#nightfall travelers leave only footprints

[faline-cat444]

Moderate for a first Tuesday

[animehouse-moe]

Media I Experienced In 2022 That I'm Thankful For

It's certainly been a big year in a lot of ways, and everybody makes sure that everyone else knows that, mostly through top lists and favorites and stuff like that. But I'm not good with favorites or Top 10s and the like, so I prefer to do things a little different. I want to take a look back at the year and look over the animanga that I was really thankful to have experienced this year. Fair warning, there's a lot of reading to do, sorry!

Jujustu Kaisen 0

I remember this movie clear as day, come hell or high water I was watching it. It was a cool spring afternoon, I had to reschedule some meetings with professors and even skipped a class so I could drive 20 minutes to go to a theater that was showing it, and I even left early. Of course my luck, a huge traffic accident happened on the highway so there was a massive delay. Do I stick it out or fly down the back roads hoping to make it? Without somehow getting a speeding ticket I made it to my seat in the theater right when the movie started. It was incredible, beautiful even. King Gnu's song for the end credits sticking in my mind even as I went to peruse the bookstore next door with everyone else that watched the movie. Certainly something I'll remember for a very long time.

Heike Monogatari

Initially, I don't even remember if I was going to check this one out, I only really ended up watching it because a mutual name dropped it saying I would like it. They were absolutely on the money. Such an emotional and modern approach to a traditional and incredibly classic story, Science Saru really outdid themselves. Whenever I think of this show, I think of the prayer to the fallen that ends the series. It's just so incredibly beautiful, it's hard not to get emotional when watching/listening to it each time, or reminiscing over the series in general.

⚠️Warning: Video Contains Spoilers From End of Series⚠️

Sasaki and Miyano

What a lovely slow burn romance this was. I don't think I really had any sort of expectations for it, but once I got into it, I fell in love. The characters are all so unique and varied, and they work wonders in tackling the endless angles of same-sex romance, both from a personal and exterior perspective. It just sort of opened my eyes to the genre. I never had much experience with BL beforehand, and it doesn't really have the best connotation within the community, but this does wonders to change your mind. It's so fresh, and open, it gives you an entirely new perspective that Rom-Com watchers most likely do not have. Just a lovely approach that compliments the romance and comedy wonderfully.

Shikimori's Not Just a Cutie

I was feeling very burnt by My Dress Up Darling's approach to a rom-com in the Winter season, so I was originally loathing Shikimori for how "popular" it'd become because of Shikimori. Morbid curiosity deemed that I at least check out a little bit of it and I was stunned. Everything that I despised of Dress Up Darling was rectified here. Warm and positive relationships, more than just the main characters, actual romance and development, hurdles, challenges, the triumph of youthful optimism. It's an incredible blueprint for a post-get together rom com. Izumi and Shikmori aren't just lovey-dovey, they don't get focused on alone, the romance has its challenges and steps forward. It was a shock, I really was shocked. And now I have all the volumes out in English on my shelf. It restored faith in the "traditional" rom com, it was such a breath of fresh air in a very much bogged down genre.

Shadows House Season 2

This was more so awe. They changed up the ending for S1 in case it didn't get greenlit for a second season, and they kept expectations for it very low. I was stunned when they announced the second season, and was so incredibly excited to get it in Summer of this year. So more than thankful for what Shadows House itself did (though it's an outstanding mystery series), I'm much more thankful that it got its second season (and I'm hopeful of a third!).

Call of The Night

Yeah, I might be pretty critical on the adaptation for stuff like voice actors, its average creative output, and how much important content it skips, but I'm still thankful for it alongside the manga this year. Some truly incredible character moments in the manga in regards to Ko's development and emotions. It's a beautiful series that takes a look at love and life from an entirely different angle than the norm, and I have to be thankful with the anime encouraging so many people to pick up the manga. And as always, if you want an idea of what the series is like? Listen/look at the lyrics for the song by Creepy Nuts where Call of The Night gets its name from.

Akiba Maid War

The dark horse of the season, if not the year for me. An Uramichi Oniisan experience, where I saw it and thought, "Well, what's the harm in checking it out?", before being blown away by comedy, action, and camp in equal parts. It's a stellar tale of creativity and passion run wild that results in a compelling and helplessly engaging series that feels criminally underappreciated by the community for what it does. Anime Originals have been really rough, but this Fall 2022 season has given me so much faith via stories like this, or DIY!!. Just a moment of restored faith in the creative process outside big names and big productions, a reminder that creativity is still capable of appearing from anywhere and that it doesn't take a hail mary to get surprisingly good series.

Bocchi The Rock

I mean, is this any surprise? Bocchi The Rock quite literally rocked the world of viewer's. It quietly appeared to be scheduled for the season, and after that first episode finished, it was pandemonium. Bocchisweep has trended on platforms like Twitter several times over, and it even toppled the most anticipated anime of the season (and perhaps even year) in overall rating (8.85 for Bocchi and 8.82 for CSM at the time of writing this). It's a beacon of hope to the measure of creativity and freedom in the medium, and for that I'm ridiculously thankful for what it came in and did in 12 episodes flat.

Our Not-So-Lonely Planet Travel Guide

I was getting very tired of the traditional lens of romance and rom coms at the start of this year, so finding this manga alongside Sasaki and Miyano was really a blessing. Adult characters, a mature look at romance, and worldwide travel? It was really great catching up with the 2 volumes currently released (Vol 3 in 2023!), and it brought forward some great thoughts and approaches to LGBTQ+ romance through its main and supporting characters. Plus? It made full use of the locale to sell the story aspect and even inject some beautiful value about the wonders that the world and its people have to offer. Easy recommend to anyone looking for a nice take on romance that doesn't feel inherently gimmicky.

Nightfall Travelers Leave Only Footprints

You might be thinking, "wow, that's a pretty cover", and you'd be right.... but also wrong. The actual art of the manga is even prettier. It's stunning. It's so unique and incredibly creative.

I'm very much an impulse buyer with manga, and this ended up being one of those volumes. I saw the art and a brief synopsis, and as weird as it sounds, it was love at first sight. The concept was wonderful, discovering the beauty in horror and deepening an emotional and curious bond. It really is a one of a kind story, and along other very niche and off-color series like Sheeply Horned Witch Romi, is a reminder of the awe-inspiring work that waits patiently to be discovered still.

Everybody always says, "Oh this is gonna be the best year for manga! X is going to give us the greatest chapters of the series and this new (and often times generic) series Y is finally dropping!". In a way, they're not wrong, but I feel like it's a misconstrued reason for their hype. Comparison. Everything is compared to something, everything has a sibling that everyone wants it to perform better than, an author that has to one-up their previous work in every way. It's suffocating, especially with the incredible desire for people to rank and compare things in the first place. The reason each successive year is "going to be better" isn't because of some objective reason, it's because of everybody's perception of it. It's another year that you get to immerse yourself in the hobby and medium, another year that you get to set out and discover new series, new authors, new approaches and genres. It's another year of falling in love with all sorts of things. And I remain incredibly thankful for that opportunity. For all the weird and wacky series that I get to place on my shelf year after year, all the new and unique authors that become staple of my collection, the new genres and expanses that continually widen my horizons.

[storiedshelves]

so excited to continue this series! the first volume has such a calm atmosphere that pulls you in, thanks in part to the pacing, setting, and story itself✨

I did a short twitter (currently x) review thread a little after volume 1 released back in 2022, if you'd like check it out!

Ninamori is tasked to investigate local rumored haunted locations for the newspaper club. She asks recent transfer student Amemura Fujino to join her on reports. All the while, they travel through their sprawling town 👟 I loved reading their developing friendship and their journey's to different corners of their town.

if you are looking for a calming atmosphere check out this series!

[thetrueoverlordbear]

Tobby’s Recommendation Yell: Nightfall Travelers: Leave Only Footprints – Volume 1

After over a year, this series continues with a review on a newer and ongoing "Cute girls doing cute things" manga. Seriously, it seems like it only has its debut volume so far.

Tobby’s Recommendation Yell: Nightfall Travelers: Leave Only Footprints – Volume 1 beta-read by ThatOtherGabby Now I’m really tuned into some sort of paranormal investigation presentation. (more…)

[rakka-kasahara]

2024-11-16

Dream:

A bit of a long one, I am pretty sure this was all one dream, though I am a bit unsure of the first part.

It starts at the post office and I am checking my PO box. I think there was a phone or something in there playing some anime, and I go sit down to watch it. I know there there are some other details that I am missing. I believe there were some other people there and the post office also had a sort of basement? It was sort of like a subway. While on the phone, I see an ad or something for a new game. I believe the game started with MM or that was the name of the developers. It was being touted as being fully developed by women and women only. I decide to play it and am now in the game world. It is a 3D RPG of some sorts, but the graphics were a little dated. I am there with some other girl, and we are exploring the town. We keep climbing up to the top of the town, going up hills and stairs. When we reach the top, it is this nice field of flowers and a cliff overlooking a valley with mountains. There is a zip line going to the base of one of the mountains, so I ride it. At the base, there are some other people and they have their bag of stuff lying around. However, I notice a kitty lying on her back in the stuff. She gets up and hobbles towards me. She is all hurt and is missing a leg and has a sort of messed up mouth and is bleeding. There are other kitties, and they are all kind of hurt. At this point, I am now at my Grandma M's house. The kitties are running around and I think one claws me. I go to the basement, and Brother A is there. A kitty jumps out of some boxes and attack him. I go back up the stairs, and I see my Grandma on a landing halfway up. She is upset because she dropped Grandpa's CRT. She thinks she broke it. The plastic bezel has fallen off, but nothing appears broken. I ask her if she heard a cracking noise or something. I go back downstairs to check on my own CRT. I go to pick it up, and it is cracked. The plastic is bending when I try to pick it up. I end up grabbing and I notice it is full of water. I tip it over and start dumping out the water. I bring it back up stairs, and I wake up.

Analysis:

I think the post office was sort of merged with a bus station I almost got stranded at. Not sure why the MM game, but maybe it was based off of one of those HoyoVerse games? Wuthering Waves, WW, MM? I don't really play gatcha games, but I think those games are full of lesbians, or that is what their fandoms say. So, maybe that is the only "women only developers" part. The town was probably based off of Nightfall Travelers Leave only Footprints. There is a scene in the manga where they climb up some stairs and reach a field at the top of the town. The town is old and packed with buildings and very hilly. The manga becomes color at this point and is very beautiful. Grandma M's basement was probably a bit merged with Grandma D's basement. Not sure of the kitties, but I kind of didn't like that part. I have an old CRT, and there used to be a CRT in Grandma's basement that we watched Boo Bahs on.

[wherethewordsare]

Melody of a Lonely and Broken Heart

Hey guys, this is super fucking long, so under the cut! It’s spooky season, so I wrote a ghost story. This would not be possible without @artistsfuneral who I have been screaming at about this for fucking ages. I love you boo. 

Also going to go ahead and tag @jaskierswolf cause I promised I would <3 

Story below the cut. Jaskier tells Geralt about these ruins where it’s said these ghosts come out every Fall Equinox and sing to each other. Geralt knows where it is but says that he’s never heard the singing.... Ah, well. About that. Enjoy! And thank you for reading!!! <3

I also wanted to submit this for the Oxenfurt Event for Cursed Ones event? I’m not sure if this qualifies. 

Geralt wasn’t sure why he had opened his damn mouth. It wasn’t like it had even been a direct question, but Jaskier sat across the fire, a noticeably too far distant that Geralt wasn’t trying to notice at all, chatting away about a story his Gran had told him.

“They say at the Fall Equinox, they show up and sing in the ruins. I think it’s kind of lovely, actually, if it weren’t so spooky. I’ve known a few bards to have gone looking for them,” He was leaning back, looking up at the sky. The column of his throat was cast in the muted light of the fire and Geralt felt his chest tighten. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get back in Jaskier’s good graces, too easy. But there was still a tension between them that Geralt didn’t like. It made for more quiet days on the Path and nights that were shared from across a firm line in the sand. Geralt didn’t blame him, but there was only so much he could ignore the stinging in his heart. 

“You know, they don’t actually sing,” he grimaced as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“What?” Jaskier was sitting up then, leaning in to look at Geralt, his eyes wide. 

“The ‘Singing Lovers’. They don’t actually sing. Witchers have been going there for just about as long as they’ve been haunting the place to try to release them but it never takes. I’ve been myself once or twice. I’ve never heard them sing.” He looked up and couldn’t help the way his lips tugged up at the look on Jaskier’s face. 

“The lights?” Jaskier was scooting closer, hooked on the story Geralt finally deemed worth divulging. 

“Some, but not as bright as the stories make it out to be, and only around some of the stones,” Geralt explained. He picked up a stick and made the effort to move closer, doing so slowly in case Jaskier decided to move back again. He tried not to delight in the fact that he didn’t. 

“The glade looks like this…” Geralt drew out a series of lines, the outlines of the foundation of the keep that had once stood there a millennia ago. 

“Where?” Jaskier whispered, looking first down at the rough sketch then up at Geralt’s face, his eyes bright and trusting. 

Oh. Geralt swallowed, looking up at the sky and trying to think of where they were. Fuck. 

“The Equinox is next week. We could be there by the day before,” He had been a few times and he knew there was no danger to Jaskier and it wasn’t like they had to be anywhere. If a small detour from the path would get Jaskier to look at him like that again after the dragon hunt, well, who was Geralt to say no?

-o-O-o-

They arrived with plenty of time to set camp. Jaskier had set a satchel aside with loose sheets of paper, a few quills and ink. He prepared himself for adventure in a way that Geralt prepared for battle, the tools of his trade neatly arranged and waiting for practiced hands to implement them. 

Geralt found himself watching those very same hands closely, frowning at the tug in his chest that made him want to reach for them. Usually, he had this under control, but just in that moment he found it nearly impossible. 

“Is that a new song you’re working on?” Geralt asked as he handed Jaskier the waterskin. “I could hear you from the river.” 

Jaskier only tilted his head in confusion and Geralt didn’t miss how he carefully moved his fingers not to brush against his. Another thing that had been lost on the mountain, the easy way Jaskier used to touch him. Gone were the days of fingers meeting along the edge of handed goblets and whetstones, pats on the shoulder as he passed Geralt in cramped shared rooms, and gentle hip checks as they walked side by side. The soft humming he had heard earlier seemed to swell for a moment and then it was gone again. 

“I… no.” Jaskier finally answered, looking off into the wood where they would follow the trail tomorrow to the glen. His face was pinched as he tilted his head this way and that as if trying to catch something in the wind. But even as he said no, he hummed a few bars to the melody anyways, looking all too not pleased about it. 

Through the night, Geralt caught snippets of the music but now also the steady breathing of Jaskier asleep on the other side of the fire. He finally drifted off into something resembling sleep, a strange melody ghosting over his lips. 

The day of the Equinox was otherwise unceremonious. They woke, broke camp, packed, carefully banked the fire and then set out onto the trail that would take them to the ruins of Corkirk Hall. 

It was nearly nightfall by time the reached the ridge, a soft slope that tumbled easily down into the clearing below. From their vantage point, they could make out the place where the foundation had grown over with roots and grass, though the labyrinth of stones still told the story of the keep’s once expansive footprint. Only a marking stone stood as evidence the place had not been completely forgotten. 

Jaskier read it, tracing his fingers over the ancient Elder runes. 

“To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found In the darkness of the night Will your heart light to the sound”

“Yeah, that’s been here as long as the ghosts, but no one understands what it means. The Witchers have tried nearly everything. One even tried breaking the marker, but it only repaired itself,” Geralt explained, keeping his voice down. Even if he knew that this place wasn’t dangerous, it didn’t feel right to speak so loudly. 

Jaskier only worried his lip and didn’t seem to look at Geralt as he perched on an outcrop of stone, his bright blue eyes observing intently. Geralt settled against a tilted tree and they waited in not uncomfortable silence as the sun set behind them. He knew how this was going to end, at least, that’s what he thought.

As the last rays of light faded from the tune from the day before began to pluck itself out of the trees and stones. Two soft voices, as though they were coming up through rushing water joined, their words nearly lost in the wind. 

“What the fuck?” Geralt bolted upright, drawing his sword but as he did, Jaskier only gasped. 

“I know…” Jaskier whispered, his eyes never leaving the pile of stones. 

Geralt followed his gaze and his jaw nearly dropped to his boots. There, swirling as leaves buffeted by a breeze, danced two figures of watery light. The song began to swell and Geralt’s medallion vibrated to the rhythm of it, adding just another instrument to the loosely conducted orchestra that built up around them. 

“I know!” Jaskier’s head snapped up, looking at Geralt and his eyes looked as lost as Geralt felt. “Those who know…” He gave Geralt a weak smile and tilted his head. “You’re going to kill me,” Jaskier sighed resignedly. 

And before Geralt could ask him what he meant, Jaskier was grabbing his loot and taking off down the hill, directly into the ruins. 

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered as he drew his sword, sliding down after Jaskier. “Jaskier, wait!” 

“I can’t Geralt! I can help. Let me help.” Jaskier was at a full sprint, his dark hair nearly pitch in the low light. But then… 

Geralt stopped, his chest constricting as he watched on in horror and confusion. The moment Jaskier’s feet crossed onto the foundation, every step he took sent up soft sparks of light, like fireflies. Stones illuminated around him and every blade of grass seemed to shed more and more bursts of light. 

Geralt had always thought Jaskier was attractive, he’d even admit to it if pressed. But here, as whatever magic swirled around him, encasing him in soft warm light, he was easily, one of the most beautiful things Geralt had ever seen. 

Jaskier stopped, not far from where the figures danced, their hands never touching though they reached desperately tried to through the barricade of light. He pulled his lute around, quickly tuning it up, humming through a series of scales before he found the one he was looking for. 

Geralt sheathed his swords, and stepped carefully forward. The medallion on his chest hummed louder and for a moment, it pulled Jaskier’s attention. 

When their eyes met, Jaskier’s eyes went wide, but he only shook his head as if to clear it, and turned back to the figures. What had he seen? 

Geralt didn’t have enough time to wonder before Jaskier opened his mouth and began to sing. His voice was as clear and sweet as ever, though it was distinctly somber. It may have been the years of traveling with Jaskier that Geralt recognized it for what it was, the compliment of a three part harmony. With Jaskier’s voice mixed in, the melody around them seemed to come together and the words that had been muffled through a veil of magic now came crisp and sharp, ringing out across the valley and through the trees. 

Geralt didn’t understand the language, but he too knew the words. He knew the tune as though it had been a lullaby in his childhood that he caught through a window of a nursery and suddenly could recall the feel of the words on his lips. He was not a skilled singer, not like Jaskier, but he soon found that his voice too joined in. 

