Hungry. Hungry for man-flesh.

  Consume.

  Eat.

  Masaru… Masaru… MASARU.

  ELK IN THE WAY. TOSS HIM ASIDE—WORTHLESS.

  BOY SCREAMING AS MY BRETHREN CONSUME HIM.CHANGE HIM INTO ONE OF US. WITCH RUNS TO HIM WITH VIAL. POURS VIAL IN MOUTH. IGNORE HER. WORTHLESS.

  MASARU.

  MASARU.

  LADY ATTACKS. I IGNORE. MASARU. MUST EAT MASARU.

  GROUND RUMBLES.

  IGNORE.

  MUST EAT.

  MUST… I MUST—

  SOLDIERS SWARM. MORE MAN FLESH, BUT NOT GOOD. CRUSH THEM.

  KILL THEM ALL. EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM.

  THEY DESERVE TO DIE.

  GROUND BREAKS. SPIRIT COMES OUT, TACKLES WITCH. HE COMES FOR ME NOW. IGNORE HIM.

  MUST KILL MASARU—

  There’s a sickening crunch.

  Loss of sensation.

  My world ends.

  …

  I flit in and out of reality. In darkness I suffer nightmares. In light, I suffer pain. No coherent thought is had in those times. All thoughts are singular, selfish, and cruel.

  I don’t know how much time passes. I wake up and feel like an eternity goes by as I watch a cloud drift in between the branches.

  The world rocks softly beneath me. My back aches.

  My body burns.

  I try sitting up, but all I can do is elicit a groan.

  I fall back asleep. Wake up what seems seconds later, except it is night now and I am leaning against a tree. And I recognize where we are: One of the old campfire sites the Mancer Troop used, during our trek through the briars. I examine my body. The wounds have mostly healed, though the leg is still aching. I try to move. My legs don’t work. I can lift my arms, but just barely. I stare at the fire and I remember what has happened.

  Then, simply not knowing what else to do, I begin to weep.

  The crying starts slow. I resist at first. Try to suck back the tears. Remind myself of the task I still haven’t finished.

  And then I remember Kiren.

  And the water floods.

  I make pathetic, hicking sobs as I curl into myself. I bury my head into my chest and will the darkness of the night to consume me.

  I am a boy again. Crying alone at the tower.

  No one’s coming to save me.

  Animalistic wails wretch forth. I bite on my hand till it bleeds, trying to suppress the emotion.

  “Raiten?” a voice asks.

  I look up and wipe the blurriness away for a moment.

  The shark stares back at me, face downcast.

  I sniff. “Go away.”

  “Raiten I—I got it. The cure. Your amulets. I took it from her. See?” He spits out two vials. One filled to the brim with green liquid. The other half is full. My amulet sack rolls to my feet.

  For once, the sight of it makes me feel disgusted.

  I curl up again.

  “I had to use some on you, but it… it worked. Your immortality and the cure beat the plague Raiten. Maybe… maybe we can—” The shark shifts closer. His fin touches my shoulder. I shove it off and show him my pathetic face.

  “I said go away!” I yell.

  “Raiten I—”

  “Coward. You brought him to die. You… why did you do that? I don’t understand?” my voice cracks. “Why did he do that? I don’t understand. I’m not worth it. I never was.”

  Umbrahorn doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Then, he sighs and curls up around the fire.

  “I know you hate me right now Raiten. Trust me. I do too. But… I’m not leaving. Even if you beat me up or try to kill me, I’ll stay.”

  “Why couldn’t you have stayed then?”

  “I—” the shark whimpers and turns his head away. “I don’t know.”

  He stays silent. But, Umbrahorn allows me the dignity of diving into the earth after a few moments.

  And I cry alone into the night.

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  …

  I decide to kill myself. It's a lot easier than I think.

  I just crawl away from the fire for a moment. Take a sharp rock shard from the creek. Slice it longways across my wrists.

  When the regeneration comes, I cut again. And again. And again.

  There’s an element of will to the regeneration. When I was fighting in the glades, I desperately wanted to live, so my curse accommodated that desire.

  Now? It takes a lot less to die.

  My will has been drained. Drained by my enemies, who I can never seem to actually beat. Drained by my lack of progress; my inability to immerse myself in angel dust and actually accomplish my insurmountable tasks.

  Drained by my losses. Time and time again, I have always lost.

  Drained by my friends. All of whom are gone.

  The boar ranges? Please. I can’t even kill Masaru.

  What’s the point?

  Better to sleep.

  When my blood fills the river, the regeneration slows enough for me to die. I drift along the water’s edge. My life seeps away. The moon blinks down with angelic light, enveloping the river in the ethereal twilight. I take a deep breath. Let the water break beneath. And I sink into the river, bubbles of blood swimming up from my arms like red lightning lashing at the water’s surface.

