Chapter 34

Chapter

Thirty-Four

TRESSYA

As fast as they diminished the apostles' conjured shield, shrill cries erupted from deeper within the forest. Cries of alarm swiftly silenced. Then a stark flash of gleaming white arced through the trees like lightning, illuminating the deep forest from within. It revealed the silhouette of the Salmun, spreading like a fan before us, and more of their vile creations. Some we had faced before, while others deformed creatures that likely once inhabited these lands before the Salmun created the Ashenlands.

I hoped I could thank Osmud and Bryra for the resultant cries of alarm, the fading gurgle of horror drenched in pain preceding the abrupt silence.

The pathfinder tilted its head to the side, watching impassively, seemingly indifferent to the Salmun, its master. Though it was their creation, I felt no urge from the beast to join them in this fight. I could sense its feral nature, the wildness of its mind, which made me wonder if the Salmun would have to exert some force to bend it to their will, as they likely did for all the creatures that fought for them. Would Osmud and Bryra's attacks distract them from maintaining their mental control of their pets?

While wearing the pathfinder's skin, I couldn't instruct the apostles to disappear into the trees for shelter while we dealt with the Salmun, but perhaps there was nowhere safe now the horde could not follow.

The clamor of surprise and the howls of aggression stirred the pathfinder's craving for conflict. Sensing a straightforward conquest, it battled against my dwindling restraint, menacing to overtake my mental lucidity.

Assuming the pathfinder's body, I found myself beyond the Mother's assistance, with the battle to maintain sanity depleting my reserves. Gradually, fragments of my reasoning and portions of my memories faded, while the desire for freedom blossomed within me. Although, as a disciple, succumbing to forces greater than myself was unforgivable, the notion held a certain allure.

"Restrict your attack." Orphus rose his voice over the tumult. "We want her alive."

I struggled with the pathfinder, wanting to turn its head toward his voice, somewhere off to my left, but the creature wasn't interested in hunting down the prelate.

Hearing his voice and discerning his intention, I surrendered my last tenuous hold on my mental fortitude, permitting the pathfinder to rise and spread its vast wings. With two powerful beats, it soared above the tree line, trailed by a singular stream of brilliant white light marking its ascent. Concealed by the treetops, it narrowly avoided the initial Salmun attack. The magical energy passed close enough for me to feel its heat as it whooshed along its leathery body, scorching the treetops and casting a bright beam into the night sky, reminiscent of a solitary ray of sunlight.

Unwilling to leave a fight, the pathfinder continued to circle overhead, while moving further out of reach of any dangerous strikes. Cocking its head side-on, it peered through the canopy, using its supreme eyesight to watch for movement down below. Even the fragmentary glimpses through the dense canopy were enough for the creature to determine its prey's position. With no directive from the Salmun, the urge to hunt emerged from the pathfinder's primal instincts. And it seemed to see anything moving as prey.

Suddenly, a mental command pierced my focus, as incomprehensible as our soul word, but equally shattering to logic and free will. Orphus was trying to take command of the pathfinder. Without thought, Aetherius rose like armor, shielding both of us from the mental attack. The pathfinder shook its head and flared its wings, seeming to recover from Orphus' brief mental stab. I had little control over the pathfinder's mind, but at least Aetherius seemed powerful enough to keep Orphus out.

The Salmun had dispersed among the trees, their aggressive energy acting as a trail of blood to a predatory creature, and the pathfinder was primed for its feast.

Once again, Orphus tried to assume control of my winged beast, but Aetherius stayed strong, and his commanding word and mental jab was nothing more than mere shouts and tickles.

Regrettably, the pathfinder was as drawn to the multitude of creatures accompanying the Salmun as it was to the taste of human flesh, even while I exerted my utmost effort to steer its appetite towards the Salmun.

Finally, it spied an opening between the canopy, a slim gap in which to strike. It plunged, folding its wings, shearing the branches away as it pitched downward, jaws agape and plucking one of the smaller creatures from a lower branch, biting the thing in half with one snap of its jaws. Not exactly the attack I'd hoped for, but in the chaos below it seemed none had noticed the pathfinder's approach, nor its vicious attack.