Though he couldn’t understand exactly what the words were, he understood what they said. 

“Though you are lost my love, it will be alright. I am still here my love, it will be alright. It will be alright. Please be my love once more and I promise, it will be alright.” 

Jaskier played through the last bars, his head tilted back as he sang to the stars above and Geralt could only watch in wonder as he was nearly blinded by the light that washed off of Jaskier, thick and silvery as moonlight on fresh snow. The words hit him then and he nearly fell to his knees with them. 

To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found In the darkness of the night Will your heart light to the sound

What was it Jaskier had said? “I know.” Geralt knew too but had been far too stubborn, far too prideful to say. It dawned on him with how he watched his heart, Jaskier, light to the sound of the music he wove through the magic of this place. 

The last notes faded and with them, the ghosts finally locked hands, their eyes wide in their surprise. How long had they waited, Geralt wondered sadly. How long had Witchers been coming here trying to release these poor souls and all it took was the heart of a bard? His heart?

They watched in silence as the figures embraced, slowly dissolving into a shower of lights. 

It was Jaskier that broke the silence as he fell forward, gasping for air, the spell finally broken. Geralt rushed forward, pressing in, disregarding the way Jaskier tried to brush him off. He was shaking with exhaustion, his skin clammy as sweat cooled in the autumn night air. 

“Not sure what you just saw there,” Jaskier chuckled, gulping and not looking at Geralt. “But I don’t thing there will be a problem with people hearing singing in the ruins anymore.” He gave Geralt a tired kind of smile, his eyes incredibly sad. 

To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found

“Jaskier…” Geralt reached out with tentative hands, slowly moving them to cup Jaskier’s face. He would leave him room to pull away if he wanted. 

Jaskier didn’t. 

“Jask, please. Please forgive me, I have been-” he huffed, running a calloused thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone. The second passing left a wet smear across the soft skin there and Geralt frowned. “I saw you. I saw you in a light I didn’t know was there,” he admitted. 

“What are you saying Geralt?” he leaned in closer, even in the now dark, the light from earlier seemed caught in his eyes. 

“I mean, I heard you. I heard the song. I’ve always heard you, Jaskier, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

Jaskier chuckled, wet and desperate as he surged forward in Geralt’s arms, kissing him as they knelt in the ruins of a long forgotten place, empty of the love that had haunted it, but filled with the melody of love come again.

[narniaandplowmen]

The Wild Returned

Fandom: The Witcher  Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier  Also on AO3 6773 words.

General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply Complete

When he arrived back at the foot of the mountain, Geralt most decisively went in the complete opposite direction of Jaskier’s smell. He didn’t hear the animal following him at a safe distance.

* * *

Jaskier didn’t necessarily plan on following Geralt. They just happened to be travelling in the same direction, that was all.

[Read the first chapter here]

Please note that this chapter mentions suicide, though no characters actually commit suicide.

CHAPTER 2 - The Wild Returned

He had thought it had been a misunderstanding, a mistake, some sort of error. Surely Jaskier would be teaching in Oxenfurt, or flirting with Countess de Stael, or gracing the court of some king or other with his presence and performance. But as time went on, and village after village and city after city and person after person confirmed that the famous Jaskier had indeed disappeared, Geralt started to panic.

His first instinct was to travel back to the last place he had seen Jaskier, to trace him from there. So that was exactly what he did. He asked for information in the villages he passed along the way, some of them more helpful than others. He didn’t fail to notice that every place seemed to have at least one citizen who, though eying him suspiciously, was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Geralt knew that Jaskier’s songs were widespread and popular, but he had never truly appreciated their effects until now.

It wasn’t till the first rain of stones landed on him that he had realised just how long ago it had been since the last time anyone had chased him away like that. And what had he said to Jaskier the last time he had seen him, maybe the last time he would ever see the bard? Something about ‘if life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands’?

He didn’t want to admit it, but the pressing silence without the ever-chattering bard on his side got to him. He didn’t even talk to Roach anymore, his tongue too heavy to fill the unfamiliar quiet around him. In the past two decades, he had grown accustomed to telling Roach what he wanted to tell Jaskier but couldn’t, but now there were no more words to say. What did Roach care that they would rest in an hour, that they would reach a village before nightfall, that the bird whistling in the distance was a rare black redstart?

The wolf still followed him, and still refused to accept any food. Instead, the creature occasionally left freshly-killed prey for him to find, like some invisible guardian, as if Geralt were some young pup unable to take care of himself.

* * *

They were a day’s travel away from the mountain when Geralt addressed the wolf for the first time since leaving Kaer Morhen.

‘I don’t-’ the words sounded broken in his untrained throat. ‘I don’t know when exactly you started following me, but we’re near the mountain range where I first noticed you. Well over 200 miles west of there, but still.’ He stared into his small fire for a while before speaking once more. ‘I’m here to find a-’ he fell silent once more. How could he even begin to describe what Jaskier was to him? ‘A- a friend, I suppose. Although I never told him that. Instead, I was a dick.’ Now that the words were coming he couldn’t stop. ‘I blamed him for everything wrong with my life, even though none of that was his fault. He didn’t tell me to claim the law of surprise, that was my own stupid fault. And I made the wish that almost made him die. And- And I can’t even count the number of times that the money he earned allowed me to eat, allowed me to bathe, allowed me to sleep in safety. And what did I do to repay him? Chase him away, like I do with every mortal that comes too close. I’m an idiot.’

If he wasn’t terribly afraid of chasing away the one thing that voluntarily stayed with him, he would have screamed.

The next day, at the bottom of the mountain, he decisively walked into the forest, towards the place he had run away from what seemed like so long ago.

When he didn’t hear the steps of the wolf following him, he pretended it didn’t hurt.

* * *

The forest floor revealed no footprints. The flowery cover of Jaskier’s scent had long since faded away, although the distinctive autumn pinewood smell that had followed him for two entire decades had not ceased to tease his nose ever since the fateful day he had cursed the man and left him for dead. Geralt knew it was foolish, knew that there was no way of knowing where Jaskier had gone, but he trudged on anyway.

The forest was filled with caverns and caves, some leading to long, dark, winding underground mazes, others leading to deep, endless pools or fast-rushing waters. The small relief that no monsters - save for himself - seemed to be roaming these woods was undone by his rapidly growing anxiety that Jaskier could have gotten lost anywhere. One wrong turn, one misstep and the bard could have fallen to his doom, or gotten lost in the tunnels carved out by centuries of streaming water. If Jaskier was truly gone, had truly disappeared into these woods never to be seen again, then-

Geralt didn’t dare finish that thought. Instead, he entered yet another cave and yelled the bard’s name, desperately wishing he wouldn’t find a rotted skeleton clad in red leather.

He continued combing through the forest and its caverns as the sun set, using the light of the waxing, almost-full moon as his guide. He was considering taking Cat when a sudden bark disrupted his search. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of a large wolf. It barked again, before disappearing into a cave, reappearing moments later as if to see if Geralt followed.

Muttering to himself that he was going mental, Geralt grabbed Roach’s reins and followed.

* * *

The cave the wolf had disappeared into was surprisingly light. Although the edges of the quiet pool would have been impossible for humans to see, the moon shining through the web-covered hole in the ceiling brightened the slippery stone and dark water more than enough for the Witcher’s eyes. More than enough for him to see a tuft of bright fabric poking out of a slit in the wall. More than enough for him to find sure footing whilst rushing towards it, more than enough for him to grab it, to touch it, to feel, see, smell, know that the shirt he was cradling, still smelling faintly of flowers through the damp, cavernous scent, was once Jaskier’s.

Geralt’s feeling of dread grew as he found more and more possessions of the bard hidden through the cavern.

Songbooks, lute strings, some coins, a comb, a dagger and an ornate ring.

And, as the angle of the moon slowly changed during the night and something glittering in the pool caught his eye, the freezing temperatures of the water was not the only reason Geralt shivered. Perfume bottles, a bag filled with clothes, rusted jewellery, tiny rotten wooden statues, various nicknacks and trinkets picked up during their travels, ones he had always teased Jaskier about when the bard complained about his heavy luggage.

It was sunrise when Geralt finally left the cave and rejoined a nervous Roach. Next to her stood a large, grey wolf with piercing blue eyes reminiscent of the man who must, had, couldn’t possibly be otherwise than at the deepest bottom of the underground lake, deeper than he could dive.

It was then that Geralt collapsed and cried.

They had been travelling for three weeks when Jaskier realised where they were heading. He had no idea why on earth Geralt would want to go back there, what there was to gain from visiting that cursed place where he had ripped Jaskier’s heart in pieces as if it were a loaf of soft bread served alongside a bowl of stew. Jaskier huffed. Living in the wilderness without his human body or talking companions had really taken away his more poetic tendencies.

He still followed, though he lingered wherever he could. That aching emptiness that had taken hold of him the moment Geralt had revealed his true sentiments, the void that had slowly started to mend itself as time went on, was torn open a little bit further with every step he took, every day they walked, every week that passed. Jaskier knew that if Geralt would climb that mountain back to the rock where it had happened, he would not be able to follow.

If Geralt climbed the mountain, Jaskier would turn and join his family for good.

For a moment, Jaskier feared that Geralt knew, that he had unmasked his disguise and was travelling to the mountain on purpose, as some sort of cruel punishment for continuing to follow him, against the man’s deepest wishes.

With every step closer to the mountain, that fear grew.

A day before they would arrive, the Witcher spoke, and Jaskier feared no more.

* * *

That night, as Geralt lay asleep, Jaskier slipped away in the direction of the forest where he had left his belongings. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

It was midday by the time he heard a familiar, rough voice call his name in the distance.

The sun had set by the time the Witcher came even remotely close to the correct cave. Jaskier stood and watched as the man methodically entered, searched and exited each cave, yelling a name he hadn't heard in almost a year. The forest, the caves, the chill in the air, the memories of the words spit in his direction not that far away from here tore through his heart as the voice breaking through the silent forest became more and more desperate.

When Geralt moved to step into a cavern Jaskier remembered lead to a steep drop into rapidly rushing water, he barked.

And immediately cursed himself for doing so. But it was too late, the man had heard. Of course he had, and now Jaskier had no choice but to act, but to point out the cave in which he had hidden his possessions, to lead him away from the danger Jaskier himself had almost fallen in. The gods only knew what would happen.

Jaskier closed his eyes and tried to be thankful that he at least got almost another year of being with Geralt.

Besides, Jaskier was pretty sure he would be able to outrun and outhide the Witcher in this environment, if worst came to worst.

The outcome he didn’t expect was the man coming out of the cave soaking wet, collapsing in front of him and crying.

[faline-cat444]

I think all the expectations arrived in multiple forms of one piece this time

[recentanimenews]

Manga the Week of 6/8/22

SEAN: As June continues, what varieties of manga do we see before us?

Yen On debuts Your Forma, a sci-fi detective story that asks the question: what if getting 5G wireless injected into you from a vaccine was actually real? and it spied on your every sense? This could be very good or very bad, and I suspect that depends entirely on the politics of the writer.

ASH: Hmmm. The genre certainly appeals to me, but I suspect you’re right.

ANNA: Yeah, going to skip this one and I’m generally in favor of sci-fi goofiness.

MELINDA: I feel a little “yikes” on this one.

SEAN: Also from Yen On: The Eminence in Shadow 4 and Sword Art Online Progressive 8.

Yen Press, meanwhile, has new manga volumes. Adachi and Shimamura 3, Bofuri: I Don’t Want to Get Hurt, so I’ll Max Out My Defense 4, Goblin Slayer Side Story: Year One 7, Konosuba: God’s Blessing on This Wonderful World! 13, and A Terrified Teacher at Ghoul School! 11.

Viz debuts Ghost Reaper Girl, a Shonen Jump + series by the creator of Rosario + Vampire (though under a different pen name). Chloe wants to be an actress. But she’s 28, and her window is closing. Can she find fame as a ghost reaper, though? Note that this series is being published flipped at the request of its creator.

ASH: Interesting! Not much seems to be flipped these days, let alone at the creator’s request.

SEAN: Chainsaw Man is also ending with Vol. 11, though a sequel is in the works. We also see Black Clover 29, Ima Koi: Now I’m in Love 2, Snow White with the Red Hair 19, and Yona of the Dawn 36.

MICHELLE: I’m always here for VIZ shoujo.

ASH: For sure!

ANNA: Viz shoujo saving the week for me!

SEAN: Tokyopop has A Gentle Noble’s Vacation Recommendation 5.

Hope you like debuts from Seven Seas, there are a ton of them.

I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend Into a Girl (Osananajimi() wo Onnanoko ni Shiteshimatta Hanashi) is from Ichijinsha’s Comic Pool. A boy trying to practice his makeup technique has his best friend offer to be a guinea pig… but the results are more than either of them could have guessed. Despite the light-novel-ey title, this looks like fans of LGBT should enjoy it.

ASH: I’m definitely curious about this one.

SEAN: Namekawa-san Won’t Take a Licking! (Name Raretakunai Namekawa-san) is from Comic Yuri Hime, and features a bullied girl who decides, for her high school debut, to become a delinquent. Unfortunately, now she attracts the attention of the disciplinary officer. I am always wary of yuri series described as hilarious.

ASH: A different sort of delinquent manga than is often seen, it would seem.

SEAN: Nightfall Travelers: Leave Only Footprints (Yuuyake Trip) is from Houbunsha’s Comic Fuz. Two high school girls investigate supposedly haunted areas of their town and grow closer. The art is apparently the reason to get this.

ASH: I’ll admit, the premise intrigues me, too.

SEAN: This Is Screwed Up, but I Was Reincarnated as a GIRL in Another World! (Yoku Wakaranai Keredo Isekai ni Tensei Shiteita You Desu) is a manga from Kodansha’s Suiyoubi no Sirius, based off a novel (not yet licensed, I believe). I’ve been told it’s another one of those “this becomes fluffy slice-of-life isekai assuming you can get past all the sexual assault and threats of slavery at the start” series. Sigh.

ANNA: No thank you!

MELINDA: oh my god.

SEAN: Lastly, The Two of Them Are Pretty Much Like This (Futari wa Daitai Konna Kanji) is a yuri series from the creator of Whispered Words (Sasameki Koto). A 30-year-old writer and a 22-year-old actress are living together as a couple, and we see their everyday life. This is extremely comfy and fun. It ran in Gentosha’s Comic Boost.

MICHELLE: Well, at least one of these appeals to me.

ASH: I rather liked Whispered Words, if I recall correctly.

MELINDA: This sounds actually great.

SEAN: Also from Seven Seas: Monologue Woven For You 2, the 13th and final volume of New Game!, and Trapped in a Dating Sim: The World of Otome Games is Tough for Mobs 5.

Kodansha has MORE Shuzo Oshimi in print next week, with Welcome Back, Alice (Okaeri Alice). This runs in Bessatsu Shonen Magazine, and got a digital release in February, but the print came fast. Three childhood friends have what seems like a standard love triangle… then one of them shows up dressed as a girl.

ASH: Somehow missed this being licensed!

MELINDA: I don’t know what to expect from this. Maybe great?

SEAN: Also in print: Cells at Work! Baby 4 (the final volume), Interviews with Monster Girls 10, Lovesick Ellie 4, Orient 9, Sailor Moon Naoko Takeuchi Collection 2, SHAMAN KING Omnibus 9, Sue & Tai-chan 4, Vampire Dormitory 5, and What Did You Eat Yesterday? 18.

MICHELLE: Hooray for more What Did You Eat Yesterday?!

ASH: Indeed!

MELINDA: YESSSSSSSSS

SEAN: The first digital debut is The Shadows of Who We Once Were (Nare no Hate no Bokura), a survival game manga from the creator of Until Your Bones Rot. It’s from Weekly Shonen Magazine, and… it’s a survival game manga.

The other digital debut from Kodansha is Joy, a BL manga from Kodansha’s Honey Milk. A shoujo manga artist is asked to write a BL work… and also discovers his assistant is gay. Maybe he can get inspiration for the BL by a fake relationship?

MELINDA: Oooo, this…

SEAN: Also digital: The Abandoned Reincarnation Sage 3, Changes of Heart 2, Chihayafuru 32, Girlfriend, Girlfriend 9, Kounodori: Dr. Stork 24, Love After World Domination 4, My Master Has No Tail 6, Oh, Those Hanazono Twins 2, and The Transcendent One-Sided Love of Yoshida the Catch 2.

MICHELLE: Insert habitual Chihayafuru squee.

ANNA: Gesticulates in celebration of the series, then transitions to despair at being so far behind.

SEAN: J-Novel Club has some print releases. We get Ascendance of a Bookworm’s 10th manga volume, By the Grace of the Gods 9, The Faraway Paladin 4, In Another World with My Smartphone 22, Marginal Operation 10, My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! 10, Otherside Picnic Omnibus 3, and The Unwanted Undead Adventurer 6.

J-Novel Club’s digital debut is a manga, The Saga of Lioncourt (Lion Coeur Senki), which is from Takeshobo’s Kissca. Office worker reincarnated as a warrior in a middle-ages era setting.

And also Forget Being the Villainess, I Want to Be an Adventurer! 3 (the final volume), How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom 16, A Late-Start Tamer’s Laid-Back Life 3, Marginal Operation 13, and Otherside Picnic 7.

Ghost Ship debuts World’s End Harem: Fantasia Academy, a spinoff of a spinoff of the series that is for everyone who wants to bone 10,000 women who adore them. This is apparently a high school AU version.

Also from Ghost Ship: Ero Ninja Scrolls 3 and Might as Well Cheat: I Got Transported to Another World Where I Can Live My Wildest Dreams! 3.

Denpa has two new releases. The Men Who Created Gundam (Gundam Sousei) ran, appropriately, in Gundam Ace. It’s a done-in-one omnibus about the creators of Gundam… but expect comedy.

Vampeerz: My Peer Vampires is a Sunday GX series about the love between a teenage girl and a vampire… I think. The description is vague, but I mean, title.

ASH: Count me curious.

MELINDA: Same.

SEAN: And Airship has two early digital titles, including a debut. 7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! (Loop 7-kaime no Akuyaku Reijou wa, Moto Tekikoku de Jiyuukimama na Hanayome (Hitojichi) Seikatsu wo Mankitsusuru) is, yes, a villainess novel. But this time our heroine has done this a lot. She’s lived full lives. She’s done different occupations. She keeps getting killed. Now, on her 7th try, why not marry her killer?

We also get the first volume of Classroom of the Elite: Year 2.

