The night atop the mountain was cold. Each breath came shallow. We rose at dawn and left, knowing if we found nothing soon, we would starve. Solas whimpered now that the suns had risen, his hunger more and more evident in every sound.
Morning light guided us down the slope. Each of us pretended not to feel the hunger gnawing at our will. My steps trembled beneath the weight of Solas, though his warmth kept me moving.
By the time we reached the foot of the mountain, it felt as though we had fallen into a new age. The path had taken twice the time it once did. At this pace, it would be two more days before we reached my home.
We made camp as the light waned. Our bodies rested, though it was not rest at all—only waiting, hoping daylight would bring some living thing to kill. Even Rennan's eyes had begun to craze with hunger. It scared me as I had only seen his cold, steady eyes. It created a tension among my innards.
Rest had begotten hunger.
Solas was mouthing at my arm when I awoke. He needed something soon or he might not last. Perhaps neither would I.
Rennan was gone when the suns rose. I waited , assuming he was looking for food. The hours stretched thin. Then—movement in the brush. Returning, he dragged something behind him, marked by a trail of blood. Solas wriggles, letting out a low purr, as if he already knew.
When he neared the fire I could see what he had found on his hunt. A coyote, but it was gaunt, skin tight over its bones. Hardly any meat on it.
We put what little we could harvest on a stake and cooked it over the fire. The smell spread, it was magnificent and filled our noses. We were all drooling, impatient for the food to come to our lips.
I bit into it. Mouth filled with rough but flavorful coyote, I chewed, enjoying every moment. It was almost all I had for food this entire winter. Almost no animals were left my home. It seemed as though every year passed there were less and less. The scorching was too much to endure for some. Ashes everywhere caused only the strong to survive.
After I had eaten what I could, me and Rennan gave all of our scraps to Solas. He ate everything, bones and all. It was the first food he had ever eaten. I hope now I won't wake up with my arm gnawed on. Now that he had eaten and all of our bellies were warm, we took no time to enjoy the moment of sustenance and immediately left.
Toward my home we went. Again through all the trees, birch and fir alike. We bounded like rabbits, energy from our feast last night. It felt as though a haze had been lifted from my spirit. My legs no longer felt weak, a sapling easily trembling.
A clearing opened itself up.
Upon its edge was my home.
At last we reached it.
Timber sank beneath snow, the roof bowed, beams bent like ribs under the weight of winter. The hearth stood cold, its stones black with soot.
Memory rose like heat from the stones—the harp's faint song, the scent of stew, her voice at dawn, hand in my hair.
I moved the hearthstones with Rennan's help. My fingers tore against frozen earth until they struck cloth. Nails split, blood blackened in the cold. At last we drew it out: something heavy and wrapped in rotted leather, older than memory.
I unwrapped it. Light spilled forth—not sunlight, but its own glow, buried through centuries. Metal gleamed from the dark: bright, curved, gold as the first sun.
Rennan, impatient, tore back the rest of the leather. The sword took shape—a single edge arced like a wave, its spine veined with emerald, green as river moss, bright as buried embers. It hummed faintly, like a harp string drawn from the earth.
I reached for the handle. The leather felt as though it had grown from a living tree. I pulled, but could not lift it. Its weight was meant to be earned, yet felt made for my hand. I let go, hearing my mother's voice: "Power is not gained through strength, but through mercy given"
Rennan reached. The metal shrieked at his touch, branding his palm. He cursed, dropped it, the air sharp with the smell of char.
My reflection burned along the edge—eyes hollow, face drawn, though something bright beneath. I had not felt purpose before, yet this thing had awakened it, quiet and vast. I no longer lived to survive.
I must get stronger.
For in my mother's dying breath she entrusted this to me alone, I dare not dishonor her by abandoning this which she bestowed upon me.
Rennan watched, his scarred hand opening and closing in the firelight. His gaze was full of surprise and anger. With his nostrils flared he said in a spitefully hushed tone, "How can a blade do this to a wielder?"
"This blade is my inheritance, not yours Rennan." I replied holding back as much pride that it was only to be mine as I could.
"Be quiet young one!" He exclaimed, eyes peering at me. Violence was brewing within him I could tell.
"Rennan, I meant nothing by it."
"Whatever." He said disregarding the situation and turned over to rest.
We stayed the night, silent before the flames, drawing what warmth remained. The thought of morning brought hope. Solas beside me, keeping me even warmer than the fire alone could.
Sleep fell upon me fast and deep. I could feel I was entering a dream but couldn't do anything to stop it.
My eyes opened in the dream world. The sky, a dark sapphire filled my vision. I heard waves near me, a splash of salty water sprayed my face. Rising, I was awe struck before me was the ocean, land was not to be seen. It was so warm and peaceful.
The small boat I was in felt as if it was floating just barely above the water, and time did not exist here. I felt as if I had been here for years and yet only for a moment, simultaneously.
Looking down, I saw in front of me was a large ingot of iron. I was chained to it. How had I not noticed until now? I reached for the ingot to examine how I could get it off me, but just as I touched it it shook and the boat hit the water. I felt the water envelope me. I sank faster and faster. Water began to fill my lungs, suffocating. Darkness surrounded me.
I woke up, coughing and reaching for my throat. I had let the dream go too far. I rushed out of the yurt. Yearning for fresh air. The cold filled my lungs with relief.
It was still dark outside, yet I could tell the morning would come soon.
I heard from behind me, "Does it haunt you too?" Rennan spoke softly as if he forgot about what had happened before.
"Nothing haunts me." I said avoiding his eyes. I could tell he didn't believe my words.