To navigate this situation, I tried to avoid contemplating the intricate connections between myself and the pathfinder, particularly whether, as a shapeshifter, it was truly I who tore the creature in half and consumed it. The only hint of emotion I felt for this action was a slight churning in my stomach; beyond that, there was hardly anything. This made me question how close I was to completely succumbing to the pathfinder's desires. That I could think independently must mean that my will was strong enough to resist being entirely consumed.

Orphus' voice rang out nearby, commanding his kin to set the trees ablaze. He seemed to have surrendered his fight to gain control of the pathfinder, instead deciding to either drive it out or eliminate the protective canopy, which meant the beast had to take to the sky, but the pathfinder dismissed my mental nudge. I became more forceful, calling on Aetherius to aid me, but soul voice had no power over animals, causing the pathfinder to simply shake its head as if ridding itself of an annoying insect buzzing around its ears.

A burst of white energy streaked through the trees on either side, miraculously skimming past the pathfinder's hiding spot. The leaves erupted in a blaze of fire, the heat uncomfortably intense against its leathery skin. I felt its instinct to screech in rage as if it were my own, but I attempted to suppress the sound, aware that it would reveal the beast's location.

Yet again, my quest for control proved futile as the pathfinder let out a high-pitched screech and launched itself from the branch, resolved to ascend through the flames toward freedom.

Suddenly, a cry from below heralded a forceful pull on its feet, as if bound by a magical tether as searing as a branding iron. The pathfinder issued another deafening screech while it frantically beat its wings in a bid for liberation. Despite its efforts, it was powerless to rise, only maintaining its current height.

The fury swelling within me was as much my own as it was the pathfinder's, but I was the one with the intelligence to devise a plan. This meant I had to impose my will on the creature, or we would both be doomed to the mercy of the Salmun.

Orphus would not win.

The Mother was correct in seeing me as a failure, because of my blind adherence to her strict discipline, believing following the Sistern's training and her stringent guidance was my only way to success. If only I'd realized sooner the flaw in this belief. She was also accurate in saying I'd placed myself in Tamas' shadow, following his lead, despite being a bloodborn myself and an heir to the Bone Throne.

Now I am wiser. I must have faith in myself.

It's time you became my pet. I was new to my Razohan gift, but that didn't mean I was incapable of performing remarkable feats, which meant I had to embrace our unity and accept that, for now, I was indeed the pathfinder.

I could feel the burden of its wings as they strained to beat against the constraining magic, gradually drawing us toward the forest floor. I focused intently on the forceful rhythm of its heart and the arduous effort of its wings, determined to dissolve the mental barrier that separated us. Its soul was mine. Its body was mine. I was the pathfinder.

Regrettably, its exhaustion became mine to endure as well. Both my instincts and those of the pathfinder warned me that once on the ground, Orphus would ensnare us, restrain our wings, clamp our jaws with their blade-sharp teeth shut, and rip our talons from their beds, rendering us as helpless as an infant.

The pathfinder wanted to fight this trap. All it could see was the night sky, its home, and freedom. Yet I was smart enough to know struggling against the current of the Salmun's magic, which pulled us down like a rushing river, sapped our strength. We had only one opportunity. I had to act decisively, swiftly if we were to win .

Go with me, please.

It didn't work. I attempted to impose my will, urging it to turn and dive rather than attempt to escape. It resisted, but I clung to its instinct to flee, following it deep into the darkest corners of its mind, where all its primal instincts resided. I didn't coax. I unleashed a storm of rage, charging through its instinctual emotions, imprinting my own, the sheer force of my will, and the depth of my desire to prevail.

A brief flash of light flickered at the edge of my vision. I spared a moment to turn my large head toward the source of the light, catching another fleeting streak of dull, yellowish light arcing toward the Salmun below.

"Deal with them," Orphus hissed from directly beneath us. It was his magic that had ensnared us.

And it was the apostles, with their modest conjuring, who had dared to disrupt Orphus as he brought us down. The timing of their attack was perfect, even if their magic proved a pitiful attempt against the retaliatory attack of the remaining Salmun.

