"I am Rey, this is the Heavens, and I must reach Hell before the elders wake up." Covered in mud from head to toe, the small figure whispered to the wind the reason why he kept himself awake.
At the edge of some remote region known to very few living beings, beneath the cold and somber mantle of an eternal night, there was a little boy who had kept running without stopping. It wasn't as if there were many children wandering aimlessly along the borders of Paradise; in fact, he was one of three, and the only one who remained in constant motion when he was supposed to be asleep.
The adults had spoken of the place as "the Ever-Changing Forest," a site where no moon ever peeked out and no small creature like frogs or insects sang. There, constant change reigned. The screams of trees splintering against each other. Ferocious beasts roaming in search of food. Bottomless cliffs at every corner. Roots and branches as sharp as knives. Dancing lights that rose and fell. Mud and rotting leaves. Icy gusts of wind that struck like lightning. Horrifying shapes of corpses and dismembered bones. And Death itself, hooded and wandering.
Rey was so deep in the forest that he believed not even all the adults together could find him or follow his trail—him or his companion. His master's instructions had never truly moved him, and although they still echoed in his head, he laughed at them because they seemed absurd. However, the mud of the thick forest of giant trees was growing deeper, and the lights that helped him avoid dangerous situations were fading. Little by little, the place began to resemble a swamp of red sludge that made it harder for the boy to move forward.
Amid dangers and all the horrible ways he could die if he wasn't careful enough, Rey reached a point where he had no choice but to stop. Parting his cracked lips, he stuck out his tongue and opened his mouth as wide as he could.
He needed to catch his breath if he intended to keep running. The sharp eyes, lit by the whiteness of an infinite Pythagorean star that ringed his pupils and adapted to their dilated size, stopped seeing through the gloom. With the floating lights going out and darkness closing in, the boy had more than enough reasons to feel terror. He knew where he was going, but not where he was. He could not go back the way he had come, even if he tried. Floating rocks struck him, whether he ran into them or they fell on his head without warning. One wrong step meant plunging into a bottomless pit. Getting too close to a tree would earn him another wound. Some beast—one he might have seen if he could—could be stalking him cautiously, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.
Yet even with all that, he did not feel afraid, not in the slightest. He said:
"I am not in the forest; the forest is with me. I don't feel lost if I have a goal. I don't need to see if I have a friend who can be my eyes. Why worry about the noises if they can't hurt me? And for my exhaustion, it's enough to stop and catch my breath," like someone who believed he could do anything.
Over time, Rey was forced to slow down and rest more often. The fruitless search made him so frustrated that he failed to notice he was running with far more weight than his body truly had.
"I, who can do anything—am I being led in circles?" he wondered, a bit worried.
Focusing his attention on his companion, Rey was ignoring the enormous cart he was dragging by his neck and the gigantic boulder he carried on his back.
The cart he hauled bore the presence of the trees, the mud, rocks, the darkness, and the exhaustion of his body, while the imposing solidity of the boulder was almost at the point of crushing him. But he could not realize this, nor see or touch either of those two objects, because they were as real as his thoughts. To him, thoughts, worries, problems, stress, and negative ideas were not supposed to make his path harder in the slightest. However, they were the ones responsible for the mantra "I must reach Hell… before the elders wake up…"—which Rey repeated as his driving force—starting to lose its shape and meaning until it became empty, hollow, and without purpose.
In time, the words spoken by the elders proceeded to fill that space in the boy's mind, until he could no longer stop thinking about the accusing voice that repeated the word "De-Bastador!" in his head, or about the edge of an immense sword cutting his neck and bringing death.
You could say that all those words, combined with memories of a not-so-distant past, were the main reason why Rey was running aimlessly through the endless forest that formed the limits of Paradise within Hell.
"He named me Rey. But they called me 'monster with an unreadable heart.' Defective, a shell full of rage, without rationality, tactics, or strategy. A creature for whom only the pleasure of satiating himself will keep him alive. 'He will become a danger, a De-Bastador capable of wiping out everything around him,' they said. I saw unease in their eyes; in my father's eyes I saw he was disappointed. I must reach Hell, but… how much longer do I have to keep running?"
His trembling knees could no longer bear the weight of the great boulder on his back and gave way into the sludge; his throat could not free itself from the rope choking him, and he could barely breathe anymore.
"Heroclades wasn't wrong… This mud is getting deeper, and I can hardly go on. If my strength isn't enough…" Catching his breath again, he stood back up and looked toward where he believed his companion was. "When reasoning is the only thing left in this body, maybe I'll get farther. Surrender is not an option for a warrior." The boy spoke out loud: "If we are not to find a way out, maybe… finding a shelter is a good idea."