That turned out to be a whole lot. Thoughts?

By: Sean Gaffney

[haffpint]

Nightfall Travelers (2022) Leave Only Footprints vol.1 by Tomohi

Wednesday CBD Wish List at comix addix:

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds S06E19 “With Friends Like These” review - or more aptly named, OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT IS BUG HALL! I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS HONEY! Also, Ash from Supernatural XD

Episode 19 – With Friends Like These

Oh my fucking god!!!! Bug Hall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m going to love this so fucking much.

I’m obsessed with Bug.

Let’s see what happens.

That’s Bug Hall!

And Ash from Supernatural!

Oh, my excitement levels just skyrocketed.

Oh, my grieving goddes.

“Penelope, you gotta stop staring at her. Prentiss wouldn’t want us to sulk. You know that.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“I’m surrounded by testosterone now.”

“She would also want us to embrace Seaver.”

She baked.

“Gradua?”

?

“Kevin at the T.”

“And the E.”

“Come on, you.”

“Listen, I got an idea.”

“You and I could eat the U and the A, and that way it would say ‘Congratulations, grad.’”

“And here I always imagined you feeding me strawberries.”

Oh, that was exactly what the Doctor ordered.

“How you doing?”

“All right. I’m worried about the team.”

“And Strauss thinks that adding a probationary agent is gonna solve our problems.”

“Seaver knows she’s not replacing Prentiss.”

“I know. And she’s got potential, but we need an experienced profiler and we need one now.”

“Have you started looking yet?”

“Yeah. Let me know if you have any ideas.”

Again with the new people to the team? Please, I haven’t even reached Penelope’s’ stage of grief-baking, can you let me have a little time? Please?

“Congratulations, Agent Seaver.”

Ha. He fist-bumped her, I love my Italian grandpa.

“Who made the cupcakes?”

“I did.”

“Let’s get started.”

“Okay, we’re going to Portland, Oregon, and it’s not for a Dead Moon concert.”

“So, Jay Johnson, a DJ, was cutting through an alley on his way home after leaving a club when he was bludgeoned by a pipe and then stabbed 31 times. His watch, his cell, and his computer were stolen.”

“That was two days ago.”

“Now, early this morning, Karen Heywood, a 30-year-old nurse, she died during a home invasion. She was stabbed 40 times, but first she was bludgeoned with weapons of opportunity.”

“Eight different ones, to be exact.”

“That’s too many for one person.”

“There was a left- and right-handed killer according to the ME report.”

“Yeah, but eight different weapons.”

“So we’re looking for a group.”

“Yeah, it seems that way.”

“And the left-handed wounds were deeper than the right.”

“Maybe a woman was involved?”

“Or a weak man. Anything taken from the house?”

“According to a neighbor, just some random stuff … a computer, some jewelry, a framed picture of Lily. And a pawnable items.”

“What do we have, serial-killing crooks?”

“Sounds like a musical.”

I think I just died.

“Why kill them if it’s just for the money?”

“That’s what we have to find out.”

“And we’ve got eight hours till nightfall. Let’s go.”

I’m still not okay with this:

Lisette Reese: “The old faiths light their candles all about, but burly truth comes by and puts them out.”

“So both victims around the same age and killed at night.”

“One in an alley on the way to his car, the other in her home after coming from the grocery after work.”

“There’s extreme overkill in both.”

“Overkill usually implies a personal relationship.”

“Or it could mean that the victim represents someone for whom the killer has extreme anger.”

“These unsubs are night owls, stalking and killing other night owls.”

”And they’re also disorganized.”

“In one they subdued their victims by hitting them with a pipe found in the scene, and in the other they used a knife, followed by seven other items found in the kitchen. A doorstep, even a ceramic cat.”

“All of this just to steal?”

I love it that one of the crime scene photos is the broken ceramic kitty.

“When a gang mentality sets is, unsubs become more capable of heinous acts.”

“It’s still odd.”

And you’re still annoying.

“The incidence of robbery is so low in this area.”

“That’s why I started working a geographical profile.”

“First thing’s first, I factored in journey to crime distance. If you look here, you’ll see that this area of Portland is well within the expected 5-mile radius. I also factored in distance of decay.”

“What does distance have to do with decay?”

Someone punch the blonde.

“It’s how geo-profilers measure relative probability of an offender traveling outside his comfort zone.”

“Unsubs prefer to stay in an area that they know well.”

“Like you’d commute to work or to the gym.”

“The closer the crime scenes, the greater the likelihood it is that the unsubs lives or works nearby.”

“Based on my algorithm, the unsubs either live or work in the area.”

“Detective, did your people process the crime scene?”

“The ME’s report says she died after the second stab wound because they hit an artery. The other wounds didn’t bleed.”

“So why inflict 38 more?”

“We see it sometimes with groups. The fact that others are involved helps each of them rationalize their own violent behavior.”

“Like Mason and the genocide in Darfur.”

“These unsubs like the feeling of killing. They get a high from the adrenaline release.”

“Yeah, but that lasts only as long as the victim keeps struggling. That’s not what happened here.”

“So Mr. Johnson exits the nightclub through the back door to get to his car. Maybe one unsub can watch from over there and the other from back there.”

“Then when he gets here, another unsub hits him with a pipe and it’s game on.”

“Look at the vials, Reid. This is a drug corridor.”

“That would explain why there’s so much overkill.”

“Maybe they were on something.”

“On the jet I did some research on the club. A year ago, someone OD’ed inside. Since then new management’s clamped down on the partying.”

“Which means the unsubs more likely fit in to this area.”

“Well, if you can’t party inside, then you come out here.”

“They’re probably the same age.”

“Yeah, mid-20s.”

“I checked the back. There’s a flat-screen, a desktop, and a bicycle.”

“Now, if this group’s going for pawnable items, why take a picture of a lily and other random things.”

“Maybe they ran out of time.”

“It’s not a very busy neighborhood.”

“Is the TV bolted down?”

“No. So a group of unsubs would have grabbed it.”

“What if we’re looking for a single unsub?”

“You think all these footprints were made by one person?”

“A group so disorganized wouldn’t do something as hyper-organized as wearing the same shoe. No, I don’t think it’s a group. I think it’s one very erratic killer.”

“I’ll let Morgan know.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see a group here that night?”

“Is it possible there was a group out in the parking lot?”

“All right, tell me where you saw Karen first.”

“Any other customers there?”

“Why would you have two registers open that time of night?”

“What did this guy look like?”

“Did this guy and Karen interact?”

“Just put her head down and said something dismissive back?”

“We tend to do that when strange people talk to us. Unfortunately, it can backfire.”

Oh shit. You learn something new every day.

“Yeah, Hotch. You were right.”

“He was by himself, but he was acting strange, like he was being followed>”

“Reid and Seaver went to the club and found that the first victim was killed in an area of high drug use. If he’s hallucinating, it could be PCP.”

“That would explain why he stole random things from Karen’s place. He was out of it.”

“And the erratic patterns in the stabbing.”

“The adrenaline rush from the drugs is probably behind the overkill.”

“Go ahead, Garcia.”

“Okay, I checked all the local pawn shops to see if any of those stolen items had shown up there.”

“I’m coming up empty.”

“Maybe he’s trading the goods for drugs.”

“What do you mean, he? We’re talking about a group, right?”

“No, we think it’s a solo addict who’s hallucinating that he’s not alone.”

“Wow. That is a game changer. Thanks.”

“He’s continuing the postmortem stabbing.”

“He’s accelerating. Two kills two days apart.”

“If he’s on PCP, he’d be so violent he’d use every muscle he had. He’d strangle, kick, bludgeon.”

“The bedroom’s a mess. We need to find someone who knew the place in order to figure out specifically what was taken.”

“Hey, guys. You hear that?”

“Footsteps upstairs?”

“You think they heard something?”

“I think the person upstairs did.”

I seriously like this woman. If only because she sounds so fucking innocent and childlike.

“Ma’am, when did you hear the screaming?”

“Well, then you must have heard the unsub, because according to the ME, Joe died around 2:45.”

“Our suspect, ma’am.”

“What exactly was the person yelling?”

“Was anybody talking back to him?”

“You know, maybe he was having a conversation with his hallucination.”

“We’re not really sure, ma’am.”

“You’ve been a really big help, Mrs. Donolly. Thank you very much.”

“PCP hallucinations are terrifying. He wouldn’t want to talk to them.”

“Well, hallucinations from mental illnesses are not violent.”

“You know, he’s in his 20s and was acting paranoid in the supermarket. He sounds like a paranoid schizophrenic to me.”

“The disease does manifest itself at this age.”

“What if the people he’s seeing are blaming him for something.”

“Or worse.”

“The voices in his head could be telling him to kill.”

I love a smiley Bug, but seriously - this is freaky.

“We believe our unsub is a white male paranoid schizophrenic who suffers from hallucinations. Since schizophrenic breaks usually occur in your early 20s, we believe he’s around this age and that he lives nearby.”

“We believe something happened to our unsub in childhood. Childhood voices are telling him to kill, or he’s misinterpreting them as doing so. Our unsub has probably been coping until now, but a recent stressor brought him back to that childhood incident and is causing him to act out.”

My honey having his headaches again. And of course Derek notices.

“Now, once we figure out what happened when he was a kid and the stressor that recently triggered a relapse, we’ll be that much closer to narrowing down the killer’s identity.”

“Eyes …”

“You know, that profile kind of makes it sound like schizophrenia leads to serial killing.”

“That’s not what we said at all, Reid.”

“You know, my mom has schizophrenia. There are many different types.”

“I know that.”

“Catatonic, disorganized … just because someone suffers from inability to organize their thoughts or they can’t bathe or dress themselves, it doesn’t mean they’d stab someone in the chest 30 times postmortem.”

“Reid, what’s really going on?”

“Our unsub’s hallucinations aren’t fractured like a typical schizophrenic.”

“They’re vivid and clear, leading me to believe that we’re missing an important variable.”

“Rather than making crazy conjectures, I think we should be trying to figure out what it is.”

“Okay, listen. I know this is a scary age for you.”

“It’s when schizophrenic breaks happen.”

“Have you talked to anybody about this?”

“Emily.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“They all say I’m fine.”

“Then why don’t you believe them?”

“Because predicting one’s chances of developing a genetic condition are like finding a penny in an ocean.”

“I have terrible headaches. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t focus on our cases.”

“I only read five books last week.”

Now we KNOW something is wrong with Reid. Only five books a week? Damn, pretty boy.

“Come on, kid, you gotta cut yourself some slack. You’re also depressed about Prentiss, and I get it … we all are.”

“Reid, I miss her every day.”

“But if your mind was splitting, do you really think you’d be able to figure out that this team was missing a variable?”

“I’m just speculating we are. You need to prove it.”

“Okay, then you do that.”

“The moment you are wandering around the streets aimlessly, that’s when I’ll be concerned about you. Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get to work.”

I love this friendship so much.

“Because of HPPA laws, I can’t get information on 20-something-year-olds who’ve had schizophrenic breaks.”

“Then check police records. maybe he’s been arrested.”

“Oh, I should have thought of that.”

“Blame the fumes.”

“Okay.”

Oh my goodness, she’s the cutest thing ever.

“Hey, six kids have been locked up in the last month within a 40-mile radius.”

“Any of them for theft?”

“Um … mugging, lewd behavior, car theft.”

“All right, go through personal information. Maybe they’ve had run-ins with the law when they were younger.”

“Yes, sir, I am on that.”

“You know, at the grocery store where Karen Heywood was shopping the night she was murdered, the clerk said the unsub was buying water and a lot of salt.”

“Saltwater could be used to torture his victims.”

“Well, there’s no evidence of that.”

“It could be used to remove victims’ blood from clothing.”

“Think about this, though. The visions that schizophrenics have can be interpreted as demons. What do some people do when they think they have demons inside of them?”

My genius chocolate puppy. God, he’s so delicious.

“They could get an exorcism.”

“Holy water is used in exorcisms.”

“What about the salt?”

“Salt is used in exorcisms and a variety of religious healings.”

“What are you looking for?”

“The number of churches in the comfort zone. Three.”

“All right, let’s see if any of them keep their doors open late.”

Lordy, I love my brilliant poodle. Someone should give him all the awards and the biggest mwah kiss there is.

Buggy Boy has gone to the church, and for some reason ‘Get Me to the Church’ from My Fair Lady is stuck in my head;.

“What did he say?”

“You’re right. He thinks he’s haunted.”

Talk about crazy-ville.

“Did he ask you for an exorcism?”

“And what did you tell him?”

Churches don’t perform exorcism? And yet ...

“Some still do.”

“I’m assuming he didn’t take your rejection well.”

“But he didn’t attack you? He didn’t threaten you in any way?”

“He’s probably gotten help from the church before.”

“Was there anything else about his behavior that you found odd?” 

“Like something he maybe said or did?”

Look at those yummy, moisturized lips from that tongue XD

He stuttered.

“Okay, well, let me know what you find, Garcia.”

“Psychogenetic stuttering begins in the area of the brain that controls thoughts and reasoning. It’s most commonly associated with mental illness.”

“I checked with the supermarket guy and the lady at the building, but neither of them heard stuttering.”

“Which means it’s either caused by the schizophrenia situation or maybe it’s situational. Well, the presence of it along with the fire information should help Garcia narrow down her list.”

“This victim’s a lot older than the others, Morgan.”

“She must represent something to him.”

“Maybe his mother who had him exorcised.”

“Now that he can’t get one, he’s taking his anger out on a surrogate.”

“Did the EMTs try to save her?”

“There’s a body imprint next to her.”

“Why would the unsub lie down next to a person he’s just killed?”

“He slept here.”

“Look at the number of stab wounds. There’s gotta be over fifty of them.”

“Seventy one.”

XD my poodle

“Do you know how physically exhausting it would be stab someone 71 times?”

“It’s hard enough to stab someone ten times, but 71 … he’d be completely worn out.”

“He’s accelerated wound counts, which means he does it intentionally.”

“Wait, that’s it. If you add the increased number of stab wounds and the fact that he slept here to the vivid hallucinations and the unexplainable onset of stuttering, you get the missing variable.”

“The guy’s an insomniac.”

“Just as adrenaline makes a person love the feeling of killing, once it leaves the body it makes them tired. The insomnia is what makes the hallucinations so clear, and sleep is the only release that he has from them.”

Yikes, so he has to sleep in order not to kill. Fuck.

“Okay, here we go. I looked at that list of schizophrenics that have been recently arrested in that 40-mile radius. I cross-checked it with ones that have gone to local paramedics to get schizophrenia medication like Thorazine or Prolixin.”

“Any of them have prescriptions filled for sleeping medication as well?”

“Yes, one. Ben Foster, he has a prescription for Thorazine and Ambien.”

“It’s likely he uses the money from the stolen items to buy the pills.”

“What’s the background, baby girl?”

And we’re back XD

“He moved to Portland three years ago. A month ago he was in an apartment fire, after which he got a sleeping pill medication because his insomnia began again.”

“Oh my. When he was ten, he was questioned during an investigation about a fire that killed three people.”

“It could be part of the homicidal triad.”

“I’m looking at the police report right now. It turns out two months before, his mom had a local minister perform an exorcism on him, and the three people who were killed in the fire helped perform that exorcism.”

“Was Ben charged?”

“No. he was acquitted in juvie court.”

“You got an address?”

“Uh, 2627 Halden Way.”

“FBI!”

“Seaver, let’s go!”

“Hotch, we lost them.”

Don’t feel bad, puppy, youj’ll get the next unsub, promise. I think ... don’t know yet ;)

“We’re gonna check the back alley. Come on.”

“I think we’ve got something in 2218.”

Come on! Come on! He’s got two kids! Come on!

“Ben, drop the knife.”

“Ben, we’re not gonna shoot you, but we do need you to put down that knife, okay?”

“All right, where are the other people in this room, Ben?”

“Right here?”

“Were they there for the exorcism?”

“Ben, they’re dead and they can’t hurt you anymore.”

“No, Ben. Your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“Once you get help, it’ll all stop.”

“Ben, listen to us. It’s okay.”

“We’re gonna get you a doctor’s help. I promise you that.”

“Ben, that’s not true.”

“Listen, the only way we can help you is if you take that knife and you stab me in the neck with it.”

WHAT?!

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure of it.”

“Put that knife down, okay?”

“Take that knife, jam me in the neck with it, and all your problems will go away, okay?”

I”m just laughing my head off, because I love it when Matthew smiles, and it’s so cleasrly his delusion but it’s still so fucking awesome and funny. I can’t explain myself properly.

See? You got the unsub, baby.

“We need an ambulance.”

Siddhartha Buddha: “It is not his enemy or foe that lures him into evil ways.”

I’m jealous of that cup again.

Oh, my sleeping honeys.

“Why are you still up?”

“I’ve been looking over Ben’s file. Turns out he’d been seeing evil imaginary friends ever since he was a child.”

“Ben was always a killer.”

“You think he had schizophrenia?”

“He may have suffered from some mental disease, but schizophrenia usually presents itself in your late teens or early 20s. Ben did kill those people in that church fire, which his part of the homicidal triad. And his mother thought an exorcism would get rid of the demons.”

“The only way you stop a killer is to catch him, Seaver.”

“You know, I always viewed serial killers as monsters. But Ben’s remorse seemed real. And that’s why I can’t sleep. I … I can’t get him out of my mind. Does it ever go away?”

“Luckily it does.”

“Try to get some rest.”

I need to hug this man something fierce. I really do.

Okay, so we’re back to some awesome end of review notes - I think ... anyway, I love this episode so much! ‘Cause we’re back to dealing with Reid’s headaches and his fear of becoming schizophrenic like his m om (I love Jane Lynch) and we got more Reid/Morgan bromance. Baby Girl is back XD and of course we get awesome guest stars - I mean, fucking Bug Hall and Chad Lindberg. Seriously amazingly built episode, but too short for my liking.

I’ll see you all for the next one, kay? Thank you so much for your continuing support of my brain farts. <3

[theonyxpath]

Hi, folks! As Changeling continues in the editing process, I’d like to preview the final version of Contracts, including the full text of the Contracts of Steed.

Contracts are broken out into categories called Regalia: Sword for strength and aggression, Shield for defense and protection, Crown for leadership and rulership, Jewels for manipulation and temptation, Mirror for perception and self-transformation, and Steed for movement both seen and unseen. Every seeming has a favored Regalia, and the player chooses a second favored Regalia for their character.

Common Contracts are deals the True Fae originally negotiated for their servants. They focus on extending senses, and shaping what’s already there, whether it be emotions or physical phenomena.