Seeing Orphus distracted, I wrenched the pathfinder's last resistance to my plan asunder, then tucked my wings and pitched us downward. We plummeted, aiming straight for our foe, while the apostles harried with more attacks from the cover of trees, stealing Orphus' attention for the precious seconds we needed. His magical binds remained tight, but the roaring of the fire as it set the forest ablaze obscured any sound of our rapid descent.

Perhaps it was some survival instinct on his behalf, but at the last, Orphus turned toward us. He threw out his arms, and I felt the terrible bind, once caught around our ankles, shift to ensnare our whole body.

He caught us, freezing us like ice mere seconds from taking his head. I thought to try and stretch our neck forward enough to snap at his face, but the bind felt impossible to break.

For a brief, crucial moment, I lost control of my emotions, and a fury like no other eclipsed my sanity, plunging me back into the dark morass of the pathfinder's instinctual desires. We struggled helplessly against our invisible prison, draining the last of our strength, while a desperate voice inside my mind insisted this was not the end.

For a few more seconds, we fought, gasping in heavy breaths, as Orphus slowly lowered us further to the forest floor. Finally, I regained control and settled us within the cradle of Orphus' magic. This was not a surrender but a recuperation before the final onslaught.

"I have misjudged you, Your Majesty," Orphus crooned. "In a great many ways. I feel it's only fair to warn you that your mental manipulations will no longer be effective. We have fortified our minds against such invasions."

The freeze on our body meant we couldn't even release a screech in opposition.

"I accept responsibility for allowing you to progress this far. I've been too lenient. The Salmun have grown arrogant and complacent, having dealt with weak and ineffective heirs and faced no significant challenges to our supremacy for centuries.

"Your bold persistence, strategic machinations, and acuity have truly set you apart as a formidable adversary. Under different circumstances, I might have considered you a friend. However, our cause is too critical for such sentimentality. As the bearer of the Etherweave, you cannot remain untethered from the Salmun.

"The time of the Etherweave is upon us. The ritual must commence immediately. It is imperative we prevent the northern beast from assuming his role. And although it is regrettable that you have embraced your heritage, this issue is not insurmountable. Once you're bound to the Salmun, your shapeshifting abilities may prove to be of significant value to us, once we've stripped you of the Etherweave."

His long-winded speech revealed how little he had learned despite acknowledging the Salmun's complacency. He continued to harbor the belief in their inevitable victory, displaying a blatant disregard for his adversaries. He remained unaware of Tamas' whereabouts, indifferent to the chaos unleashed by Osmud and Bryra, and completely oblivious to the existence of the Aeternals and the Eone—a fact that worked to our advantage.

Gradually, he turned me over, forcing me to look up at the stars as he slowly lowered me to the ground. In this position, I would be lying on my wings, a potentially painful position that could hinder my escape. It was then I noticed the transparent shield cast by the remaining Salmun, enveloping us in a shimmering dome that offered protection from external threats. This explained his apparent indifference towards Osmud and Bryra, as well as the apostles.

"Come," he announced once I was lying on the forest floor. "We have no time to delay."

I noticed movement in my periphery, the Salmun drawing nearer, a scant number compared to what I'm sure had initially embarked on this pursuit through the Ashenlands. I owed thanks to Osmud and Bryra for thinning their numbers, but they'd played their part and were now confined outside the shield. It was time for me to save myself.

An eerie chill filled me with dread as a familiar low vibratory chant rang through my ears and the tingle of magic crept across my leathery skin.

Orphus leaned in close, so his breath tickled my cheek. "I'm going to need you a human for this to work, but I doubt you'll be obliging. I give you this moment to save yourself the pain you'll force us to inflict if you stay in this form."

As a Razohan, I had my improved speed, vicious claws and sharp fangs, but as the pathfinder I had many formidable weapons and a means of escape.

Orphus crouched beside us, subtly revealing the small dagger in his hands before locking eyes with us. The pathfinder perceived this as a direct threat and attempted to resume its struggles, to no avail. The magical binds remained unyielding. Thus, I focused on pacifying the creature's frantic urges and calming its struggles, a task that was far from easy. Eventually, I subdued its instincts, compelling it to lie passively in the grip of the Salmun's magic, staring up into Orphus' eyes.