Relying on a strained sound forced through his closed mouth, the small feline answered Rey's comment with a faint affirmation. Exhausted and on the verge of collapse, the one who could see in the dark had kept himself at the front, leaping from one floating rock to another to avoid having to swim through the mud. He used his tail to pull along the hand of the boy who could not see.
The friend Rey had been relying on to move forward through the darkness was a guardian pup of Paradise. He had met him alongside his master on the way to the training grounds on the very first day.
In the light of the magical realm, the guardians of Paradise stood splendidly on four legs, which hid fearsome claws that came out at will. Their fur was white with black stripes running along their backs down to their tails, with protruding teeth, yellow eyes, long whiskers, and pointed ears. On all fours, an adult was as large as a person. But the pup barely reached Rey's waist. He was dirty, his eyes looked tired, and his ears drooped. He was not as skinny as the white-eyed boy, since Rey had given him all the food he had.
He walked and walked. The moment that had been worrying the boy so much finally became evident. Fatigue and muscle pain turned into a stiffness that forced him to stop once more. Placing his hands on his knees and bending his body forward, Rey let go of the tail he was holding, and with a bitter click of his tongue, he understood he had lost the fight against the sensations in his body. Losing and giving up meant the same thing to him. But how could he move forward if, even when his mind insisted, his muscles and strength refused to respond? Rey trembled like a leaf about to fall, yet his gaze stayed steady, intent on moving forward even if he had to crawl with his hands.
No matter how hard he tried, even with all the times he had stretched his life to the very edge of death, he could not go any farther.
Rey was forced to admit defeat and stop trying, something that would bring him no results. He did not intend to blame the little animal, since he himself could not have done it any better.
"I can't even see—would I have found the way out on my own?… No. Now I'm the one who lacks the strength to make up for what I don't know."
Sinking into the sludge, he had no choice but to kneel and lean on a nearby rock.
"Heroclades was right. I must go back and keep training. I'm still too weak to find an escape. But…" Rey lifted his head. "If I have to stay among the elders, then at the very least I must arm myself with whatever is necessary to fend for myself and survive among them."
In his arrogance, he refused to take the situation as a defeat, and instead interpreted it as an opportunity to learn, to become better:
"But how?"
The guardian pup of Paradise, seeing the boy's behavior, looked around. Mouth open and tongue hanging out, even though he was well fed, he had still been forcing himself to move the parts of his body that allowed him to go on. The feline approached the rock the boy was leaning on and, after licking his hand, let out a squeal in his own language.
Rey did not understand the sound, but he at least had an idea of what it meant. Once again ignoring everything he was carrying—his extreme exhaustion and the lack of energy flooding him—he stood up and let himself be guided.
After a few jumps, the feline led his companion to the hollow trunk of a tree.
Rey reached out with his hand and touched what formed the entrance to a safe place and said to himself:
"To survive… it's better if I stay somewhere safe. At least until I recover…"
The boy, almost skin and bones, made a crucial decision: to change the order of his priorities and, with that, to temporarily abandon his search and remain in the cave his companion had found, so he could take refuge from the viscous muck and allow his worn-out body to recover.
Rey breathed like someone who was beginning to understand that "deducing," reasoning, and thinking would be more useful than constantly testing his physical limits. A good ability to employ logic, depending on what the situation demanded, would be of vital importance for his survival—just as, in that moment, he was realizing that by readjusting his priorities, he was making himself better.
Inside the cave, Rey believed that the sticky, unstable ground—shifting between solid and liquid—had a life of its own. That it was like a sleeping giant who had only just awakened, ravenous.
Wanting to rid himself of the mud, sweat, and blood that covered his body, the boy shook himself again and again, even though it wasn't very effective, so he could move deeper inside, where the dampness could not reach him. It was the only place around that could offer safety to him and to his inseparable furry companion, who efficiently shook the water from his coat and lay down on the ground to satisfy the demands of his heaving lungs.
The boy began to understand that even if he felt safe from everything beyond their new shelter, that did not mean he was safe from what he could feel. He had stopped running; he had stopped the very activity that had worn him down so much until then, yet he still felt defeated. He sensed a massive weight on his shoulders and a thick rope around his neck—two forces that would not let him stay on his feet. "I need to lie down," he thought. Extreme exhaustion was stalking him. His own body had him cornered and he did not understand why. Once he lay on the rough ground made of roots, Rey felt a sensation approaching that promised to bring even more darkness, neglect, and weakness.