Royal Contracts are agreements the Gentry originally forged for themselves, which changelings have been able to make themselves party to. They deal with creating people, places, and things out of whole cloth, directly tampering with minds, forcing people to do your bidding, and affecting destiny.

Finally, Contracts have special clauses for particular seemings. One of these is always the seeming that favors the Regalia, while the other is another seeming thematically appropriate to the Contract.

Below are the Contracts of Steed.

Contracts of Steed

Steed is always on the move, traversing both time and space. Where the stallion treads, his hooves punch holes in reality that let a changeling travel from one location to another. Embracing the freedom of the wild, Beasts favor Steed.

Boon of the Scuttling Spider (Common)

The changeling scuttles across a solid surface strong enough to support his weight.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Effects: The world flattens in the character’s eye, until all surfaces are equally horizontal and equally upside down. He can move along walls, ceilings, or slick surfaces normally too treacherous to cross, as long as they are strong enough to carry his weight. He can move at his normal Speed, and acts without hindrance while moving in this fashion.

•           Beast: The Courser embraces all of the spider’s advantages, including its webbing. He may use the restrain move in a grapple as though he had rolled an exceptional success, even if he didn’t.

•           Darkling: The Darkling instinctively sticks to the shadows, granting his player a two-die bonus on Stealth rolls while he scuttles on improbable surfaces.

Loophole: The changeling swallows a live spider.

Dreamsteps (Common)

The changeling steps into the dreams of a nearby sleeper, to travel from the mortal world into the dreamer’s Bastion. He touches a sleeping target, and synchronizes his breathing with hers until he can see her dreams. He then steps forward into them.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Dice Pool: Intelligence + Empathy + Wyrd vs. Bastion’s Fortification

Action: Contested

Duration: Instant

Roll Results

Dramatic Failure: The changeling enters the target’s dream, but suffers the Flesh Too Solid Tilt, and the dreamer’s Bastion gains +1 Fortification until she wakes.

Failure: The Contract fails.

Success: The changeling enters the dreamer’s Bastion through the Gate of Ivory (p. XX), rather than entering his own.

Exceptional Success:  The dreamer’s Bastion suffers a ?1 to Fortification until she wakes.

•           Beast: The Beast may take on the mien of any of the sleeper’s nightmares that he witnessed. Once during the current chapter, he can inflict the Spooked Condition on her while interacting with her in the waking world.

•           Fairest: The Fairest sees a glimpse of the dreamer’s soul, granting him the Informed Condition regarding the sleeper.

Loophole: The changeling holds a teddy bear or other childhood comfort object that belongs either to him or to one of his Touchstones, while using this Contract.

Nevertread (Common)

The changeling leaves only scraps and emptiness in his wake.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Effects: The changeling stops to cloak one of his footprints: he can drop leaves over it, erase it and leave a pebble in its stead, or sculpt the earth until it resembles a hoof track. He then continues on his way, and the Contract changes all his footprints accordingly for the duration. This makes him impossible to track save by supernatural means, triggering a Clash of Wills, and altered tracks remain so even after the Contract ends.

•           Beast: The Beast lets people traveling with him benefit from this Contract, up to double his Stealth rating in companions. He still need only invoke the Contract once.

•           Wizened: The Domovoi’s footsteps leave traps in their wake, per the Safe Place Merit (p. XX) with effective dots equal to his Dexterity.

Loophole: The changeling leaves a note, bloody fingerprint, or other clue of his passing. This can be hidden, but must provide a clue to his identity if found.

Pathfinder (Common)

Combining practical navigation with omens and divination, the changeling finds his way in the Hedge to Hollows, trods, goblin fruit, and dreams.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Effects: The changeling mingles some of his spit or blood with earth from the Hedge, and uses the mixture to draw a compass on his hand. He instinctively knows the distance and the direction of the nearest general Hedge feature of his choice — the nearest Goblin Market or Hollow, a patch of goblin fruit, or an entrance to the Gate of Horn, for instance. The Contract only reveals information about the Hedge itself, not about creatures lurking within.

•           Beast: The Grim’s finely honed instincts also yield information about nearby creatures: how many creatures they are, and whether they mean ill. “Meaning ill” is not immutable — if the changeling pisses off a friendly goblin, it might then mean him ill.

•           Wizened: The Wizened automatically knows whether goblin fruits that grow nearby are beneficial or detrimental, and gleans their types.

Loophole: The changeling plucks a thorn from the local Hedge and leaves a drop of blood while doing so when he invokes this Contract.

Seven-League Leap (Common)

The changeling leaps legendary distances, clearing chasms and obstacles in a single bound.

Cost: 1 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Reflexive

Duration: One turn

Effects: The changeling hops up and down, regaling the air with stories of his athletic prowess. The player then makes a jumping roll (Strength + Athletics), and the character can clear a jumping trajectory of 10 yards per dot of Wyrd he possesses.

•           Beast: Seven-League Leap increases the Beast’s Speed by 10 for the scene. If he used this Contract in a foot chase (p. XX), he gains the Edge next turn.

•           Ogre: The Ogre can use his leap as an unarmed attack to crush an enemy, adding two to his Strength for the attack roll, and inflicting the Knocked Down Tilt if he hits.

Loophole: The changeling is wearing boots he stole from an enemy in this scene.

Chrysalis (Royal)

The changeling calls upon the savage nature that fueled his escape from Arcadia, howling like a great beast, or scuttling like an insect. He feels his own identity slip, drowned by the comfort of just being, and his body follows suit.

Cost: 2 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Effects:

The changeling chooses two animals when the player purchases this power, and can transform into either one by invoking it. He must have seen the animal before (an accurate representation works), and it can’t be smaller than Size 1 or larger than Size 7. He can choose a mythical beast, though he gains none of its supernal powers — only the physical form: Physical Attributes, Size, Speed, and Health. He can also use the animal’s mundane senses and modes of movement; he can’t levitate, but as a winged dragon he could fly. If he transforms into an aquatic animal, he copies its gills and aquatic lungs. While in animal form, the character can communicate with other animals of the assumed species.

•           Beast: The character can choose two additional animal forms when the player purchases this Contract.

•           Ogre: The character can choose animals up to Size 15 to transform into.

Loophole: The changeling is in the natural habitat of his chosen animal and is near enough to touch at least one of them.

Flickering Hours (Royal)

The changeling picks meandering paths through the Hedge, stopping occasionally to smell a flower or prick his finger on a thorn. While his path seems random at best, and ineffectual at worst, the changeling is actually weaving an enchantment with his footsteps that allows him to slow or speed the passage of time. Cost: 1 Glamour for the changeling alone, 1 Glamour + 1 Willpower for a group

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Duration: Until the changeling exits the Hedge

Effects: The changeling can extend this Contract to anyone traveling with him at the moment he invokes it; hostile pursuers, if they’re close on his heels, included. He may slow time by half, or speed it up to pass twice as quickly, for any of the targets individually. Until the sun next crosses the horizon, anyone quickened also gains the Fleet of Foot Merit, with effective dots equal to the changeling’s Wyrd up to three, and always has the Edge in a chase. Unwilling targets may pull free of the effect by succeeding at a Resolve + Supernatural Tolerance roll contested by the changeling’s Wits + Occult + Wyrd.

•           Beast: The Savage may freely extend this Contract to anyone he meets on his journey, if he spends the Willpower cost to include others once.

•           Elemental: The path becomes nearly impassable in the Elemental’s wake, and suffers the mechanical effects of the Ice Tilt with specifics appropriate to his associated element.

Loophole: The changeling smashes an antique clock or other old timekeeping instrument as he invokes the Contract.

Leaping Toward Nightfall (Royal)

The changeling touches his target, and speaks an impossible riddle that both curses and blesses her with time. What she has will be lost, what she lost will be found. When he finishes the riddle, and the target’s mind tries to wrap itself around the conundrum, he sends her hurtling through time.

Cost: 3 Glamour + 1 Willpower

Dice Pool: Intelligence + Occult + Wyrd vs. Resolve + Supernatural Tolerance

Action: Instant or contested; see below

Duration: Special

Roll Results

Dramatic Failure: The changeling sends a random target forward in time instead, chosen by the Storyteller, which could be himself. Upon arrival, the target suffers either the Volatile Condition (for objects) or the Spooked Condition (for characters).

Failure: The Contract fails.

Success: The changeling can send an object up to Size 10 or a character forward in time. The target instantly vanishes and reappears at the predetermined time in the same location, conserving momentum if it was moving. If something else occupies that spot, the target appears next to it instead. No time passes for the target. Sentient beings can contest this Contract. The changeling determines how far into the future he sends the target, to a maximum of days equal to successes rolled to invoke Leaping Toward Nightfall.

The changeling cannot end this Contract prematurely.

Exceptional Success: The changeling may also send the target to a new location occupied by someone to whom he owes a debt. He can’t choose the location itself, only the character who will receive the incoming target when it arrives in the future.

•           Beast: The Beast may allow the ravages of time to buffet sentient targets, inflicting the Disoriented Condition. The target must either find an ally to resolve it (landmarks don’t help), or let it fade without resolution at the end of the scene in which she arrives.

•           Darkling: Upon arrival in the future, the target doesn’t remember the scene in which the Mountebank invoked this Contract. This effect is permanent unless reversed through supernatural means, which triggers a Clash of Wills against the changeling.

Loophole: The changeling uses this ability when the target is touching part of the Hedge. A piece removed from the Hedge counts.

Mirror Walk (Royal)

The changeling steps into a mirror. He hears baying hounds in the distance, and senses a dark chill on the air. The changeling cuts his finger, leaving a bloody print on one of the myriad mirrors before him, and wills it to open to any mirror of his choice in either the mortal world or the Hedge.

Cost: 1 Glamour + 1 Willpower

Dice Pool: Wits + Survival + Wyrd

Action: Instant

Duration: Instant

Roll Results

Dramatic Failure: The changeling becomes lost in mirror space, which is part of the Hedge, and gains the Lost Condition. If he was reaching for an object instead, he drops it in mirror space.

Failure: The Contract fails.

Success: The changeling touches a reflective surface.. Once the way is open, the changeling can step through, bringing any companions he likes in a chain of linked hands, or simply reach his hand through to grab an object on the other side. The changeling must have touched the exiting mirror before, and both the entrance and exit must be large enough for him to physically pass his body or hand through.

Exceptional Success: The mirrors remain portals for the scene, and anyone may pass through freely with the changeling’s permission in either direction, without the need to link hands.

•           Beast: The Beast may end the Contract before he reaches the other side, deliberately depositing himself in mirror space; his player gains a two-die bonus to all rolls to navigate there or deal with its denizens for the scene.

•           Elemental: The Sprite becomes mirror-like after exiting the portal, only reflecting what is already in the room. This renders him invisible to the naked eye for a number of minutes equal to successes rolled to invoke the Contract.

Loophole: The changeling speaks the name or title of a character currently reflected in the mirror where he plans to exit. This can be a guess on the changeling’s part, whether because he knows little Mary goes to bed at seven and brushes her hair in the mirror beforehand, or because Mr. Witherfield locks up at five and his shop’s door has glass in it. If the person isn’t there, the Loophole doesn’t work and he doesn’t invoke the Contract.

Talon and Wing (Royal)

The character spreads his arms, or paws the ground, remembering dreams of flying. He then opens his mouth, to consume the dream and claim its power for his own.

Cost: 1-3 Glamour

Dice Pool: None

Action: Instant

Effects: This Contract can grant three different effects, which can be stacked at a cost of one point of Glamour each.

•           The character gains the mode of transportation of a beast, increasing his Speed by 10.

•           The character gains the senses of a beast, giving his player a three-die bonus to perception rolls and eliminating penalties in dim lighting or darkness.

•           The character gains the claws of a beast, giving his unarmed Brawl attacks a weapon modifier of +0L. If his unarmed attacks already deal lethal damage, his claws become preternaturally sharp and deal aggravated damage instead.

•           Beast: The Courser doesn’t tire, immune to mundane fatigue of any kind. Supernatural powers that make him tired trigger a Clash of Wills.

•           Darkling: A Darkling may add venomous fangs or claws to his transformation for one extra point of Glamour. Outside combat, this venom has Toxicity equal to his Wyrd and deals damage once per hour, for a number of hours equal to (six minus the target’s Stamina) hours. In action timing, a successful attack inflicts the grave Poisoned Tilt on his target. The poison remains in effect even after the Contract ends.

Loophole: The changeling eats a piece of fur, a talon, or another part of an animal he wants to emulate.

[twdgfanfiction]

Chapter 37 - Answers To Our Problems

Lee was woken the next morning with hands gently rousing him from his slumber. His eyes opened slowly, a yawn growing in his throat, he found he had slept on his back all night, staring up at the ceiling high above, he could see Alicia off in the corner of his vision, she had a soft smile on her glowing face. The sun beaming through the coloured window bounced off her thick hair, the ends circling on her shoulders as her brown eyes stared down at him, Lee found himself staring back at them through the thick haze of sleepiness, before he just rubbed his eyes as he sat up, groaning slightly.

Quietly, he listened as she explained. "Sorry about this, Lee, but it's morning. We should pack our things and get ready to leave for home."

He brought up his wrist to in front of his face, eyes unfocused as he pulled the sleeve back to show his watch, seeing that it was eight in the morning. With a low groan, he slowly rubbed his back, it clicking uncomfortably as he stretched, words rumbling deep in his throat. "Damn. I never thought I'd miss slipping in my office chair."

"If this was too much for you, there was some spaces on the pews." Alicia pointed out, looking around at the empty spaces around them, not even looking at Lee as she quickly added. "The others have gone to pack the truck with supplies. The leaders are gonna come around to say goodbye, and then it's off for home."

"We better get ready then." He replied, slipping out of the sleeping bag quickly. Once out, he rolled the bag up quickly, gripping on the fabric as he carried it back over to the altar, staring at the bare altar before leaving the sleeping bag beside it. Standing there, he glanced up at the cross hanging up above, staring at the frozen face of Jesus as he hung on the well known cross, his thoughts going back years, back to when his mother would take him to church every sunday. He remembered those days well. With a deep frown, he realised that he hadn't visited that church for a good few years, not since he got that teaching job in Atlanta.

Softly, he heard Alicia's voice call out. "Hey… I was wondering if you'd go on ahead? I just need some time here."

"Is everything alright?" Lee asked, turning around at her with a concerned expression.

She just stood there, staring at the altar with crossed arms and a thoughtful look on her face, eyes burrowing deep into the old stonework before she glanced up at Lee, a small smile on her face as she nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just… I know we have the memorial and all that back home, but being here, in an actual church, I have a chance to say a proper farewell to my friends. To everyone we've lost."

"Ah, I understand." Lee replied, a grim frown pulling at his lips as he just glanced over to the double doors, noticing hardly anyone remaining in the old building. He thought about it, and slowly, he walked over to Alicia, placing a hand on her shoulder, only to feel the muscles under his scarred palm and frown deeply. Seeing the fear flash in her eyes, before she managed to get it under control, Lee wouldn't lie, but it hurt him knowing that she was still scarred by what Carver did to her. He wanted to help her, but the problem was that he didn't know how.

"I'll just, erm… I'll go find the others, give you some space. Just come to the front gate when you're done, alright?" he offered.

Nodding, she offered him a grateful smile, her eyes sparkling with happiness before she made her way over to the altar. Lee knew that she needed space, and started making his way down the aisle towards the front door. He didn't spare even a glance back before he exited. Once outside, he felt the morning sun on his face, his eyes closing painfully as they adjusted to the light, his hand rising to provide shade. Snow that had been walked on laid over the path leading to the gate, footprints clearly visible in the dirtied layer of snow, and Lee's footprints were added when he walked down the path.

Breathing in the fresh morning air, he sighed deeply, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere around him, the sound of birdsong and people walking by, chatting nonchalantly to each other as if the world hadn't gone to shit. It was almost like back at Howe's, save for the space and open spaces. Lee actually felt slightly jealous of all the benefits the people of Wellington got, wondering if this was the life Sarah would have enjoyed if she did go with Edith and her group. The wind blew through the occupied streets, nothing more than a gentle breeze compared to the blizzard winds Lee was used to. Hopefully, the winter months would be over soon, and they'd be able to get more done in the warmer climate.

Reaching the gate, he pushed it open, ignoring the squeaky noise coming from it as he left the church behind, walking down the street by himself. The street lamps, unused for the long months that had passed by, just decorated the sides of the road, some stumps left behind from where a few of the street lamps had collapsed and been cleared away. Passing on, he gave it a quick glance before carrying on. Instead, he focused on a large oak tree, a bird's nest clear in its bare branches, the adults sitting in the safety of their nest high above whilst they waited for winter to pass, finding an adequate food source from the survivors to reject the migrate down south like so many others. The sounds of their song echoed through the air, and grew quieter the further down the road Lee walked.

Just like last night, the streets were busy with survivors going on to do their daily tasks, some driving a pickup truck full of hardware supplies; sheets of metal, wooden planks, along with all the tools necessary for build and repair. Watching as they drove slowly past, Lee smiled softly, carrying on down the road to the imposing walls in the distance, knowing that his people would be waiting there for him and Alicia to arrive. Soon, the walls separating Wellington from the outside world towered over him, casting all ground running along it in shadows. The slight heat of the sun had died once he reached the shadows, instead his skin reacting to the cold with goosebumps running all over his arms.

Rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to rid himself of the frost, he noticed the familiar truck sitting just a few meters away from the closed gate. Edith and Sam were already there, the former talking quietly with Joel and that, where as her brother had taken to conversing with Al, the female guard laughing at some joke that he likely told. Seeing her happy, it warmed Lee's heart, and his face showed it when he approached them, Sam turning to the leader and grinning. "Well, someone's had a good night sleep from the look on your face."

"Yeah, you could say that." Lee shot right back, a joking tone to his voice as he crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised as he pressed further. "So, what you two talking about?"

"You know, things." Al replied, a smile playing at her lips as she looked away, Lee's eyebrow rising higher when he noticed the dark colouring over her cheeks.

Nodding his head, he chuckled deeply. "Uh-huh, things. Anyone wanna fill me in on what those things are?"

"Well, when you got a lovely woman coming to my community, it's basic manners to show her around." Sam started, crossing his arms in a mimicry of what Lee was doing. "It's a shame that you have to go back to Howe's. I was beginning to enjoy your company around here."

"You've known me for a day," Al shot back, brushing a lock of her hair back absentmindedly as she added. "I think you can survive until I come back again."