The fierce burn of hatred ignited my determination to win.

"Perhaps you don't understand me. I discern no spark of intelligence in your gaze. What a pity. I had hoped to afford you some dignity, but it appears as though that won't be possible."

He stood. "Only her blood will do."

Their chants faltered.

"I must strip her of this form before we proceed."

Could he actually accomplish that, or was this simply another display of Salmun arrogance? I lacked sufficient knowledge about the Razohan shapeshifters' abilities to understand how deeply a new soul integrated into my body once consumed. I was certain Orphus was equally uninformed. My limited understanding of the Salmun's magic was also a problem, coupled with the unsettling certainty that Orphus would have little regard for the state of my sanity should he successfully extract the pathfinder's soul from within me.

Once again crouching beside me, he placed a cold hand over my chest. The bind of his magic was like being smothered in thick fur, oppressively hot, yet his hand felt like ice against my leathery skin. Within seconds of starting his low murmuring, it was as though spikes grew from the palm of his hand, piercing into my body.

Sensing the threat, the pathfinder's fierce longing for freedom resurfaced, and tethered to its instinct emerged an essence heavier than any primal urge, more potent than any emotion: the Mother's spirit. Bound, the pathfinder and the Mother were both ensnared by the mystical embrace created by Orphus' chant.

Having forced our connection, the Mother remained a perpetual outsider within my mind, yet the Razohan's ability to merge souls made losing the pathfinder a violation on my soul. The sensation was comparable to Orphus tearing my body apart and savagely attacking my heart.

My screams were sealed within my mind thanks to the Salmun's paralyzing magic as the pathfinder and the Mother were slowly ripped from my body. Along my back, the spike of sticks on the forest floor now digging into my soft human skin told me I was losing the pathfinder's form.

I couldn't let him do this; I couldn't let him prevail.

Aetherius was in my mind like a fast blowing wind. I lashed out with my soul word, searching for unity with the power of the Mother's soul voice. Such was the infinity with both, I found what I was looking for as though her soul voice had been searching for Aetherius for all this time.

Merging the two forces, I surged along the pathway he'd created by his magic and the touch of his hand on my body, following an ethereal tunnel, guiding me to my target. With all his concentration intent on removing the pathfinder's soul from my body, I found his mind vulnerable to the Mother's and my combined attack. So sudden was the force of our will, we sent him tumbling backward.

The link now severed, the Mother's spirit and the pathfinder's soul returned to reside within me. Without hesitation, I assumed the pathfinder's form once more and shifted sideways, freeing a wing.

Orphus was scrambling to sit. With a powerful beat of our liberated wing, we launched across the short distance to him in a blink before he could right himself, pinning him to the ground with our talons, ensuring they pierced his skin.

He shouted another incomprehensible word, some indescribable magic to bring us down, but he'd yet to finish the word when we tore his head from his shoulders.

Shouts erupted simultaneously with the collapse of the protective shield. Gazing at the brilliance of the stars twinkling above, I finally granted the pathfinder its freedom. We spat out the vile remnants of Orphus and soared into the sky.

Ascending higher, we soared above the blazing tree line, continuing our ascent, while the cries of the dying resumed behind us.

Below, the ravenous flames carved a path across the ground, while ahead, the stars illuminated a route into the distance. Rising above the dark canopy in the distance was a towering mountain peak. Our destination.

For a breath, I resisted the pathfinder's desire to disappear into the sky. If we continued, we would leave my friends behind in the Ashenlands with no guide.

One moment . That's all I needed to tell them which direction to head, but the pathfinder increased its wing beats, determined to leave the fire and the Salmun far behind.

Mentally I was too exhausted to fight the pathfinder's strong instinctual desire and in the end succumbed, trusting Osmud and Bryra would eliminate the remaining Salmun and ensure the apostles' safety. And if Osmud could see through his fury toward me for abandoning them, he might remember I mentioned a mountain and that he could possess a winged creature's soul if he so desired and guide the rest of them to us. We were already too high, the blazing forest growing distant, so I turned my thoughts to Tamas and the ominous prophecy in the Opus of Verdantus.