Rennan began to walk away, "When I cannot sleep…the hunt clears my mind." he said in a grunt, unwilling to show softness.
"Could we go hunt now? Solas will need more food soon." I said, trying not to sound desperate.
"Yes, we must go north."
As there were mountains all to the south of us, it would make sense to go north, though I have never been. My mother always said there were cursed spirits in the north, so out of fear I never ventured far to the north.
I made sure to lock the door to the yurt before we left so that Solas would stay within it and then we left, heading north.
We searched with no avail. The day had almost passed and a trail, made by my human hands, appeared before us. We decided to follow hoping it would lead to something. Even if it brought our end it would be worthwhile.
By dusk, the trail reached its end in ruin.
Our path bent toward skeletal stone—a castle, almost to be called a temple, gutted by fire. Stones clawed by heat, soot symbols scorched into the walls. Candles guttered, freshly snuffed, smoke curling in the air. It looked long abandoned yet still contained those that might not be considered human.
We had no choice but to stay inside for shelter as the night was here.
Unease gnawed at every shadow. Rennan's hand never left his knife. We ventured deeper into the base of the tower hoping to find a room with sleeping mats.
Then came the sound—footsteps, steady and deliberate, echoing in the dark halls. Not beast. Not man. We both heard and stood silent, waiting for it to come closer. It stopped, and the sound vanished in the darkness.
We were not alone.
The castle was quiet again, yet something remained. At first I thought it was only my own breath, the rasp of Rennan's boots on the dust, the creak of the sword on my back. But there was something else. A dragging sound. Claws across stone. The air grew close, warmer, though the night outside had been brittle with frost.
Rennan's hand brushed my arm. "Quiet." His whisper was more command than plea.
We ducked behind a fallen column. The cold of it soaked through my palms. I tried to still the pounding in my chest. The sound drew nearer—scraping, breathing, a low growl that seemed to rumble from the walls themselves.
A shadow stretched across the floor. Broad shoulders, limbs too long, its shape broken by smoke or mist. Whatever it was, it was searching. My grip closed though I knew an arrow would do nothing to this creature. Even hidden, I felt its eyes. It knew.
Every moment felt long. We waited for the beast to approach. I could see Rennan looking for somewhere to strike.
The thing was biding its time, waiting for us to make a move. Though we dared not.
It moved. The air thickened, as though it had found what it sought. Its head turned, and two dim embers opened where eyes should be. They fixed on us.
"Run," Rennan hissed.
I barely made it three steps before stone exploded beside me. A claw, black as charred timber, tore through the pillar we had hidden behind.
Rennan shoved me aside, and the beast lunged past—its form moving fast.
It turned with a shriek, a sound that was not beast nor man, but hunger given voice.
Rennan swung. The blades struck its shoulder and sparked as though he had struck an anvil. The creature hardly noticed.
I hurled a chunk of broken masonry. It struck the thing's head with a hollow crack. For an instant it staggered, and I saw its teeth—too many, too sharp, the gums wet with a black light that burned like oil-flame.
Its voice slithered into my skull: I will have your breath. Your marrow. Your mother's blood sings in you.
My knees buckled. It wanted our very souls.
It pinned me against the wall. Claws closed like a cage around my body.
Rennan tossed me one of his knives. I caught it with little skill, cutting my hand.
I struck out, with nothing terror fueling my arm. The knife punched forward, the tip glancing against its ribs.
This time, the beast screamed. Not a cry of hunger, but of pain. Its flesh smoked around the wound.
The knife glowed faintly, its edge shining pale as moonlight.
Rennan's eyes widened. "Sekan—it is you! Only you can harm it!"
The beast writhed, its breath hot and foul, but it backed away. For a moment, hope surged in me. I was strong enough for this life of a vagabond.
Its form was slippery in the shadows. The beast lunged again.
I tried to ready myself but staggered with doubt. It slammed me back, claws tearing the floor where I just was. I nearly dropped the knife.
"Stand!" Rennan shouted. His own dagger slashed uselessly at its flank.
Shame seared hotter than fear within him.
Fury roared in me, but my body was too weak to strike again.
The beast growled, its voice shaking the stones. It drove me to my knees. Rennan seized my arm, yanking me away as debris fell from above.
A portion of the ceiling cracked and crashed between us and the creature. Dust clouded the air.
"We need to leave Rennan!"
"Now!" Rennan dragged me through a gap in the rubble. The beast's claws scraped the stone behind us, but it did not follow.
Something bound it to the temple.
We stumbled into the night, lungs burning. Its roar chased us out into the frost.
We did not stop running until the temple was a shadow swallowed by the horizon. My chest heaved, my arms shook.
The land eastward stretched empty. Ruins jutted from the earth like broken teeth. Walls blackened by fire, towers bent like charred spires, whole cities left to silence. All of it was lost within dunes of ash and scorched earth.
Now surrounded by these ruins, Rennan bound a cut on his arm with a strip of cloth. He said nothing. He only watched me as if he discovered something.
I stared at my arm. My mother's blood coursed through my veins but I had never seen this happen to her. I was the only thing that could pierce the beast, and I had been too weak.
My teeth ground together. "I must get stronger, Rennan."
He said nothing, but his eyes searched mine as though measuring the weight of those words.
I clenched the knife, feeling its weight. My mother's voice seemed to echo faintly in the back of my mind, but I turned away from it.
Ahead stretched the bones of kingdoms, burned to ash. And beneath it all, a vow: next time, I would not fail.
My mind raced, the sense I had forgotten something ran rampant within. What did I forget?
"Solas!"