"Hey, a day is a lifetime in this world. You never know what happens, so why not make the most of it?" Sam's voice dropped to a sultry tone, but Al's face just fell with those words, Lee knowing the events that happened the other day still cutting her deep. Lee stared at her with sympathy in his eyes, though Sam didn't realise the effect his words had on the female survivor until she started walking away, her voice stern and professional.

"We should get the truck ready. Howe's needs us back with them. When you're ready, Lee." With that, she hopped up into the driver's side of the truck, closing the door behind her whilst Sam just stood there, a dumbfounded look on his face as he turned around to Lee.

"Was it something I said?" he asked, receiving only a shaking of Lee's head. Despite the awkwardness of the scene between the two without Al, Edith walking over caused Lee to sigh in relief silently. Calmness was all that could be seen in her face, being back home with food and supplies bringing the woman's spirit up, and although her brother just stared and shrugged when she expressed confusion over what just happened, she didn't let it get in the way of what needed to be said before Lee left for Howe's.

With a gentle smile, she turned to stare at the crates sitting in the back of vehicle, one of the guards that came with Lee reading the same book she was reading yesterday, a pair of sunglasses on her face, hiding her eyes from their view. Whilst he stared at the imprint of Wellington's name on the crates, he listened as she started talking. "Marissa worked hard last night, trying to figure out alternate routes for us to take. She made this. Told me to give it to you before you guys head out."

She pulled out a roll of paper from her jacket pocket, passing it over to Lee as he slowly unrolled it, noticing that it was a drawn map, the detail amazing given the lack of time Marissa had to do it all. Lines coloured red flowed through the paper, detailing routes that they could take rather than the highway. Staring at it, Edith quickly added. "On the back are times that the Wellington trucks will leave for pick ups. She's decided to meet Howe's people halfway, if only to reduce the distance we both would have to travel. Plus, safety in numbers, isn't it?"

"That's pretty smart. We should reach Howe's before nightfall tonight, and the next stop isn't until next week." Lee pointed out, reading the times and dates on the back of the map. He had to admit, he was fairly impressed with the detail that Marissa went to making this, and he carefully rolled it back up, sticking it in his jacket pocket as he turned to Edith, nodding his head slowly. "Thank you, for all of this, Edith."

"I can't take the credit. I'm glad we picked those guys as our leaders, they know how to get shit done." Edith confessed, her eyes quickly shifting to behind Lee as her face softened, her smile widening as she chuckled quietly. "Well, looks like the gang's all here."

Confused, Lee heard footsteps approaching behind him quickly, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he spun around, somewhat panicking over the unknown target approaching them until he realised that it was only Alicia. Face red and shoulder rising up and down with every breath she took, she just stood there panting heavily, looking at both of them before she gasped loudly. "I didn't know I'd be that long. Sorry about that."

"It's no problem. We've got everything we need, so you ready to set off?" Lee asked, turning back to Edith when Alicia nodded and started making her way over to the truck, Joel and the others had packed everything up, all of them bundling into the back of the truck and closing the shutters down, trapping them all inside until they reached home. With a short hug, he muttered to her. "Thanks, again. Hopefully, we'll see each other again soon."

"Tell Sarah that I miss her, okay?" Edith asked. Nodding in response, he watched as she backed away, Sam standing next to her as the siblings watched their friend walk over to the front of the truck, opening the passenger door and climbing in. Closing the door behind him, he peered in the wing mirror, watching the two waving goodbye to him whilst the gate slowly opened, the truck engine roaring to life when Al turned the key in the ignition. Lurching forward, they drove along the short path through the gate and into the outside world, the vehicle continuing down the lonely road whilst the gate behind them closed, keeping all threats outside the safety of the walls.

Lee continued to stare at the walls through the wing mirror, listening as Alicia yawned quietly, stretching her arms out in an attempt to stretch her muscles, the cramp in them unbelieveable as she slouched back into the seat, muttering to the others in the cab with her. "Wellington was unbelieveable, did you see those walls? Nothing could scale them. God, those people are very lucky to live there."

"I gotta agree with you, but Wellington isn't impenetrable." Lee pointed out, finally looking away from the wing mirror and instead staring at his companions, Alicia surprised with his words. "You heard what the leaders told us last night. Those bandits aren't robbing because they need it, they have a grudge, and sooner or later those grudges will have a nasty effect on all of us."

"Why? What'd they tell you guys?" Al asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

Glancing over at Alicia, she and Lee shared a wary look before he moved his sights over to the driver, pausing for a moment before he explained. "Wellington's run into a population problem. Edith told me about how many people she was forced to turn away on her leader's' orders, and that because of shortages with supplies, people were caught stealing and had to be exiled."

"Damn. I mean, I know things are hard nowadays but… I always thought Wellington took people in no matter what. I guess I was just fooling myself." Al grumbled, glancing over at Lee as she confessed. "I ain't gonna lie, when Carver was running Howe's I thought about leaving. Running away with people to go and find the haven up north."

"Really? You told me that you thought Carver was doing what was necessary." Lee recalled, remembering Al picking Carver's side during the rebellion, even going as far as to reject Riley's claims that he sent children outside the walls out of cruelty rather than necessity.

With a guilt-ridden look, Al nodded her head, her voice low as she replied. "I did, but that doesn't mean I thought it was right. I was a coward. Change was coming, and I didn't want to be on the wrong side at the end of all it. If it matters, I'm glad that you gave me another chance."

"People deserve second chances." Alicia pointed out, turning to Lee as she added. "I believe the bandits are just scared people who've been hurt. Sometimes, hurt people do things that they shouldn't, and a lot of people end up dead because of it. If you were in Wellington's shoes, would you do the same as they did?"

Caught off guard by the question, he blinked twice at her, remaining silent as he then turned to stare at the long road ahead. Thinking about it, he slowly came to his answer and, with a grim face, he turned back to her, staring down at her waiting expression as he nodded. "Yes. I would."

"Really? How can you be so sure?" she asked.

"We have to have rules. Being hurt doesn't excuse your actions, it only explains them." He sighed. Quickly, the conversation came to an end, everyone in the truck falling silent as Lee just leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed leisurely over his chest, staring out of the window at the passing trees and buildings, the fields slowly opening up as they took the routes mapped down on the piece of paper that Edith gave him. Quietly, he listened to the hum of the engine as the truck drove along the snow covered road, and thought about what they had just discussed for the entire journey home.

A few conversation starters were tossed amongst them during the journey, though Lee didn't indulge more than a few soft spoken words, and eventually Alicia gave up trying to fill the silence. It was a good thing for him as well, as the familiar sight of Howe's walls came into view, small people walking along the top as they watched out for any signs of dangers. Despite the snow proving difficult to drive in, the group didn't experience any shortcomings during the drive back to Howe's, mostly catching the bandits off guard with the unknown routes they took, keeping their precious supplies away from the main settlement. The sun was shining in the sky, moving slowly towards the horizon as it would soon set once more, the skies dyed the beautiful colours that Lee constantly saw with the sunsets.

Al eased her foot on the brake, slowing the truck down so that the guards on duty could open the gate, allowing them access to the insides of their community. Driving up the path, Lee just sat there, watching the people pass by as they went on to do the rest of their duties for the day, likely getting ready for dinner and for the guards to start their night shift. Exhaustion had already hit him, despite only eight or so hours passing by, and all he wanted was to relax in his office in peace. Sadly, he would have no such luck, as once the truck entered the back of the building into the loading bay, Christa and Jack were waiting there with bated breath.

"Well, time for you two to face the music." Al pointed out, turning the keys in the ignition and opening the door, jumping down as she added. "I'll make sure the supplies are taken to storage."

"Thank you, Al." Alicia replied, jumping down from the truck on the driver's side whilst Lee opened the passenger door, slowly making his way down to the marble floor. Once down, he closed the door again, turning to Christa as the pregnant woman approached him, her face relieved that he made it back home.

"I'm glad you guys made it back. Omid and I were worried the entire time you were gone, he wouldn't stop bringing you up in conversations." She joked, earning a laugh from a tired Lee.

Stretching his sore arms out, Lee groaned softly, letting his arms fall to his sides as he replied. "Man, it's great to be back, but… it wasn't all smooth sailing up there."

"Why, what happened?" she asked, glancing at the guards as they unloaded the back of the truck, using a trolley to carry the heavy crates to the side for unpackaging. Slowly, he could see realisation hit her, eyes glancing back at him as she continued. "We're down a soldier. What happened?"

"Liam got bit during a break. The walker was hidden under the snow, he never saw it coming. Al… she had to put him down so that he didn't suffer anymore." Pausing, he glanced over at Al, the young guard dragging the trolley over to the side for the crate to be put down, remaining silent whilst the others chatted away about their stay in Wellington. Quietly, he added to his explanation. "She's not doing too good."

"I hardly even knew Liam. He was one of the people that came in a few weeks ago, right?" Jack suddenly asked, walking closer to the duo to join in on their conversation. Lee nodded slowly, not knowing much about the deceased either, and watched as Jack sighed, fixing his glasses. "Damn. I thought he and Al got on just like siblings, hell, he did her a world of good."

"That's not the only thing going on. We need to go up to my office, this needs to be said in private." Lee grumbled. Christa and Jack appeared confused, the former somewhat unnerved by how worried Lee sounded, before the four turned around and walked out of the loading bay. In the main part of the building, Lee glanced around, watching people walking around minding their own business, talking amongst each other with laughter and cheer in the air. The new spotlights fitted in the community were slowly turned on, keeping the place fairly lit despite the dying sunlight outside.

Moving towards the stairs, he noticed someone walking down them, their quick footsteps echoing against the solid marble, until the person spotted Lee and paused. It was Sarah, with worried eyes and tense shoulders, she sounded relieved as she called down to him. "I'm so glad you guys are alright!"

"Sarah, what's wrong?" Lee asked, worried by her expression and tenseness.

With a frown, she glanced up the stairs again, the sound of people chatting and laughing likely coming from the restaurant, dinner time being around that time. After a few tense moments, she turned back to Lee, her voice low as she confessed. "I'm worried about Nick. Over these past few weeks, he's been really down, and now he won't come out of his room. I-I don't know how to help him."

"It'll be alright, sweetie. I'll go and see him once I'm done with what I gotta do now, you just go and have dinner." Lee consoled.

Sarah nodded at that, though she was unsure whether Lee could actually help him or not, quickly adding before she left. "Okay, but I need to be there. He's my friend. I have to make sure he's alright."

"Sure thing." With that, she walked back up the stairs, leaving the group behind as they made their way up the rest of the staircase. Once they reached the top, they ignored the lights and sounds coming from the restaurant, rather briskly walking over to Lee's office. It was dark and silent inside, a complete opposite to the community around them, and opening the door, he moved inside quickly, eager to get the meeting out of the way so that he could see how the rest of his friends were doing.

To his surprise, once they entered the room, he noticed a blanket left in the corner of his office, Buddy curled up on top of it as the animal slept soundly. The noise of the door opening alerted the dog, big eyes opening slowly and a loud yawn coming from deep within its throat, pearly white canines appearing behind curled back lips. A smile crept on Lee's face, his body relaxed as the dog noticed his presence, his tail wagging wildly whilst it jumped to its feet, approaching his new owner with squinted eyes and parted lips, his tongue flapping out of the corner of his mouth.

Kneeling down, Lee stroked the fur on Buddy's neck affectionately, listening as Christa spoke up. "He wouldn't leave your office for the entire time you were gone. We used a few blankets to make him a bed, and he seemed right at home this morning."

"Heh, you missed me, Bud?" Lee asked Buddy, the dog just panting loudly as he slowly stood up again, walking over to his desk and sitting down in the leather chair, his hands resting on the cold wood whilst the others surrounded him. Christa, with a hand on her swollen stomach, leaned against his desk, staring down at him with worry clear in her eyes.

"What's happened? You seemed pretty unnerved by something before." She asked.

Lee and Alicia glanced at each other, before the leader took in a deep breath and revealed what he was told back in Wellington. "The bandits. When Alicia and I were talking to Wellington's leaders, they told us something. People who've made their way up had to be rejected because of population problems, and they've joined the bandit settlement set up in Charleston."

"Charleston? That's on the point where all the routes we use to Wellington meet… I used to live there." Jack revealed, his face grim as he thought over what Lee just said.

Nodding, Lee allowed Alicia to take over, watching her speak out to the others with a concerned tone. "That's not all. The shortages in Wellington had caused people living there to become desperate. They tried to steal anything they could get, and the leaders had to kick them out… It seems that the bandits took these exiles in, turned their anger against Wellington into something useful."

"Jesus, these bandits have a grudge against Wellington." Christa gasped, crossing her arms as she fell silent, allowing Jack to take over with a stern look.

"I thought we were just dealing with shitty people, but if Wellington turned these people away, they're most likely seeing Charleston as a goddamn haven." He pointed out, looking down at Lee as he added. "Anger's a powerful motivator, and with our alliance, we're putting our people in the way of the bandits' wrath."

"I don't see a way around this, Jack. Both you and I knew Howe's before the alliance with Wellington, we need them just as much as they need us." Alicia snapped, turning to Lee as she added. "Edith gave you something before we set off, what was it?"

Remembering that, Lee shoved a hand in his jacket pocket, pulling the rolled up piece of paper and lying it across the desk, the advisors peering down to look at it. With a raised eyebrow, Christa was the first to speak, pointing out dryly. "It's a map."

"Really? I didn't notice." Lee shot back, a sarcastic bite to his words that caused her to glare at him, before he went on to explain. "Marissa made this. It shows other paths that we can take to avoid Charleston, and the bandits. They ain't gonna travel all the way out here to find supplies, and they don't know that we're changing routes."

"That's smart." Jack approved, turning to Christa as he added. "We keep changing routes, they won't know which one to stalk for supplies."

"She put times and dates on the back," Lee continued, flipping the map over to allow the others to see the scribbled handwriting. "They're times when the truck will leave Wellington and the routes they will take on different times. We use these to meet up halfway, exchange the supplies, and head back to Howe's. Lee fuel spent for both of us, and the numbers on both sides will offer extra protection."

"I gotta say, thank god for Marissa sometimes." Jack sighed, straightening himself up once he was done looking at the piece of rolled out paper. "Howe's was fine whilst you were gone. Frank gave Christa some reports about food, but on the medical side, we're running low on antibiotics."

"There should be more in the crates we brought back, including some natural remedies." Lee replied, rubbing his bear absentmindedly whilst Jack nodded at that, turning to Christa to silently gesture for her to give in her reports.

"Thanks to all the farming supplies we gathered from that farm, Frank's pleased to say that food production has increased. He's looking into ways to store some for next winter, in case the crops fail." She explained. Pleased with how well his community was getting along, it was almost possible for Lee to push his worries back, if only almost. Leaning back in his chair, he listened as Christa yawned. "I say we end this meeting quick. You need to eat, and then go help Sarah with Nick. He isn't doing good nowadays."

"I'll get right on it." Lee replied, standing up from his desk and moving back towards the door, ignoring Buddy sitting in his bed, short whines coming from the animal as his owner just left the office with the others behind him. Jack carried on towards the stairs, likely returning to the clinic to help the rest of his patients, whilst Christa walked off towards the restaurant, Lee spotting Omid standing by the door, waving a hello to the leader before rejoining with his girlfriend.

Smiling at the both of them, he listened as Alicia paused, staring at the restaurant before muttering to him. "I'm gonna go and find Kate. She must have been missing me so much… I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Alicia." He replied, watching as she left his side to go and find her daughter. With a deep breath, he exhaled through his nose and walked over to the restaurant as well, eager to find Sarah. It seemed that she had the same idea in mind, nearly running into Lee when he was close to the entrance, eyes wide as she bounced off his solid frame and stumbled backwards, a meek noise of surprise coming from her whilst she steadied herself.

With a surprised look, Lee stared down at her as he mumbled. "Careful there, Sarah."

"Lee! Good, I was gonna go and get you from your office after seeing Christa come in!" she explained, moving past him with a urgent expression on her face, her words spoken quickly as she added, turning back to face the leader. "Nick's hardly left his room and I'm scared for him, I don't know what to do… Please, can you try to talk to him? See if you can snap him out of this?"

"I'll try my best. Let's go." With that, the two of them made their way over to the staircase, wasting no time in walking down the steps quickly, their footsteps echoing against the marble. Sarah was fast on her feet, visibly worried and eager to reach Nick's room to try and help him, sparing no looks to Lee as she reached the bottom of the stairs, quickly turning to walk over to the shop next to the greenhouse doors. Lee followed, staring ahead at the door with his gut twisting, unsure what he would see when he went inside, and Sarah shared his worry, pausing once she reached the room.

Bringing her hand up, she hesitated in knocking, instead glancing behind her at Lee, her lips pulled in a deep frown as she breathed heavily, trying to calm her nerves before she finally knocked, her hand rapping against the solid wood twice. The sound echoed across the main building. Waiting, Lee gulped quietly, something solid trapped in his throat as he waited anxiously. There was no response, and so Sarah reached for the handle, slowly opening the door whilst calling out into the darkness. "Nick? It's me, Sarah. Lee's back from Wellington and wanted to know if you were alright."

Once again, there was no response from their friend, and Sarah glanced up at Lee as he came to her side, allowing him to enter first before quickly following after him. The room inside was pitch black, the light from outside highlighting the bed, a body lying on it quickly revealed to be Nick, his back to them as Lee held his breath. Slowly, he approached his friend, his hand reaching out to gently shake him, and he immediately retracted it when he saw that Nick was breathing. Sighing out in relief, he just stood there as Nick turned around, eyes reddened and almost lifeless as he stared up at Lee.

"What do you guys want?" he asked, shifting his stares from Lee to Sarah as he added. "I told you, Sarah, I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She argued, a concerned tone to her voice. "You're not eating, you ain't leaving your room at all. Nick, I'm worried about you. Please, just tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I just want to be alone, is that too much to ask?!" he snapped, turning back around whilst Sarah and Lee shared a look, the younger survivor nodding her head at Nick, urging Lee to talk to him silently.

With a deep breath, he turned back to Nick, his voice gentle and soft as he called out. "Nick, man, you know we're your friends. We just want to help you, that's all. Problem is, we can't if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Nick didn't reply. Rather, he kept staring at the wall, his back to Lee and Sarah, and the former started to doubt that they could do anything to help him. Lee could see himself in Nick, the weeks after Clementine's death and all his friends falling save for Christa and Omid, and he knew exactly what it was like. Slowly, he moved closer, staring down at Nick as he started to explain. "Nick, I know what all this feels like. You lost someone close to you, and you're sad and hurt, you're probably thinking 'If I just did something different, this wouldn't have happened', but please, you have to listen to me. What happened with Luke and Pete, none of this was your fault. You can't look back and beat yourself up over it."