The pathfinder seemed as eager to reach the distant mountain as I was, for we kept a straight path. Much smaller and lighter than the nightmare, our body was built for speed. One lazy sweep of our wings was all we needed to move swiftly through the night sky, diminishing the distance.

As we flew tiny sparkling lights flittered before our eyes like miniature stars falling from the sky. I'd never seen such a mystical sight, and unfortunately, while I remained the pathfinder, I was unable to ask the Mother what she thought of it all. Perhaps it was something common to the Ashenlands.

We continued to fly through the curtain of miniature stars, nearing our destination, when something heavy fell from above, sending us tumbling through the air and fast losing height.

The pathfinder released a shrill cry, spiraling downward toward the trees on the side of the mountain. No! I screamed to no avail. We had to reach the ruin, not descend into the forest far below. I tried to resist our downward spiral, but a much larger creature hit us from the right. Pain lanced our side as the brutal impact sent us tumbling once more, flailing our wings to no avail.

Just before we crashed through the canopy, the enormous jaws of our attacker clamped around one wing, sharp teeth tearing the leathery membrane. The wing tore and shredded in the fierce beast's grip, miraculously releasing us from its hold, but with one wing severely wounded, we couldn't continue flying.

Spiked branches peeled pack our skin as we broke through the canopy, snapping branches too small to arrest our fall. And by the time I hit the ground, the impact somewhat softened by the thick bed of creeper, I was crying in agony, having lost the pathfinder's form.

I curled into a ball, gritting my teeth and breathing through the intense pain that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. Although it wasn't me who'd lost a wing, the agony felt just as profound. Each slight movement stretched the torn skin on my back taut, widening my wounds. I could only bite my inner cheek to stifle my cries and endure the relentless torment.

I took a deep, calming breath, embracing the pain, letting it surge through my body with the ferocity of a mallet driving a peg, using it to narrow my focus. Gradually, I shifted myself into a sitting position, matching each soothing breath with the sharp stabs of agony.

The forest's gloom enveloped me like a heavy shroud, close and suffocating. Far above, the stars glimmered through the dense canopy, their faint light like a candle flame in the dark, beckoning me to continue my ascent. I strained to recall how far the pathfinder had tumbled down the mountainside before crashing through the treetops as the attack had been swift, leaving only hazy memories.

Suddenly, the mysterious, miniature stars I had spotted high in the sky cascaded around me like a falling stars. Their soft glow chased away the shadows, providing just enough light for me to discern a path up the mountain. I'd spent one night in the Ashenlands during the trial, and I didn't remember seeing these tiny lights, though I was likely far from where the trials took place.

‘Can you add some insight?' I prodded the Mother.

Silence ensued. It seemed likely the Salmun's attack had left her reeling, or perhaps something even more dire had occurred. I was grateful for what her spirit presence had given me, knowing only too well it was our combined effort that won me my freedom from Orphus. However, in my current condition, I had neither the capacity to dwell on this nor time to waste pondering the Mother's silence.

Leaning on a fallen tree for support, I gradually rose to my feet and caught my breath. After a few moments of rest, I pushed away from the trunk of the tree and began my ascent, bathed in the glowing miniature starlight, which felt warm to the touch.

The relentless pain of my wounds made the climb excruciatingly slow, but as long as I focused on the path ahead and not the distance remaining, I knew I would make it. That was until I heard the noise of something crashing through the forest toward me from up high. I dreaded seeing whatever foul creature was stampeding toward me, but knew from the vibration under my feet and the sounds of snapping branches, it had to be large and heavy.

I quickened my pace, enduring the searing agony, and reached the base of a large tree, thinking to use it as shelter. Suddenly, a black shape rushed past at a speed too swift for me to see what it was and vanished down the mountain, leaving me stunned by how easily it moved through the seemingly impenetrable forest with such speed. But at least whatever it was no longer blocked my path to the mountaintop. However, I was likely to encounter more of its kind or worst beasts before I reached the top of the mountain.

