The world collapsed.
Not slowly, not gradually, but with a single blow, as if someone had knocked the ground out from under his feet. Verd stood in darkness where there was nothing. No light, no sound, no movement. Only cold that seeped to his bones, and emptiness that pressed on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He tried to take a step, but didn't feel his legs. Tried to raise his hand, but couldn't tell if he had. There was no body. Only consciousness, thrown into the void like a stone into a well.
'Where am I?' - he thought. - 'What's happening?'
The darkness was not merely the absence of light. It was dense, heavy, alive. It flowed around him, pressed down, tasted him. Verd felt it penetrating inside, into the deepest, darkest place where fears he didn't even name to himself were hidden.
He tried to remember how he got here.
'I only remember touching the shaft... And then this darkness...'
Time flowed differently. A second stretched into eternity, eternity compressed into an instant. Verd didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe a moment. Maybe a whole lifetime.
Then, suddenly, a smell appeared.
Old dried blood had soaked everything around. It was in the air, in the darkness, in him. Verd tried to step back, but there was nowhere to retreat. The emptiness was everywhere.
The smell grew stronger, thicker, heavier. It filled his lungs, settled on his tongue, seeped through his skin.
And then he felt hands.
Warm and heavy. They rested on his shoulders. Fingers gripped his muscles, not painfully, but firmly. Verd jerked, trying to turn around, but couldn't. His neck wouldn't obey. His body wouldn't obey. He stood, staring into the darkness, and felt someone else's hands on his shoulders.
-Who's there? - he asked.
His voice sounded muffled, as if from underwater.
No one answered.
The hands gripped tighter. Verd felt their weight, their warmth, their... familiarity. As if these hands had already rested on his shoulders before. As if they had always been there. He didn't know who they belonged to. Couldn't turn his head to see. But he felt them.
Warmth spread from his shoulders through his entire body. It penetrated his chest, his stomach, his arms, his legs. It was someone else's, but it was his.
Fear receded. It didn't disappear, no, it just stopped being the main thing. Verd stood, feeling these hands, and suddenly understood: they weren't holding him. They were supporting him.
-You... - he began and fell silent.
The hands trembled. Fingers relaxed slightly, then tightened again. And in that movement there was something... familiar. Something he knew but couldn't remember.
Then eyes appeared in the distance.
Two red coals in the darkness. They didn't blink, didn't move, just stared. And in that gaze there was something ancient, evil, alive. The hands on his shoulders gripped tighter. Verd felt them warning:
"Stand still. Don't move."
Verd froze.
The eyes approached. A muzzle emerged from the darkness. Long, narrow, covered in scars. The hide was taut, glossy in places, hanging in tatters in others, exposing bone. The mouth opened slightly, and Verd saw teeth. Crooked, broken, but still sharp. Between them, old blood darkened.
It was a beast. Or what once had been one.
It emerged from the darkness slowly, as if it had all the time in the world. Each step echoed in his head with a heavy, dull thud. Verd saw muscles moving under the torn hide, bones rolling, ribs gleaming that had almost pierced the skin.
The hands on his shoulders didn't let go. Fingers dug into his muscles, and there was something calming about it. At least Verd felt he wasn't alone.
The beast was enormous. It filled all the space, blocked out the darkness, became the darkness itself.
It stopped a step away from Verd. Its mouth opened, and from it came the smell of cold and inevitable death. Verd felt this smell with every cell. He knew it. He had smelled it in the mines when he killed people. Smelled it on the island when the bird tore his arm. Smelled it in the wasteland when the larvae rolled at him from all sides.
Death had always been near. But now it was looking him in the eyes. And the hands on his shoulders held him, not letting him fall, not letting him close his eyes.
The beast waited.
Verd didn't know for what exactly. Maybe a scream. Maybe a plea. Maybe just for him to close his eyes and give up.
But he didn't close them.
Fear was there. He felt it constricting his throat, his heart pounding, his knees shaking. But the hands on his shoulders gave him a strange confidence.
The beast stepped closer. Now only centimeters separated their faces. Verd saw every scar on its muzzle, every crack in its teeth, every drop of blood dried on its hide.
And suddenly the beast stopped. Its eyes narrowed, and in the red fire something new flickered - not understanding, not recognition. Something else. More ancient. Deeper. The beast inhaled. Its nostrils twitched, the hide on its muzzle gathered into folds. It was sniffing. Slowly, carefully, as if tasting.
Verd felt the monster's hot breath burning his face. But he didn't step back. The hands on his shoulders relaxed slightly.