"What if I can't help but look back? You don't understand, Lee. My mom, Uncle Pete, Luke. It's never gonna stop. No matter what we do, someone is gonna die eventually, and then… it'll be our turn." His voice was low, but Lee managed to pick up what he said, feeling his gut twist at how utterly dead Nick sounded. Sarah moved closer to her friend, slowly sitting down at the end of his bed.

"You're right, Nick. Eventually, we all will die, but it's how we live during the meantime that matters. We can't give up, 'cause then everyone who died to protect us would have given their lives for nothing. We owe it to them to keep fighting." She explained, glancing down at her hands as she confessed. "I know what you're going through. When I ran away from Howe's, I didn't know why all of this happened. I couldn't think of a reason for what Carver or Luke did, or why my dad had to die. I had no one, and it was a scary time, but then I met Edith and the others. They made me see that there is still a reason to keep going, and when Lee came to look for me, I knew that I could be that reason for our friends, for you."

Slowly, Nick sat up, turning around to face Sarah with a crushed expression on his face, Lee watching with saddened eyes as his friend shook his head. "You guys can just take everything this world throws at you and still keep going. I wish I was strong, but I guess I'm just not built for this."

Sarah frowned even more at that, staring at Nick as she quietly replied. "No one is."

"We can't tell you how to get over this, Nick. That's for you to decide." Lee continued, adding with a saddened smile on his face. "We're here for you, though. Every step of the way."

Nick paused, staring over at the open door with a thoughtful expression, until he glanced back at Lee, nodding his head slowly as he managed a small smile. "Thank you. I mean it."

"It's no problem, Nick. We should let you get some rest, and then we can start work tomorrow, yeah?" With Nick nodding in agreement, Lee's smile widened, and he instead moved to leave his room again. Sarah remained where she was for a moment, appearing in thought as Lee waited for her by the door, watching with confusion as she turned back to Nick. Slowly, as if unsure she was allowed to do so, she wrapped her arms around her friend, embracing him in a tight hug that he returned, his own arms wrapping around her chest.

"I was so worried about you." She muttered, her face buried in the crook of his neck. "Please, if you're ever like this again, tell me. I don't want to lose you as well."

"I know, I promise." He replied quietly, finally releasing her from his grip as she backed off, giving her a weak smile as he suggested. "You should get some rest. You've been working hard these past few weeks, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired." She agreed, turning around to leave the room as she finished the conversation with a quiet. "Goodnight, Nick."

"'Night, kid." He replied. Lee allowed Sarah to leave the room first, closing the door behind him to give Nick some privacy, staring at the wooden door with a heavy heart before turning back around. Immediately, he noticed Sarah sitting down on the unused fountain, her eyes staring at the floor as he made his way over to her, feeling his gut twist with worry.

"Sarah, you alright?" he called out, sitting down next to her. She made no effort to move, rather keeping her gaze downwards as she thought of a response, each second passing by only worsening the gut feeling in Lee's abdomen.

Slowly, she sighed, and confessed to the leader. "I'm sorry, I just… I'm scared for Nick. After thinking about it, I realised that we're the last two from our group… Everyone I knew, everyone I loved. They're all gone."

Lee said nothing, instead allowing Sarah to vent her feelings without the fear of being pushed aside or judged. Rather, he just sat there, watching as she pulled something out of her jacket pocket, and eyebrow raised when he noticed that it was a photo. Sarah stared down at it with a broken look, shoulders sagging with grief as she turned it slightly, allowing Lee to see it. Holding his breath, he recognized the photo, and pointed it out with a low whisper. "That's the photo you showed me when we first met."

"I took this before all of this happened. It's the only thing I have left of him…" she muttered.

Watching as she placed it back in her pocket, Lee replied to her with sympathy in his voice. "I'm sorry about Carlos. You must really miss him."

"I do… Lee?" she suddenly asked, waiting as he hummed in response, glancing up at him. "Do you still miss Clementine? I mean, do you think the pain of her being gone will get any easier?"

Lee just sat there with a shocked expression, his heart constricting with the mention of the little girl, and he quickly turned away, grim faced and silent. Sarah waited for his response, somewhat uneasy with his silence until he finally nodded. "I do miss her. Being back at the motel, watching her colour with her friend and being a kid, I'd give anything to be back there. Honestly, I don't know if I'll ever get over what happened to her… but hopefully, the pain will get easier to handle with time."

"That's what I hope to. Thinking about my dad, the times we spent together before all this… it hurts a lot. I just want him back." She confessed, sniffing slightly as she rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, standing up before Lee could comfort her. "I-I'm tired. You should go and see Lilly in her room, she's been asking about you all the time you were gone."

"Alright. Sarah, if anything's bothering you… you know you can come to me, right?" he pointed out, watching as Sarah just nodded in response, before turning around and walking back to her room near the clinic. Lee watched her go, worried about her, and yet a small smile appeared on her face when he noticed Riley appearing, stopping Sarah and talking in hushed tones.

Standing up, he glanced over at them talking, deciding to go to Lilly's room to see how she was faring. Walking over to the flight of stairs, the voices ceased and Riley pulled Sarah into a comforting hug, the scene heartwarming for him as he paused for a moment, before deciding to carry on to give the two teenagers some space to talk whatever needed to be talked out. Taking the steps two at a time, he quickly reached the top, feeling his stomach growl in hunger. He hadn't eaten all day, most of the car ride with him worrying about what to say to the other advisors when he got back to Howe's, and staring at the restaurant, he pushed the feeling of hunger down until he was finished with talking to Lilly.

She had gotten her old room back, the door closed completely to give her some privacy from the rest of the community. Reaching the door, he quickly knocked on it, waiting patiently as he heard mutters from behind and footsteps, soon after the door opening to reveal a sleepy Lilly behind it. Wearing just her tank top and some shorts, her hair was all over the place with her undamaged, half-lidded eye staring at him through the haze of drowsiness, a eyepatch covering her damaged socket. With a smile, he softly spoke to her. "Hey, Lilly. I was just coming by to see if you were alright."

"Lee? Damn, I didn't know you were even back." She muttered, rubbing her eye to rid it of sleep before she gestured for him to come in. "Come in."

"I didn't know you were sleeping. I'd have left this until the morning if I knew otherwise." He confessed, closing the door behind him as he glanced around the room. A lamp on her small table lit the room up, shadows dancing across the walls as Lilly moved back to her bed, slowly sitting down as she yawned.

"I wasn't sleeping. It's just these damn painkillers Jack gave me. They're strong as shit, but damn do they really take it out of you." She explained, leaning against the wall at the end of her bed, looking up at her friend as she added. "How was the trip to Wellington? You sorted shit out there?"

Lee paused, unsure whether he wanted to stress Lilly out even more with the truth, and knowing her slippery mental state, he elected to keep it from her as he nodded, moving closer to her bed as he sat down at the end of it. "Yeah. We've changed routes, and have decided to meet Wellington halfway to reduce the amount of gas we're using. With luck, the bandits won't know where the trucks go during the supply runs."

Lilly breathed a sigh of relief, a rare smile on her face as she replied. "That's good…. I'm gonna be honest, Lee, it's so much better not being in charge. The motel… I'm starting to think that maybe Kenny would have been a better leader. After all the shit that happened. I could have handled it better, and that ain't up for discussion, I'll be stuck with that until I die, but if it matters… I'm glad you were there to help."

"Lilly, about what happened with Carley…" Lee started, noticing her expression fall when he mentioned the late survivor. "I need to know. Why? Why did you kill her?"

Lilly didn't reply. Rather, she just sat there, her eyes falling to her feet whilst she thought about his question, Lee giving her time to think of what to say as he remembered the woman, his heart aching as he missed her dearly, even after all the time that had passed. Slowly, she quietly muttered. "I don't know. I want to say because she stole, but honestly? I just couldn't stop. We lost the motel, my dad, everything I worked so hard to keep. I just wanted to stop something before it could take any more from me… from us."

"What you did… I didn't know if I could ever forgive you, if I wanted to forgive you, but you almost gave your life for me. When Carver pointed that gun at me, you took the bullet. I may never forget what you've done, but… I think I can start to forgive you." Lee confessed, staring up at Lilly with a weak smile, the gesture returned by the tired survivor as she nodded.

"Thank you. I really mean it, Lee. I know I don't deserve it sometimes, but I'm glad we can start to put the past in the past." She replied, noticing the exhaustion hit him as she then pointed out. "You should really get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning."

"Yeah… Yeah, I'll do that. Night, Lilly." He agreed. With a nod, she watched as he stood up, walking back to the door with a slow pace to his steps, his hand pushing the door open as he glanced back, smiling at her before he left the room once more. Closing the door, he stood there for a moment, and was about to retire to his office when he noticed Omid leaving the restaurant, Christa nowhere to be seen when he walked over to his friend.

Omid paused, noticing Lee when he was a few feet away, a smile on his face when Lee noticed that he had a jar of pickles in his hand. With a raised eyebrow, Lee quickly joked. "You got the late night munchies?"

"I wish, but I can't stand these things." Omid laughed, a smirk on his face as he added. "They're for Christa. She's been having all sorts of weird cravings, guess it's the pregnancy or something."

"Huh, can't say I'm a big fan of pickles myself." Lee confessed, crossing his arms as he stared down at the few vegetables left in the jar.

"Anyway, I suppose it won't be for much longer. Christa's due date is just around the corner…" Omid paused, his face a mixture of worry and excitement as he quietly confessed. "Honestly, I'm scared shitless. I mean, what do I do? I don't have any previous experience with babies."

"I think a lot of fathers have been here before you, man. You just do what you think is right, as long as the baby's healthy that's all that matters, right?" Lee asked.

Nodding, Omid exhaled deeply, appearing calmer as he replied. "Right. Thanks, man. Now, I should get the lovely woman I call my girlfriend her pickles before she throws the jar at me. See you in the morning."

"See ya, man." With that, Omid left him alone, Lee watching as his friend disappeared up the stairs, retiring to his room on the second floor. After Omid could no longer be seen, Lee chuckled deeply at his worry over the baby, shaking his head as he retired for the night. Christa's due date wasn't for a couple of months, there wasn't much to worry about until then, but Lee would be a liar if he said he wasn't surprised with how quickly those months flew by.

[azvolrien]

The Island of Stars - Chapter Two

In which we are properly introduced to the island of Starwatch.

~~~

           The cliffs above the harbour and the beach were sheer and forbidding; the high black crags loomed a thousand feet above, streaked and speckled with white where seabirds had nested or snow had gathered, while ancient volcanic columns made strange flowing shapes in the stone. Strix climbed onto Rionnag’s back and led the Stormhaven group along a winding road up out of the harbour to the foot of the cliff, where twin sets of gigantic vertical rails had been fixed to the stone.

           “Most of the island is uninhabited,” said Strix once everyone had caught up. “There are a few livestock farms in the southern hills and a couple of seasonal fishing villages at the far coast, but there aren’t any real permanent settlements other than the harbour and the Noctorium. More than half of the Order’s budget is devoted solely to shipping in our food supplies – and a good slice of the rest goes towards maintaining this.” He pointed above his head. A huge metal cage was descending towards them, fixed to one set of the rails by enormous wheels and suspended from impossibly long cables. It reached the bottom with a clank, the cables ringing strangely under tension, and Strix rode over to open its gate. “I hope none of you are afraid of heights!”

           They boarded one by one. The platform was spacious enough that they were not packed in like sardines and the bars came well above head height, but it was still open to the air on three sides and, when Strix rang a bell and the cage began to rise, more than one apprentice cautiously sat down on the floor.

           “There is a road up to the Noctorium,” said Strix, raising his voice to be heard above the wind and the cries of the birds, “but it takes hours – the porters will take your luggage that way and it’ll be waiting for you by nightfall. The lift is much quicker.”

           “My tad told me about something like this he saw when he was travelling,” said Una, pressing her face against the bars to try and look down at the harbour falling away beneath them. “On the Long Cliff above the Gorsfen.”

           “Ours is taller,” said Strix with a grin. Halfway up, a second cage descended past them on the other rails. “But it was designed by the same engineer. The Order was years paying off the commission.”

           After about ten minutes, the cage reached the top, where a pair of big constructs resembling hornless karkadann stood harnessed to the huge winch and a chest-high fence kept people safely away from the cliff edge. Ahead of them, a wide path paved with flagstones and cleared of snow led across a windswept plain to an extraordinary settlement divided across two mountain peaks. On the lower, rounder summit, the buildings huddled against the ground, close to the road that spiralled up around the peak to a dome at the summit, and clearly constructed to withstand the full blast of the wind. On the higher, sharper peak, a second domed building sat right at the top. A slender cable ran between the two domes, and as they watched a cage like the lift slowly travelled along it up to the high peak. Even from that distance they could see it rocking in the wind.

           “The Order of Night does have chapters elsewhere,” said Strix as he led everyone along the path. “Djeret, Pontevena, the Imperial City – but the Noctorium is our spiritual heart. There are more Acolytes based here than anywhere else, and everyone in the Order will at least have spent some time here training or researching.”

           “When does the Order expect the planets to align?” asked Master Gwyn.

           “Four days’ time,” said Strix. “That is, not tonight, tomorrow night, or the one after that, but the one after that.”

           For all its isolation, the Noctorium was surprisingly busy. The spiralling main street around the lower peak bustled with people going about their day. Like Strix, each of them wore a long, hooded black habit with a small lantern at their waist. Also like Strix, some of them wore a single white sash across one shoulder; some instead wore one as a belt, and the occasional person wore two crossed over their chest, but most dressed all in black. They were also all clearly familiar with Strix: most of them gave him an acknowledging nod as he rode past, while a couple waved friendlier greetings.

           Most of the buildings had only a single storey, and none more than two except for the dome at the top. The slate roofs were curved, shaped a little like upturned boats, and the walls were all built from solid black stone.

           Strix kept up a running commentary as he rode.

           “Now, the oldest parts of the Noctorium were actually built during the Raiding Period, roughly a thousand years ago and before the Sea Lochs were annexed into the Empire, but the hills were enough of a defence; none of the raiding parties ever bothered to climb all the way up here, so the complex was never fortified. The walls are strong, yes, but it’s to defend against the weather.

           “Now, most of the buildings here in the lower ward are accommodation. Those over there are the Acolytes’ dormitories, and despite how that sounds most of us have private rooms or share with just one or two others. Here on the right are the guest quarters – that’s where you’ll be sleeping, and where the porters will leave your luggage. Those chimneys are from our kitchens, and they’re attached to the Refectory. Everyone – guests and Acolytes alike – eats there, unless they’re busy with something further up the hill. On the other side of the road is our infirmary. The Noctorium is generally a very safe place, but, well – accidents happen.”

           He continued in this vein the rest of the way up the hill, pointing out storerooms, workshops, the laundry and the temple until finally they reached the building at the summit.

It was the biggest structure on the hill, both in height and in footprint; up close it was obvious that the dome they had seen from a distance was only one small part of it, perched on a squat tower at the other end of the two-storey building from where the cables up to the higher peak emerged.

           Strix climbed down from the saddle. “Now, this is the real heart of the Order,” he said as he led them up to a wide bronze-plated door flanked by columns and etched with a star map. Rionnag yawned massively and curled up against the wall for a nap. “Up in the dome is one of our two big telescopes – the other one being up there on the mountain – while the rest of the building is given over to other research. Later I’ll show you around our library and the Great Orrery, but what I think you’ll find especially interesting is just through here.”

           They all filed through the door and down a corridor to the right, following Strix past decorative sculptures and paintings representing the night sky and all manner of nocturnal life, until he opened a second star-map door and let them into a large room with a glass roof. It stood two storeys high, with a wide flight of stairs at the far end leading up to a gallery, and both the walls and the floor were packed with artefacts. Scrolls and books lined the shelves along the walls, while out in the middle of the room glass cases protected carved stelae and engraved tablets.

           “Welcome,” said Strix in a dramatic voice, “to the Hall of Prophecy!”

           “And you had better have the sardines I asked for from Duncraig!” said a new voice from above them. Everyone wheeled around and looked up to see another man in a black Acolyte’s habit leaning over the gallery’s railing. He was another elf and of a similar height, build and age to Strix, but his skin was a deep brown and his black hair was tied into many long, thin braids and bound into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

           Strix sighed and took a small jar from his pocket, holding it up for the newcomer to see. “Yes, I have your sardines. Honoured guests, this is Acolyte Tyto, the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy and someone much better placed to explain it than me. Also,” he said, watching Tyto walk along the gallery and down the stairs, “he really likes sardines.”

           “You say that as if it’s something I should be ashamed of,” said Tyto, taking the jar from his colleague and putting it in his own pocket. “Is this the Stormhaven group?”

           “That’s us, yes,” said Master Gwyn.

           “Well, welcome to the Noctorium. And while Strix and his wolf were off gallivanting to the mainland, I was hard at work here in the Hall. You see,” said Tyto, folding his arms and tucking his hands into his sleeves, “while the Order concerns itself with many different studies of the night – sleeping patterns, nocturnal life, bioluminescence – our primary focus is in the very name of this island. Starwatch. We spend these long winter nights charting and observing the stars, the planets, and all manner of other celestial phenomena.”

           “And we go through a lot of coffee,” said Strix.

           “That is also true,” Tyto allowed. “Of course, we have to keep in communication with the southern chapters – half of the night sky isn’t even visible from this far north. But, of course, we aren’t the first people to have looked at the stars. I expect people have gazed at the heavens since we first became people – and throughout history and before it, people have attempted to read the future in the stars.”

           Master Jones snorted and rolled his eyes.

           Tyto grinned. “So, here in the Hall of Prophecy, we collect those predictions made through the stars. For example!” He waved them over to a rectangular stone pillar, taller than he was and covered in tiny, intricate symbols. “This is the Taremu Stele; it was excavated in the desert ruins of that name. Translated from the Ancient Kemeti into modern Imperial, it records a prophecy relating to a solar eclipse. I’m sure you know the sort of thing – sun turning black, great misfortune throughout the land, famine, plague, and so on and so forth. Yes, you with your hand up?”

           “Did it come true?” asked Una.

           “Nope!” said Tyto cheerfully. “There was a solar eclipse in 1137 BE, and totality would have been visible from Taremu – we think the Stele only predates it by a couple of years – but there’s no record of any famine, plague or unrest following it and the city thrived for another five centuries before it was finally swallowed by the desert. Much the same goes for this tablet from pre-imperial Lagara, which refers to the approach of what we now call Rived’s Comet as a sign of impending doom. Again, there’s no evidence to suggest that any doom actually happened.” He gestured around the room, taking in all of the many exhibits and documents. “Doom is a very common theme among the sky-prophecies we’ve collected. Comets, eclipses, movements of the planets. And out of all of them, not a single one has been conclusively proven true.” He smiled. “Make of that what you will.”

           “And therein lies the lesson,” Master Gwyn said to the students. “The sight of things to come, however limited, exists only in the seer; there is no future written in the stars.”

           “There are a couple of seers living here,” added Strix, “but all they can do is predict the weather for the next couple of days.”

           “Which reminds me,” said Tyto. “Strix – they say there’s going to be quite the storm later today. Make sure Rionnag’s safely indoors for it.”

           They spent the next hour or so in the Hall of Prophecy, wandering around studying the various carvings and writings. Strix busied himself going through a collection of scrolls from the gallery, while Tyto was content to sit at his desk in the corner and answer whatever questions he was asked.

           Una went over to talk to him. “Tyto?”

           “Yes?”

           “Do any of the prophecies in here talk about this alignment?”

           “Interesting question,” he said, getting up from the desk and waving for her to follow him up the stairs. “The short answer is that we’re not completely sure.” He took a wooden scroll case wrapped in seal skin from one cubbyhole and prised the lid off. The scroll inside was made of some kind of soft leather rather than paper or parchment, and it unrolled without flaking when he laid it on a lectern. “The slightly longer answer relates to this document. It was discovered in the tunnels of Drekaheim, up north in Myrkfjord. We believe the city was once an Eyrie Culture settlement, abandoned after the extinction of the dragons and then claimed by the people of the coasts, but even so the modern population only ever settled in outbuildings and the sub-surface corridors; the deep tunnels are still largely unexplored, but the occasional intriguing artefact does turn up.

           “Bringing us neatly back to this scroll. This drawing at the top would seem to represent the upcoming alignment; the landscape beneath is recognisable as the mouth of Myrkfjord, near the town of Valsnes, while the planets and constellations are in the correct positions in the sky above. So it does look like someone predicted it, whether a seer or through astronomical calculation. It’s been theorised that they thought it related to the loss of the dragons, due to this other sketch showing a dragon falling from the sky, though if that’s the case they got their timing a bit off – whatever happened to the dragons, it happened five hundred years ago. The problem,” said Tyto, rubbing his close-trimmed beard, “is that the actual text has yet to be deciphered. It looks somewhat like the runic script of the northern Sea Lochs, but when one of my predecessors tried translating it on that basis, he ended up with complete nonsense.”

           “Maybe it’s Eyrie Culture writing,” suggested Una.

           “Perhaps. It doesn’t look like it, but it could be a form of regional dialect. The Eyrie Culture once ruled the entirety of the Dragon’s Teeth, after all – there must have been variations in their language, written or spoken.”

           On the other side of the gallery, Strix put his scrolls away and loudly clapped his hands. “You can come back here later if you want to read more,” he said, leaning over the railing. “But we should really finish the rest of the tour before you can wander!”

           Over the next couple of hours, Strix showed them around the rest of the building, including the library and the Great Orrery – a clockwork model of the solar system big enough to fill a room – until he finally finished the tour in the telescope dome. The huge telescope hung still and silent on its mechanism in the centre of the room, ready to swing around towards whatever corner of the sky needed studying.

           “The whole dome can open up and turn around,” Strix explained, perching on a wooden chair attached to the framework. “These cranks here control the whole thing. This one opens the dome, while these others control the directions of the hatch and the telescope. Most of the Order here aren’t mages, so it’s fully mechanical, no magic required. The one up on the mountain is much the same. The whole reason for having the Noctorium out on this island is so we can view the sky without interference from the city lights on the mainland; you might have spotted that there aren’t any streetlights on the road, so if you find yourselves out after dark be sure to carry a lantern or conjure a witchlight. On clear winter nights, the view of the sky from here is second to none.” He sighed and hopped down from the chair. “This isn’t going to be a clear night, though, so both domes will be sealed before the storm hits. The porters should have arrived with your luggage by now, so I’ll show you to where you’ll be sleeping. Then I’ll need to get Rionnag into his kennel for the night…”

           The porters had indeed made their way up the long, winding road from the harbour and the suitcases were waiting in a heap inside the guest quarters’ entrance hall. Everyone collected their own and carried them off to the rooms and dormitories they had been assigned. By some twist Una had a tiny berth to herself on one corner of the building, with a small window looking out over the sea to the north.

           The storm hit in the early afternoon. The cable car up to the high telescope was locked in its station, and protective shutters were closed over all the windows as the wind rose to a gale and fat drops of rain and hail fell like sling stones. Nobody even dared to venture across the street to the refectory; instead the Stormhaveners made do with a picnic dinner of whatever snacks they had in their luggage and turned in for the night.

           Luckily, when the storm rose it was to a clear sky and a light breeze. The shutters opened and the cable car started running again, and after a hearty breakfast in the refectory one of the journeymen took all the apprentices down to the beach by the harbour to stretch their legs after the storm.

           Una had just picked up a particularly interesting length of twisted driftwood, with a mind to taking it back as a gift for Wygar, when something let out a strange, deep roar from further down the beach.

           Everyone straightened up at once like a colony of startled meerkats.

           “What was that?” said the journeyman, frowning towards a distant lump on the sand.

           “There’s… I think it’s some kind of animal on the beach down there,” said one of the apprentices. “What is that, a seal?”

           “There’s more than one of them,” said Una, whose eyes were keener. “The big one’s not a seal, it’s a… I don’t know what it is. It looks sort of like an afanc, but sort of chunkier, and – oh, gods, that’s a person it’s got!” She broke into a sprint, waving her arms and yelling at the top of her voice, the others following behind. Once the creature was in range she threw one arm out ahead of her; a shimmering forcebolt tore through the air to strike the creature’s muzzle, too weak to do more than sting but certainly enough to make it back away, baring its predator’s teeth and flattening its pointed ears against the back of its long, oddly horse-like skull. Una yelled again and sharpened her own teeth into fangs as she dropped to her knees on the coarse black sand beside the person. The rest of the wizards caught up, raising their arms to conjure shields and concussive waves against the creature, and it fled into the sea in an ungainly lumber.

           Everyone gathered around the stranger. She was soaked through; fresh blood streaked her fair skin, and even unconscious she shivered in the cold. One foot lay twisted at a horrible angle.

           The journeyman pointed to one of the apprentices. “Run back to the harbour and get help – a healer, a stretcher, something! We’ll stay here with her.” The boy nodded and sprinted back up the beach. The journeyman laid his hand on Una’s shoulder. “Good eye, Una – let’s hope the infirmary up at Starwatch can help her.”

           Una nodded, pulling off her own coat to lay it over the stranger. She was a tall, strongly-built woman about the same age as Una’s parents, with long red hair tied back in a single braid. Tattoos of strange symbols drawn in fine blue ink covered her face and arms, and she wore a cloak made from the skull and pelt of a seal.