  The blue of the moonlight fades to black.

  Death tugs me to the bottom of the river with greedy tendrils.

  And darkness encompasses all.

  …

  The afterlife is a familiar sight: my own home. I walk into it, as a boy, in the drab loincloths of my youth. I smell moon cakes from within. My mother hums. Her singing is nostalgic and melodious.

  I sit at the table and wait for her, twiddling my thumbs, oddly nervous.

  She comes around, beautiful, as always, and places the mooncakes on the table. I don’t look at her. Maybe it's fear, maybe it's shame? It doesn’t really matter.

  “Its been a long journey,” she says.

  “Yes.”

  “You must be tired.”

  “Desperately,” I chuckle.

  “Is that why you’re giving up?” There’s no tone of accusation behind the question. Her voice is kind. Gentle. Yet, my mind crafts it into an accusation.

  “Mother… I… don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve tried everything. I did my best—fought my hardest and I still lost. Surely, mother,” I look now, tears in my boyish eyes once more. Voice cracking. “Surely I should be allowed to give up now?”

  Hanata Kuragami looks at me with kind, dark eyes. And she nods.

  Then, she stands up, pushes in her chair, and walks around the table towards me. Her hands wrap around my head.

  I weep into her chest. “I miss you. So much.”

  She shushes gently and whispers. “It’s going to be alright. Everything will be just fine, Raiten. My sweet child. My little cub.”

  She runs her hands through my hair. It feels so real.

  Wait… why does it feel so—

  “Are you… is that you Thrae? Hypna?”

  “It’s me Raiten,” she pulls away. Smiles. “It's me.”

  I stand and study her for a moment, wiping away the tears.

  “How?”

  “Your conception of me is so powerful in your mind, that when Hypna entered it, she was able to revitalize one of your memories. Turn it into this—a safe space. Something I can use to talk to you, once at least.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know. Ask her. She’s the witch,” she laughs. It sounds like my mother’s laugh, that’s for sure. “But I do know that it comes at a cost. You’ll lose a memory of me. One that you think is important.”

  “Oh.” I look around now, scanning my old home. “I’m not dead yet, am I?”

  “No.”

  Before I can process that, she puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?”

  I freeze. “Why? I’ve done… nothing. Nothing of worth. You shouldn’t be—”

  “I’m proud, because my son has become strong. Not only here,” she says, pinching my flabby arms and chuckling softly. “But also here.” She points to my heart. “After all they have taken from you, you still found a way to love. To cherish. To find people, family, a home, friends. That is worth something, Raiten.”

  “But I lost it.”

  “I know. And it hurts so much, I know.” She puts a warm hand to my chin and lifts it up to meet her gaze. “That is life. There is no love without sorrow. No pleasure without pain. You might not be able to see it now—it might feel like the whole world is closing in on you. I understand. But Raiten,” she grips my shoulder firmly. “You must not give up. Not like this. Never like this.”

  I stare at her. Then, I look down in shame. “I… don’t know where I would even start. I lost everything. I have no army—Sorina and Kiren are dead and I only have two amulets. What am I going to do mother I don’t know I wish—I wish you were here.”

  She kneels down. “You do know where to start, Raiten. I told you. Remember?”

  It comes back to me slowly. I nod, feeling something shift within.

  “Just put one foot in front of the other.”

  “Exactly.”

  I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Then, I stand up and raise my head.

  And when I do, I’m an adult once more, staring at my mother’s kneeling form. She looks up at me and her mouth makes a cute ‘o’ of shock.

  “Look at you.” She laughs and stands. “Look. At. You.”

  I hug her again. Firmly.

  And she starts crying this time.

  “I’m sorry for worrying you—”

  “Don’t be sorry—just keep moving forward. I am… so proud of you. My boy. My son.”

  I close my eyes.

  When I open them, the cabin is gone. Instead, it is replaced by blood in the water, a starry night sky, and the pain of dying.

  I try propping myself up onto the bank. Slip. Body hits the bottom. I flail. Wounds won’t close.

  I close my eyes. The stream babbles softly, like a siren calling out to embrace me warmly.

  One step at a time.

  I crawl to the bank this time and hoist myself onto it, grabbing the roots and using them as handles to pull. My head breaks through the surface of the water, and I gasp, drinking greedily of the air. The wrists are still slick with blood. I stare at my wounds and will for them to heal. At first, nothing happens. I feel faint and sickly. Vertigo tilts all.

  Then, the skin reknits itself.

  And slowly, agonizingly, I stand on my weak legs, dripping with water and my own blood.

  And I walk forward. One step at a time.