Best be tending to your new friend, don't you think?"

"Wha—" I turned around, angry at myself for almost having forgotten all about the woman.

I rushed over to her. She was still mounted on Jon's back and I was relieved to find the villagers had not done anything to her though she was still unconscious.

"She's hurt bad," I said to the figure, "can you help her, please?"

"Now that is the question, isn't it?" the figure regarded me but I could not tell what it was thinking. I could not even see its face.

"Hand on the staff," it said.

"What?"

"Here, hand on the staff."

I looked at the staff, not sure what to do, especially after what I had just witnessed.

"Oh, come now," the figure insisted, "what? You think I'm going to whip you up in some kind of sandstorm or something?"

I gave her a look like "well, yeah. . ."

"Do you want to save the Zodiac or not?"

"The what?"

"Her!"

I turned to look at the woman then at Jon who seemed to be okay with whoever this person was, otherwise I was sure he would already be using his hindlegs to cause some serious damage.

Looking at the woman again, I made my choice. No one else was going to help me. This was it. I knew I had to find out who this woman was and then maybe, just maybe—

"Hold on. . ." I set aside my thoughts, abruptly recalling something.

I turned to the hooded figure, narrowing my eyes at it. "Earlier, you called me Desmond. How did you know my name?"

"Ah," the figure sighed, "something tells me you'll have some questions of more importance than that."

I regarded the figure, not sure how to respond to that but at least I was still alive and hopefully so would the woman.

"Hand on the staff," the figure repeated and I placed my left hand, not trusting my right after everything that had just happened.

Now, I can't quite tell you what exactly happened after that but the moment I had placed my hand on the staff, I had caught the figure utter something inaudible and then things got really weird. Everything started folding in on itself like I was being sucked into some kind of vortex. The environment stretched out and began to reel past me like a film's playback being fast-forwarded.

There was then a not so loud booming sound, like a tiny explosion, after which I found myself in an entirely different place, where, instead of two tall trees, it was one big oak tree. The tree appeared to be growing out of an old hut, with its large buttress roots winding and twisting all around the hut before disappearing into the ground, a few yards away from the banks of a river.

I turned to find Jon standing next to me, the woman still lying on his back. The figure was already walking towards the hut.

"Are you coming?" it asked.

"Where are we?" I countered.

"Home."

I looked around me and after making sure there were no signs of lunatics coming at me with pitchforks, I followed the hooded figure into the hut.