~~~

Guess who?

The cliffs at the harbour draw on two different inspirations. The columnar basalt (and the black sand on the beach) is inspired by the cliffs at Reynisfjara in Iceland, while the size of them is based more on the high sea-cliffs on St Kilda.

Strix and Tyto aren’t their original names, as you might expect; Acolytes take new names on joining the order, usually something relating to the night in some way. I don’t usually have specific people in mind to ‘play’ my characters, but I kind of picture Tyto as Chiwetel Ejiofor.

[versatilepoetry]

This Very Moment When I Was Dying Today

The leaves withered as time passed; falling inevitably on the ground to blend with disdainful chunks of dust, The roses blossoming radiantly in the valley; knelt their heads in meek submission as the chilly winds and nightfall took complete control, The lines of the palm bifurcated enigmatically all over in boisterous youth; started fading and diminished to a trifle as the perils of old age took over, The vivacious mounds of virgin clay which smiled mischievously under the Sun; looked completely battered and bashed as they were indiscriminately trampled by ongoing vehicles and metal tyre, The eyes which were once able to intricately sort out the inconspicuous needle from the colossal haystack; now looked as specks of dirt behind a factory of thick glass; as the years descended by, The legs which were springing and tenaciously marching forward at the ripening of dawn; now collapsed in a bedraggled heap at the onset of stark darkness and ghostly night, The towering castle which was once the pride of the royal emperor; now was a sight in complete shambles; with broken glass and century old cobwebs the only things welcoming the predecessor's, The image which was brighter than scintillating light in sweltering afternoon; now metamorphosed into lanky shadows; trespassing furtively through the fleeting blanket of dusk, The footprints which were profoundly distinct as the travelers strolled; were now wholesomely erased as the turbulent draught of breeze swept by, The waves spasmodically swirling towards the skies all throughout the evening; now appeared as placid as the singing angel; when the storm and ferocious cyclone had totally dissipated, The tongue which was raring to shout deafeningly in open space; now resembled the dying insect; after countless hours of giving speech, The shock of hair which was once as black as oil trapped within the belly of earth; now appeared as snow white as the man who sat astoundingly near to his grave, The pristine air of the snow clad slopes which was stupendously clean and enchanting as the cows grazed; now transited into plumes of treacherous black smoke; as the aftermath of war took its gory toll, The vegetables which were fresh and glowing with sparkling health as I hoisted them from the stores; now transformed into soggy and squalid as I rang the doorbell; utterly exhausted and entered home, The time which seemed to tick faster than light during examinations; now appeared to be crawling slower than the tortoise as the summer holidays descended by, The ape man who once could conquer invincible heights with raw muscle and unprecedented power bulging from under his shirt; now seemed to be unable to even lift a finger; as the decades unveiled in quick succession, The candle which was burning inexorably; illuminating every cranny of the room with its profound shine; now extinguished in entirety with a single kiss of the autumn wind, The heart which throbbed violently after witnessing the girl of its dreams for the first time; now reduced its intensity a whisker; after spending marathon times together, But my love for her got all the more stronger as each second unfurled into a minute; as each minute sped into an hour; as each day evolved into a week; as each year evolved into a decade; and no matter how old I became; how frigid the conglomerate of bones in my body converted; I loved her more than I loved her when she first met me; I loved her more than I ever did in my passionate dreams; I loved her more than I had loved her anytime before; this very moment when I was dying today.

[ecotone99]

[HR] Carnivore

Carnivore

Nairobi, Kenya, 1870 A.D.

Journal of Matthis Lefavre.

May 21st, First Entry.

Today marks the first day of the hunt. The hunt begins when the first signs of the hunted are discovered. A single footprint, a few broken branches, a fresh kill. Most of the time, very subtle signs that could be completely overlooked by the untrained eye. Although in this particular case, it was anything but subtle. Even now, as I write this, I still struggle to find the words to describe it in this journal. Only one word comes to mind when I think about what I came across that day, carnage. I tightened my grip on the.577 Black Powder Express rifle I had pressed firmly against my shoulder and slowly took in my surroundings.

Approximately 10 meters in front of me lie the mangled form of a large animal, from what I could make of it appeared to be of an adult lioness. Its carcass was crushed into the bloodstained soil, claws still fully extended as it most likely died fighting for its life. The wounds were consistent with many other cases of the hunted kind but with one unique and sadistic difference. Its entire head was ripped from its carcass.

As I moved past the lioness, I noticed that this unfortunate creature was not the only one to suffer such a fate. Strewn across the African soil lie the rest of the pride. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I heard a deep moan from the uprooted tree in the center of the killing field. I slowly made my way toward the source of the noise, rifle held firmly at eye level. When I reached its source, I was surprised to see none other than the king of the pride. The once-mighty creature lay there almost motionless, its great maned head resting on its paws, his wounds deep and his eyes full of pain and fear.

I stood above him and looked upon the once mighty ruler of the African planes, whose roar struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it, who in a matter of seconds was reduced to nothing more than a scared injured cub. My hunt was not for lions that day, otherwise, I would have spared him, yet to leave him alone in that state, to die a slow death while waiting for the pain to end would have been beyond unforgivable. I gave the creature a swift and honorable death with a single slug between the eyes. The loud bang reverberated across the dry plains as birds from nearby trees took to the sky. Then all was silent. All but a single roaring trumpet in the distance.

I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice as I realized that I had just heard the call of what the local villagers called Shetani Tembo. The distant sound had only come from several kilometers away. My human instincts wanted nothing more than to flee that killing field, away from the monster whom slain dozens of villagers and hunters leaving their crushed headless corpses to rot in the hot African sun. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, as I walked toward the source of the noise I took one last look at the male lion. The old king is dead, long live the new king. The hunt was on.

May 22nd, Second day of the hunt.

My name is Matthis Lefavre, born in Burges, Belgium to Alan and Eloise Lefavre. Although I grew up the son of a prominent banker, I never joined the family business. Instead, I enlisted into the military and spent most of my life stationed in the Garrison in the 4th regiment of the French Foreign Legion. It was there in the deserts of the Sahara where my passion for the hunt began.

Years after my service, I served as a guide to wealthy European clients traveling to various places on the vast continent of Africa. Some traders, some tourists, some missionaries and other big game hunters such as myself. It was just a few weeks ago that I received a telegraph about a rogue bull elephant that has been attacking villages in the eastern parts of Kenya just off of the Tanzanian colonies. Reports of entire hunting parties going missing and villages being attacked as women and children flee into the night as they watch the large dark figure trample their huts into the ground in its primal rampage.

Although elephant attacks are rare, they are not unheard of in these parts. On occasion, a wounded elephant will go on a rampage and attack humans and other animals alike and hunting parties will be sent out to euthanize the creature before more damage is done. One thing though did stand out in the case of this creature. It took the heads of its crushed victims and was found on multiple occasions feeding on cattle and humans alike. Given the fact that all elephants are herbivores, this news was most unusual and unsettling. Perhaps some rare disease befell the creature causing it to go mad such as victims of rabies do cause it to lash out and attack anything that moved. To feed on another living creature like an average carnivore had never been recorded in any historical documents anywhere in Europe.

The local tribes’ men called it “Shetani Tembo”. The men of the colonies referred to it as the “Moving Mountain”, or “Chasseur Noir”. The shamans and elders believed it to be possessed by dark spirits which gave it its hunger for flesh and thirst for blood. Even though its sightings were frequent, its appearance remained much to speculation as it only attacked at night and was never seen in broad daylight. Although several descriptions remained consistent. Large tusks that almost touched the ground, darker skin tone, and bulging eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul.

We made camp that night roughly 6 miles from where we found its last kill. As the others slept, I took first watch. The night was filled with sounds of insects and creatures of the night. The mosquitos were so bad that the locals among our hunting party smeared mud across their faces and the backs of their hands to prevent them from being bitten. The youngest of our party a young Frenchmen named Alexandre tossed and turned to swat at his face from time to time as he slept closest to the flames in an attempt to deter the ravenous winged fiends.

I sat rigid back facing the flames of our campfire. A trick I learned in the legion is to never look directly into the flames of a campfire so that your eyes will not adjust to its light but stay tuned to your dark surroundings. Soon afterward I was relieved from my watch from my long-time friend Absko, a local tracker and ingenious hunter who accompanied me on many hunts during my time in Africa. I slept on the ground that night with one hand resting on the butt of my rifle. Ready for anything that may come our way in the night.

May 23rd, Third day of the hunt

I awoke with a start after being awakened by a firm hand being placed on my shoulder. As I took in my surroundings, I saw Absko standing above me. I sat up as I began to recollect my dreams last night.

In my dream, I was once again standing in the killing field where we found the lions. The ground still soaked with blood and the sky glowing red as the sun was setting. I looked around me as to my horror the slaughtered lions were no longer lying prone but standing up surrounding me. Their heads still missing their limbs still contorted into unnatural angles as they all slowly shambled towards me.

I looked in horror as the male lion stood by its tree watching me not with the eyes of a beast but the eyes of a man. Its human-like expression was that of absolute terror. I slowly backed away as something caught my eye in the distance. I shimmering dark shape of a man shrouded in darkness stood far away watching me, its body stood tall and thin, unlike any man I had seen before.

My focus was then directed to the male lion as it suddenly appeared right in front of me, its human eyes bore deep into mine as it uttered a single phrase, “The Night Has Come”. Just as the sun disappeared in the horizon I felt the earth shake as heavy footsteps approached in rapid succession and a deafening trumpet sounded from right behind me and I was struck from behind.

It was after I was struck that I was awakened. I did not tell Absko about this dream nor did I mention it to anyone else. Judging by the forlorn looks on everyone else’s faces I doubted I was the only one who had a fitful sleep that night. We pressed on throughout the day tracking the great beast. Its trail was not hard to miss as entire trees were found uprooted and boulders the size of horses were found overturned in its wake. There was also the presence of dark bloodstains left behind in its tracks, we could not determine if it came from the great beast itself or its most recent kill. Still, we pressed on until nightfall.

We made camp in the clearing of a thick underbrush as to be the least likely place to be attacked by a bull elephant. There were 8 of us altogether, 3 local African tribesmen including Absko, and 5 Europeans including myself. The young Alexandre. A stout and burly Dutchman named Bram who worked as a doctor in one of the nearby colonies. A fellow ex legionnaire named Micheal, and an elderly roman catholic missionary from Portugal whom we called Father Acosta.

Given the rumors of this beast’s origin being of the spiritual nature, he was assigned to our party to give spiritual aid if needed. Most of us were reluctant to take him along given his age and clerical status but to our astonishment, the Elderly Priest not only held his own but appeared barely winded on even the longest stretches of our incursions. He jokingly remarked afterward just because he spent the majority of his time behind a pulpit doesn’t mean he couldn’t out-trek any of us younger men. It was after this that he gained our respect.

It was Bram that took the first watch that night; I stayed awake with him for most of his watch, chatting briefly about our recent findings. “It’s a strange thing really,”, he muttered under his breath in his thickly accented French. “To act in this way, blindly attacking anything that stands in its path is unlike any case I have ever heard of”. I agreed solemnly, what we were going against was unlike anything I have ever heard of during my time in this contentment. Even in even in local legends.

It was then I noticed that unlike last night not a single sound could be heard, not even the mosquitos were found which admittingly is a blessing in disguise. I slept that night with my trusty rifle under my arm only to be greeted by the same dream, the only difference was the black figure of the tall man was much closer than it was before, and the footsteps of the beast seemed to plod consistently throughout the dream, as if “Shetani Tembo” himself stood over my sleeping figure his dark truck slowly reaching for my head.