The glittering falling starlight was becoming a nuisance, reminiscent of ashes from a fire, impaired my night vision and heated my skin where they landed. I brushed the shimmering flecks from my face, then glanced up to see I was standing under a dense canopy. Strangely, this offered no protection from the relentless fall of the tiny star-like specks.

I rested my shoulder against the tree, catching my breath once more, as I listened to the branches creak and the occasional eerie sounds drifting down the mountainside from creatures I preferred not to encounter. My beast was the only weapon I had for defense. Provoked by the Mother and misled into perceiving Tamas as a genuine threat, she'd come to me easily. But now, I didn't feel her at all; she was as silent as the Mother, yet Tamas had always relied on his beast to heal himself, and as a Razohan, I supposedly could do the same.

Whatever was falling from the sky was a distraction. I needed my beast's energy and healing to get me to the top of the mountain.

Aetherius awaited me, yet it was not my soul word I sought. The Mother's spirit remained elusive, which suited me fine since her presence was unnecessary. I kept my awareness hovering over the pathfinder's souls, hesitant to delve back in, but there was no sign of my beast.

A screech sounded alarmingly close. Opening my eyes, I saw the shadowy form of something large sweep across the canopy, obscuring the stars as it soared overhead after if sensing my presence. I had lingered in one spot for too long.

Wincing at the pain, I left the shelter of the canopy and hastened upwards, seeking refuge in the dense undergrowth and tightly packed trees while the continual presence of winged shapes passed overhead, driving me into deeper cover.

When something plunged into the branches above, I bit my bottom lip to suppress my cries and pushed onward, allowing no time to soothe the pain. Instead, I used it to sharpen my attention to my escape. Each step sent stabs of pain into my back, but after enduring enough of them, the throbbing became easier to ignore.

Another creature was rapidly making its way through the trees further down the mountainside, swiftly closing in on my position. I glimpsed its dark form as it leaped across a gap in the trees, breaking branches in its path, and yet another winged creature obscured the stars overhead, yet the glittering snowflakes remained every present.

I ran my thumb across the tips of my fingers, feeling nothing but fingernails. Next I searched for fangs along my gums, but they too remained hidden.

"I really need you now," I muttered before dashing upward to the next tree.

I vaulted over fallen debris, then doubled back, taking a moment to snap a decent length of branch free, sizing it up as a makeshift weapon. Although not as effective as a sword, it would suffice in its absence.

"Come on then," I breathed, feeling much better with some form of weapon in my hands.

By now I could smell their stench, decay and death, coming from everywhere I turned my head. Was I being herded?

"If that's the way you want to play." I inspected the branch and decided it wasn't sharp enough for my liking, so I spared myself precious moments fashioning the end into something resembling a spear. Once that was done, I continued ever upward.

My pace was smoother now I'd made friends with the pain, and I focused on moving with as much silence as I could muster, paying attention to the noises surrounding me. The creatures didn't bother to obscure their own movements, making it easier to track them. At least one was coming up behind me, and two were lumbering across the top of the canopy, rustling leaves and breaking branches under their weight.

Two choices lay before me. Either I continued up the mountainside on foot, wasting valuable time and risking attracting the attention of more deadly creatures, or I caught a ride. I took a second to decide, hoping my beast was on my side.

Upon reaching the next tree, I snapped off a branch similar in thickness to the one I already wielded and quickly fashioned it into a makeshift spear suitable for piercing leathery hide. Feeling more assured with weapons in hand, I continued on my way. Next, I made my way toward a pocket of clearing to my left, where starlight, unobstructed by the canopy, bathed the uneven terrain in a silvery glow.

I dashed across to the clearing, indifferent to the noise I made, intent on drawing my pursuers with me. Focus, timing, and precision were crucial, yet the damn tiny flecks of light proved to be an immense distraction. I was certain their numbers had multiplied since I first observed them cascading from above. By now, they were irritating my skin upon contact, leaving sensations akin to minor burns across my cheeks and the backs of my hands.Thanks to my Razohan sight, I navigated the clearing without succumbing to the debris and undergrowth and burst into the open space.