'If they relaxed, does that mean everything's okay?'
In the next second, the beast froze. Its eyes widened, and in them appeared what Verd hadn't expected. Not rage. Not hunger.
Fear. The beast was afraid.
Not of Verd. No. He was too weak, too small for this creature to fear him. The beast feared what was inside. Or even, who stood behind him.
The red eyes darted to the side. The beast stepped back. Then another step. The hide on its back stood on end, its tail tucked, ears pressed to its skull. It didn't growl. Didn't bare its teeth. It just stared at the silhouette behind Verd.
Verd stood motionless. He didn't understand what was happening. Didn't know why the enormous beast, which could crush him with one movement, was retreating, pressing itself to the ground and whining.
'What's happening?'
The hands on his shoulders tightened one last time and let go.
The warmth faded. Verd felt the cold returning, the darkness beginning to press again.
-Don't go, - he whispered.
But no one answered.
The beast lowered itself to the ground. Its muzzle rested on its paws, ears pressed flat, eyes closed.
Verd took a step. His body finally obeyed. He didn't know how it happened. In the void where there was no ground, no legs, no body, but he took a step. Then another.
The beast didn't move.
Verd reached out his hand, and his fingers touched the hide. It was rough, dry, covered in scabs and scars. Beneath his fingers, flesh trembled, a heart beat. Fast and frightened.
-You're afraid, - he said.
His voice sounded strangely muffled, as if from far away.
The beast didn't answer.
-I'm afraid too, - said Verd. - My whole life. From the day I opened my eyes in that damned mine. Afraid I'd starve to death. Afraid I'd be killed in my sleep. Afraid I'd never know who I am. - He ran his fingers over the scars. - But I never ran. Never. Even when I wanted to.
The beast finally opened its eyes.
-And don't you run either, - said Verd. - I won't hurt you. Now you're part of me. Or I'm part of you. I don't know. But now we'll work together.
The beast stared for a long time. Then slowly, very slowly, it lifted its muzzle. Its nose touched Verd's palm.
Verd felt the darkness begin to recede.
The beast looked at him. There was no more fear in its red eyes. There was something else. Something like... acceptance.
Verd smiled.
And the world returned.
***
He knelt, breathing heavily. His whole body shook, his forehead was wet with sweat, although only an instant had passed. Arktia sat nearby, not touching, not helping. Just waiting.
The spear lay in his hand. Black, warm, alive. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and Verd felt it was no longer alien.
-How long passed? - he asked hoarsely.
-Just over a minute, - Arktia answered.
He looked at the spear. At the claw-like blade, at the engravings that now glowed with a dim, red light. At the shaft that lay in his palm as if it had always been there.
-It accepted you, - said Arktia. There was no surprise in her voice, only a statement. - Honestly, I didn't even expect it.
Verd nodded and cleared his throat before answering.
-I felt someone's hands, - he said. - When I first entered that consciousness, someone was holding my shoulders.
Arktia froze. She looked at him carefully, as if seeing him for the first time.
-Hands? Whose?
-I don't know. I couldn't turn my head. But they were... - He paused, searching for words. - They were mine, but at the same time not mine. They just held me.
Arktia was silent for a long time. Then she shifted her gaze to the spear.
-Strange, - she said quietly.
Verd raised his head. Arktia was looking at the spear, at his hand, at his face, and in her eyes there was something he hadn't seen before. Not surprise. Not admiration. Something else. Closer to... bewilderment.
-Something wrong? - he asked. His voice was still hoarse.
She fell silent. She ran her fingers along the black shaft, and Verd felt the spear tremble reluctantly, as if it didn't want to be touched.
-It's stopped accepting me? - Arktia was surprised. - Fine, I never used spears anyway. - In such trials, there is no one between the weapon and the person. No gods. No spirits. Only you and it. Your consciousnesses meet. And if the weapon is stronger, it consumes you. If you're stronger, it submits.
-So I'm stronger? - asked Verd. He didn't feel strong. He felt his knees shaking, his heart pounding, his head spinning.
-No, - said Arktia. - You're not stronger. This spear has killed hunters with red cores. Masters with green. It would have torn you to shreds if it wanted to.
-Then why?
-I don't know. - She looked at him intently, as if seeing him for the first time. - In your consciousness, there should have been no one but the two of you. The weapon. The person. Two consciousnesses and two souls. They meet, and one wins. Or one dies. It's always like that.
-And now?
Arktia was silent for a long time and couldn't find any words.
-We'll leave it for later, - she said, turning and slowly walking away. - We need to test your new weapon.