May 24th, Fourth Day of the Hunt

I awoke again at the same point of the dream as the words once again escape the dead lion’s jaws “The Night Has Come”. As I looked around, I noticed that every member of the party lay in sleep as well. Bodies twisting and turning as they most likely had similar dreams as well. It was then that I noticed that the spot where Micheal slept was empty as the ex-legionnaire was nowhere to be found.

His rifle which never left his hands since the first day of the hunt lay there untouched. I shouted to alert our party as stood abruptly to their feet. “Who was on the last watch last night?” I demanded in anger. Absko motioned his head to the still sleeping form of Alexandre. I woke him up with a swift kick to the ribs. He awoke with a yelp and struggled to stand to his feet. I lifted him by the front of his sweat-stained shirt and yelled, “Where is Micheal”? “I don’t know”, He stammered in a panic. He was right there a second ago. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m sorry”. I shoved him back and roughly tossed his rifle into his arms. “You, Absko and Bram follow me, everyone else starts packing up camp.”

Not waiting for a reply, I stormed off into the bushes in search of our missing member. The others followed quickly behind. It was not long before we found him, or at least what remained of him. We found his body in a tree, his crumpled form barely recognizable and a steady stream of blood leaked from his neck where his head should have been. “Fils de pute” Bram cursed under his breath as he took in the sight.

Alexandre immediately doubled over and began to vomit profusely at the horrible sight. Absko just stood there his dark eyes never leaving the sight. It was him and myself who were given the task of bringing Micheal lifeless body from the tree and giving him a decent funeral. Father Acosta said a brief prayer and read a brief passage from his Bible. “To everything, there is a season. And a time to every purpose under heaven, a time to be born and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to harvest; a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break down and a time to build up; a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to love and a time to cast away; a time for war and a for and a time of peace…”

We trekked on as the trees began to become less frequent, and the land soon gave way into a vast and dusty planes. It appeared that not much grew here, even the few trees that remained were scarce and in different states of decay. Not even vultures hung on their branches as we moved onwards following the deep footprints of our great beast.

It was close, every once in a while the sound of distant trumpeting could be heard. Every single time it would bring a chill every one of us and Father Acosta would cross himself and mutter a brief prayer in Latin. We were forced to make camp that night out in the open, leaving us feeling exposed. We decided that we should take watch in twos to keep each other awake in the event one of us gave into slumber.

I sat there with Absko, the two of us sat facing away from each other back to back as to prevent either of us from becoming flanked as we had done many nights before during our many other hunts. Not a word was spoken between us as we sat their eyes trained on our surroundings. Nothing was ever needed to be said between us. We have known each other for years, and knew everything about each other.

He knew about my time served with the legion, and my family back home in Belgium. I knew of his wife and daughters back in his home village and how he carried a necklace made from animal bones and colorful stones wherever he went as it was a gift from them after he left to become a guide many years ago. He and I understood each other and respect that allowed us to work together effectively almost without uttering a single word. Together we had hunted down and killed countless dangerous animals varying from man-eating lions to rogue rhinoceroses.

There was something different that night as I no longer felt the sense of security that I usually did with his imposing figure seated behind me. With everything I had seen over the past few days, I felt a real sense of dread creeping into my mind as a brief tremor shook the ground as something large moved into the distance. We were getting closer than ever, and it would only be a matter of time before we would meet “Shetani Tembo” himself.

May 25th, Fifth day of the hunt.

That night my dream was just like it was before. The setting sun, the headless lions, the dark figure in the distance standing even closer than before. This time though it wasn’t the lion who spoke to me, it was the figure of Michel hanging from the tree his head now firmly in place eyes looking directly into mine as the ground shook behind me. “The Night Has Come”.

an angry shout from Absko awakened me. He stood there pacing looking around him in anger and shouting in his tribal tongue. I looked anxiously around me as I noticed our two other African guides were missing, as well as a generous portion of our food and water.

“I should have known this would happen, ” Absko shouted angrily. “Ever since last night, they have been acting suspicious. I knew by the look in their eyes they were cowards but I never once saw the eyes of a thief.” “Fear can make even the strongest men do desperate things,” said Father Acosta, causing me to look wearily at Alexandre who sat there dumbfounded. “Should we run the rascals down?” asked Bram, who instinctively slid a slug into his rifle.

“No , ” I replied firmly. “There is no time, we gather the rest of our supplies and continue the hunt”. Everyone began to comply as we packed up our camp and began to move on. Closer to our target, closer to the monster.

As the hours drew by, we came across what looked to be the dung of an elephant. Absko knelt and let his hand hover over it. “It is still warm,” he said in his usual monotone voice, “that means the beast is close”. A loud trumpet was then heard in the distance. As I listened to the sound, I noticed that it sounded very different from any elephant I had ever heard. It was almost like a mixture of a trumpet and a deep angry roar at the same time. The sound echoed across the planes as something that caught my eye in the distance.

There standing far away was a large dark figure making its way into what appeared to be a canyon which I estimated was a day’s journey away from where we stood. “Merde Merde MERDE”! I heard Alexandre shout as I saw his stagger back and fall onto his backside in shock. I follow his gaze to the droppings as what appeared to be a portion of a human skull grinned out of the pile of elephant feces. There was no denying it. This murderous beast not only removed the heads from the bodies of its prey but devoured them as well.

We made camp on the outskirts of the canyon as Father Acosta and Bram took the first watch. The two conversed while the Dutchman tended to a gash that the priest received on forearm after stumbling over one of the many rocky crevices. “So do you think this beast could be possessed by the devil himself?” Bram asked in a hushed voice. “It is very possible,” Acosta said, he winced as the Doctor roughly tightened the cloth over the open wound. “I don’t believe it is the devil himself but dark forces are certainly at work in this land”.

He inspected the Doctor’s work thoughtfully and then once again picked up Michael's rifle, whom he now carried as if it were his own. “The father of Evil is described in scripture as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour”. He nodded grimly in the entrance's direction to the rocky passage. “Sound familiar”?

Bram nodded while twisting a stone necklace he wore around his neck. “I’m not exactly sure why an alleged herbivore would suddenly take to eating meat.” He said. “It could be pathological or related to the animal’s nutritional deficiencies in salt, iron or protein.” “Either way,” said the Priest, “These are dark times, and it is in those times where men need to stick together, a chord of one strand is easily broken but a chord of multiple strands is not.” Bram smiled as the Priest’s quote of scripture seemed to have some positive effect on his mood.

That all changed when a bellowing roar sounded from the entrance of the canyon. I immediately stood to my feet and aimed at the darkness. We all stood in a circle facing the darkness, rifles in hands, bodies ridged, eyes unblinking. The horrible trumpeting roar came again as a sudden gust of wind smothered the embers of our fire and we were suddenly shrouded in darkness. The night was silent and we could hear nothing but our heavy breaths. It was then that the slow but steady sound of footsteps began to move in our direction.

“The beast is heading right for us,” Bram said with fear in his voice. “Stand firm” I commanded the group, “If we stand together we can make it out of alive”. The ground shook as the footsteps began to get closer and closer. “Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu” Alexandre began to shout. “Be quiet!” I said in a hushed tone. “He knows where we are, Mon Dieu, I don’t want to die” He shouted as a deafening roar pierced the night.

Alexandre suddenly broke off from his position and began to run off into the night. “Stop you fool” Acosta shouted as he began to run after him. Absko reached out and grabbed the priest by the shoulder. “There is nothing we can do for him now,” he said, “He made his choice”. The heavy footsteps began to pick up speed as they followed in the direction of the fleeing Frenchman.

I aimed and fired into its direction as the night was suddenly lit up for a split second as the muzzle flashed. We saw the beast, for only a moment and the sight of it caused every muscle in my body to tense up. It was massive, from head to toe, its tusks long and pointed forwards, its leathery dark skin was a myriad of scar tissue from large claw marks to singular bullet wounds. The shafts of several spears were also seen still protruding from the great beasts hide.

The great footsteps continued with great speed as the beast continued to give chase. We listened in terror as the young man began to scream as the great beast eventually caught up to him. I quickly loaded my rifle as fast as I could as the screams intensified. Then just like that, the distant screams were suddenly cut short as the night was once again made silent as the grave. “We can’t stay in the open like this, ” whispered Absko. “Agreed” I replied, “We can’t stay here”.

A deep throaty roar then broke the silence as the heavy footsteps began to move back in our direction. “Quickly” I shouted, “Into the canyon”. Then abandoning the remainder of our supplies, we broke off in a sprint to the rocky outcropping. The footsteps thundered after us gaining speed.

We all made our way through the entrance as we blindly fumbled over the rocky terrain. The charging elephant did not slow down we heard the sound rocks crushing under its heavy feet as it made its way through the entrance. I then heard a surprised shout as I saw the figure of Father Acosta crumple to the ground, having lost his footing he now struggled to get back to his feet. “Matthis, Absko cover me” shouted Bram as he turned around and began to make his way to our fallen comrade. I once again raised my rifle and aimed in the direction of the footsteps. The resounding boom rattled my eardrums as the sound of the gunshot reverberated off of the stone walls of the passage. Once again I caught a glimpse of the beast, this time I knew for sure that I had hit my mark.

It bellowed in pain as I knelt to begin to reload my rifle. Behind me, Absko fired another slug in the direction of the creature. Having been paying attention to the location of the beast after my muzzle flash, his slug also hit its mark. The gigantic Bull Elephant just kept coming. Bram now had Father Acosta’s arm thrown over his shoulder and was assisting the old priest who was limping badly.

“They are never going to make it unless we draw the beast away from them” Shouted Absko. As he said this my mind immediately went to the flare gun, I kept in my pocket. I reached for it and pulled back the hammer. I made aim for the threshold between our two comrades and the charging elephant and pulled the trigger. The light flashed so bright I had to blink several times before I was able to see again.

It flew over Bram’s shoulder and bounced across the ground behind him. It was then for the first time that I fully saw the beast with my own eyes. It slowed to a stop, its bulging eyes looking at the strange glowing object in front of its face. Its long trunk curiously twitched in-between its long, freshly bloodstained tusks. Its shadow behind it in the flickering light danced across the rocky walls making the already massive beast look even more physically imposing.

Absko then shook me out of my daze. I looked behind me with a start and noticed that Bram and Father Acosta had made their way past us and were running toward the opening of what appeared to be a large cavern. Before I made my way back, I looked one last time into the eyes of the beast. I saw a hunger in those eyes unlike I had ever seen even in the eyes of the fiercest of carnivores.

I then made my hasty retreat to the cave’s entrance. Safe from the reach of the monstrosity behind us. None of us slept that night.

May 26th, Sixth day of the hunt.

As the light began to pour into the entrance of the cave, we slowly made our way outside. With rifles firmly pressed to our shoulders, we quickly scanned our surroundings. The beast was nowhere in sight.

“We were foolish to follow the beast this far” Absko said. “It knew we were coming, it wanted us to follow it here”. “We fell right into its trap” Bram muttered darkly as he tended to Father Acostas swollen ankle. Absko, and I scouted ahead to see if the coast was clear at the entrance of the canyon We were greeted by none other than the beast itself. It sat there almost motionless at the entrance as if waiting for us to dash for the exit.

We slowly made our retreat back to the cave entrance and updated the others of our findings. “Things got us cornered like a rat,” I said grimly. “Running away or sneaking past is not an option.” Father Acosta spoke up. “All of our food and water was left at the camp”.

We sat there pondering in silence for a minute. “We have no choice, we have at least 6 hours left of daylight, when night falls that is when the great beast will make his move.” I barked. “To make it out of here alive, we need to make a stand.”

May 27th, Seventh day of the hunt.

After spending the day preparing for our last stand, the four of us took shifts sleeping and keeping watch. For most of us, it had been 48 hours since the last time we slept so we needed to gather as much strength as we could. I offered to take the first watch but Absko insisted that I get some rest.

As fatigue and exhaustion eventually overtook me, I found myself, like every other night standing by that same tree. The headless lions, the blood-red sky, the male lion standing before me. This time was different though. Hanging from the tree were the crushed and headless bodies of the other members of the party. Bram, Father Acosta, Micheal, Even young Alexandre. My eyes darted back to where the lions were standing only to find that the creatures had vanished. The tall shrouded figure stood right before at an arm's length away. Its eyes the same sad eyes of the lion had in previous dreams. Those eyes, full of pain. Full of sadness. The earth began to shake as “Shetani Tembos familiar trumpet roared behind me.

As I opened my eyes, I found myself face to face with Absko he held a finger to his lips without making a sound. We both crouched behind a stone and looked into the darkness. Just ahead was the great demon elephant making its way through the valley. Its tusks glinted in the moonlight, its trunk curiously feeling among the stones. “Wake the others and get into position”. I whispered as Absko slipped away into the night.

Eventually, one after the other, the remaining three members of our hunting party gave their signals that they were in position. Father Acosta at the entrance of the cave, Absko and Bram on a ledge near the top of the rocky crevice, and I positioned at ground level with the beast. I aimed the lumbering bulk; it was too far away to make a decent shot. The .577 Black Powder Express could drop a full-grown elephant in its tracks, but at this distance in the dark, it was not guaranteed. I looked over to Father Acosta who also had the beast in his sights. He was in a much better position to take the shot. The great mass than stopped in its track, the sound it its trunk snuffing loudly and it began to move into the priest’s direction. Things were all going according to plan.

A loud boom resonated across the valley as Father Acosta’s muzzle flashed. The beast lurched forward not even slowing for a second toward the priest who had turned and ran making his way to the entrance of the cave. Once the beast reached the mouth of the cave and the priest was out of range, Bram and Absko made their move.

A large log sat above the cave entrance wedged against a pile of boulders we spent most of the day piling against it. Both men began to roll a large boulder intended to knock the log out from underneath, letting loose the flurry of stones upon the great beast. The boulder let loose, crashing hard against the log, but much to my horror, the log didn’t budge. A sharp cry then broke out as the elephant began to drag Father Acosta out of the cave with its great serpent-like trunk.

I cursed under my breath. This was not part of the plan. The stubborn priest’s previous injuries must have been more of a handicap than he let on. I watched in horror as Father Acosta reached out desperately grasping at anything he could to hold on to. At the rate, he was being dragged I have no doubt his fingers were being torn to the bone. Just then another gunshot broke out.

I looked up to see Bram standing at the edge of the cliff, kneeling to load another slug into his rifle. The elephant jolted in pain and and effortlessly tossed the priest against the rocky wall. Just then a loud crack broke out as the log suddenly gave way. Bram still knelt after just finishing loading his rifle as the boulders began to bounce in his direction. By the time he looked up, it was already too late.

A large slab hit him in his midsection and he was sent spiraling off of the cliffs face. A large dust cloud was kicked up as the large boulders crashed down upon the beast. The elephant cried out in a mix of anger and surprise, and he was pelted over again by the falling stones. As the dust settled, my heart began to race as I desperately began to scan the rubble in search of my friends. Bram lay face down just at the mouth of the cave, but there were no signs of Absko nor the priest.

Just then slowly the rocks began to fall away as the great beast shook himself free of the fallen stones and began to move toward the fallen doctor. Bram sat up groggily and began to lift his rifle, but the beast was already upon him. With a great swipe from its trunk, it knocked Bram back a few feet; the rifle flew from his grasp.

I watched in terror, wanting desperately to leave my post and rush to my friend’s aid but there was nothing I could do. I was too far away to make a decent shot. All I could do was watch as the beast lifted one of his large legs and with a heavy stomp, snuffed the life out of the Dutchmen. Bram did not scream as the others did; Instead ,he sat there staring the beast in the eye with a look of defiance. Courageous from the beginning to the end.

It was then the beast looked in my direction, seeing me standing in the open with almost no cover. It reared up on its hind legs trumpeting loudly as if ushering a challenge. I just stood there, still as a corpse and as silent as the grave. The ground shook as it charged in my direction. Head low, tusks pointed forward and ears flapping like the sales of a ship in the wind.

Just a few steps closer and this beast would be in range, I aimed with my rifle and aimed right between the tusks. The beast let out a low growl as it quickly closed the threshold between the two of us. I didn’t take the shot. Not having enough time to reload or take cover, I knew that this had to be the killing blow. Only one of us would walk away from this fight tonight, the man or the beast.

Just as the beast was only several meters away from me a bright red light flashed from behind us as Absko took fired the last remaining flair from his spot on the cliff lighting up the entire canyon in a red glow. I could see the beast now clear as day, Its dark scarred flesh, its blood-stained tusk, its long serpentine trunk and its dark bulging eyes that bore into me like knives. It reminded me of my dream that very first night, the earth-shaking, the blood-red sky, the billowing trumpet. Only this time, I stood facing the beast head-on. I squeezed the trigger.

The slug bore deep into the elephant’s skull as the great beast let out a pained cry. Its two front legs gave way as the beast fell to the ground. I dove to the side as the fallen monster skidded to a stop tusks merely inches from my exposed chest. I stood to my feet and took in the whole sight. The beast lay still, its only movement coming from its heaving chest as it took its final breaths. Its trunk moved lazily across the ground like a dying snake and its eyes slowly moved to where I was standing.

I stared in wonder as I noticed the eyes were different now, it was not hatred in the eyes of the beast, nor anger or hunger, but relief. The beast took its last breath and just like that, the great Satani Tembo was dead.

June 1st, Final entry.

The following is what took place after the last day of the hunt.

The next morning that followed our last stand, we took the time to examine the body of the great beast. To our surprise, what we thought was just an average overgrown bull elephant seemed to be everything but average. At a closer glance in broad daylight, our party discovered strange carvings in its giant tusks and the flesh around its eyes. There were strange markings also cut into the flesh of its feet as well.

Absko and Father Acosta both confirmed that these markings were symbols of dark power and could very well be the work of a powerful witch doctor. Absko refused to translate the strange symbols for us and Father Acosta strongly insisted that we burn the body to ensure no dark forces would be able to use its vessel again. We burned the beast that same day saving nothing but its tail to bring to the village elders as proof of its demise.

We buried the remains of Bram at the entrance of the cave with all of his belongings. Father Acosta kept the bone necklace the doctor always wore and hung it next to the cross that hung over his heart. He told us it was given as a gift to the doctor by one of the many people whose lives he saved from sickness and disease. Each stone represented a child in that village who would not be alive if it were not for him. The priest wore that necklace until the end of his days to remember the man who gave his life so that we may live on.

Absko returned to his home village, claiming that it was time for him to return to his wife and daughters. With the great beast gone he could rest easy knowing that his loved ones were safe. I bid my friend farewell, and he left without a word. No words needed to be spoken between us, we both knew that this would not be the last we would see of each other. As long as there were beasts that hungered for human flesh and dark forces still unknown to man, the hunt was never truly over.

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