As I tried to look up, flecks of glittering light assaulted my eyes. For a brief instant, a fleeting vision captivated me, leaving me breathless with in its brilliance, though I questioned my perception. But when I blinked, it disappeared. I was left with the unshakable belief that I had seen faces gazing down at me.

Reeling from what I thought I saw, I almost missed the first attack. The creature burst from the canopy, similar in form to the creature who'd shredded our wings, swooping down with its impressively long beak as it sped across the clearing.

I was already off balance as I thrust my stake forward, staggering backward to keep my footing, my eyes irritated by the veil of tiny starlights.

Both of us failed to connect, the creature ascending into the night sky, while I fumbled to regain my balance amid the debris-strewn forest floor.

I spun around at the sound of a deafening screech and the beating of heavy wings, catching sight of a dark shadow diving from above.

You're mine. Another, looking the same as the first, or perhaps it was the first; it was all happening in rapid succession. The burning in my eyes was too distracting. I readied my branch, shielding my eyes with one arm as best I could while tracking its swift descent, timing the release of my makeshift spear.

A large, robust creature burst from the forest, unleashing a raucous yowl as it charged toward me. On thick, muscular legs, it pounded across the ground, head lowered to expose its armored skull I would never succeed piercing with my stake.

The tiny starry lights had turned into a hazy blanket of white across my vision, so, instead, I tracked its raging approach through the vibrations beneath my feet, locating its exact direction. I dodged, thankful for the extra strength of my beast aiding my evasion, as I drove my makeshift stake down with a powerful blow, embedding it deep in the creature's massive side. Then, just as quickly, I ducked low as the sound of heavy wingbeats approached overhead. I felt the rush of air across my scalp as the winged creature struck, missing me by a hair's breadth.

The ground-dwelling creature was enormous, heavy, and cumbersome, making it an easy target for someone who could swiftly evade. However, I had only one makeshift spear remaining, which I'd hoped to use on the winged creature above.

I gave the bullock-like beast no opportunity to maneuver, as it became entangled in the underbrush and tore through the creepers. Seizing the moment, I struck again, targeting what I presumed to be its heart, and swiftly retrieved my other spear while the opportunity presented itself. Simultaneously, I kept a portion of my focus on the winged creature overhead, tracking its imminent return.

These Ashenlands creatures were incredibly resilient. My stabs seemed to do little more than enrage the beast before me, while I could sense the winged creature preparing to strike from behind .

I inhaled deep to steady myself, focusing mainly on the creature swooping down from behind, while waiting for the stomping, yowling beast to disentangle its legs.

The hairs on my neck prickled as the attacker from behind approached, and finally, the bull-like creature freed itself, then clumsily turned to charge at me. My muscles tensed, ready to dodge, but timing was crucial.

The ground dweller's advance was too sluggish for my plan. Perhaps this wouldn't work. I tightened my grip on both stakes, then, at the last, discarded one to improve my power and aim with the other.

I dove sideways at the last, half-turning as I did, and with Razohan strength, thrust upward, driving my stake through its heart as it extended its large, sharp beak to impale the bull-like creature through its eye.

The creature above thrashed its wings in a futile effort to break free, but my aim was accurate, and within moments, it plummeted to the ground. Using my Razohan speed, I avoided being trapped beneath its falling body.

I lunged forward as its massive body hit the ground, placing my hand near the wound I had inflicted. In less than a moment, darkness engulfed in me, leaving me disoriented, tumbling endlessly without a sense of direction. Having captured a soul once before, I was determined to do so again. All the while, I remained acutely aware of the sounds of my enemies drawing closer, even while trapped in a spinning, endless maze that scrambled my thoughts.

I felt as if I were suspended in time, adrift in an unfathomable abyss, gripped by the mounting fear that I might fail and be trapped within the creature's soul forever .

Discipline . I had to succeed. There was no alternative.

At last, I triumphed, seizing its soul in my hands and merging it with my own, allowing my form to dissolve and open myself to transformation. The agony of transformation was no less intense the second time, but it served as a salve, alleviating my fear of failure.

Once the transformation was complete, I unfurled my new wings and soared into the sky, allowing the creature to lead the way, for I knew precisely where it would head.