"Something else is happening out there," he told himself, alarmed, after some time had passed and the rain began to fall. "I hear it falling from above. Running down every surface. Reaching the ground and wanting to keep going. Ready to end up being swallowed by the blanket of dust and fallen leaves."
He could not see, nor did he know what rain was. He could only listen and analyze.
"The brittle rocks that usually rise into the air, the ones I always smashed my forehead against while I ran blind, are being swallowed by the ground, I'm sure of it. The ground is dangerous. You can't trust it when it's awake. I noticed in time. Here I'm fine, it's safe. Yes, the earth here is still asleep and it's not sticky like the one outside. As long as I have this place, I don't have to keep moving forward until I get my strength back. Even if it is very slow and I am very fast. There's no need to take risks. Running makes me want to stop, it makes me weak, makes me short of breath. It wears me out…"
Time went by.
"I have shelter, but no food. Maybe that's why I'm not getting my strength back? The water keeps falling. It doesn't give up. But no matter how much my stomach growls, it's better to keep waiting, to wait for the earth to fall asleep… I could have stayed inside the tent Heroclades made, even if it meant sharing the bed with him. Still, sleeping well and safely won't make me strong enough to solve my other problem: Mother, Father, and the rest. Yes, them, who now sleep, but just as the water woke the earth, the light will wake them, and then they'll come for me, wherever I am. As long as it's inside this circle… I think… Maybe this is the best time to close my eyes, to give in. To maybe sleep the way they do. To rest for a while, for a moment; my comrade is also lying at the entrance. He can see and watch over me, entertain himself by looking at the falling water. I, on the other hand, see nothing but black, whether I squeeze my eyes shut or open them as wide as I can. Everything is dark to me… I wonder if Heroclades knew that maybe not being able to see would keep me from escaping."
Inside the cave, not only the root-woven floor or the presence of his furry companion made the boy feel safe; between his bruised fingers, the beast-child held an instrument he had crafted with his own hands and teeth. A rustic spear made of wood and the spiraled horn he had found in the dead skull of a massive animal which, when alive, had run as fast as the wind on its long legs. Rey had also spent a good portion of his time up in a tree. He had learned, firsthand, how one of those herb-eating creatures could rival the claws and teeth of the smaller meat-eaters. All thanks to that long horn on its forehead and its aggressive behavior when cornered. It always pointed the horn at the enemy and then ran away.
"I don't know what sleep is, or how it feels, or how it could benefit me. I've only just understood one of the many factors that are so fundamental to living. But I, who have never slept, can remember the first time I opened my eyes. It's not that I remember how to wake up…"
Silence. Then more doubts, each one adding to the weight of the stone he carried on his shoulders.
"And if maybe I never wake up… would that be the same as dying? Would I turn into something hard and without flesh?… Ha…"
Memories. Rey did not have many of those. Uncertainty was terrifying, just like ignorance. But that did not mean the boy was unwilling to face the risks.
"I was faster than the earth when it tried to swallow me. I was smart enough to learn how to dodge and fight the Guardians by myself. I managed to make my own weapon. I faced the darkness and kept seeing through it without losing consciousness or failing to notice the smell of the water, the chill of the breeze, the slime of whatever this is that covers me, or the pain of my wounds," he told himself in an arrogant tone—the same tone his master had said the great heroes he had met in his life used. Heroic individuals who did not fear death. Heroes who, to become what they were, had gone through countless trials worthy of the title.
But the child, practically without a past, lost the way out without realizing it, caught between the darkness and his thoughts. In spite of everything, his arrogance only made him believe he was winning the struggle, when in truth it was already too late to escape in time.
What kind of imagined perception can someone have if they lack a past, life experiences, dreams, or longings while walking straight into the world of dreams? Someone immersed in the absence of consciousness, with a mind overloaded by repair work—could they even experience unrealities? Could they experience fantasies? Revelations?
…
"What is this awful sensation that's invading every part of me?... It won't let me go."
The boy spoke to himself in the lucidity of a dark world.
"I have to run, move. My weapon, I have to attack. It's not like the earth that tried to swallow me—this time it's coming from everywhere. I can feel it, but I can't see it."
Alert, he opened his eyes, and the black finally took on color; without ceasing to be black, it turned white and ended up inhabited by subtle, colorful lights. Rey rubbed his tired eyes, and the effect grew even stronger.
"Yes, yes, I can see it. It's the darkness! She's the one trying to devour me!" he declared in his almost lucid dream, for he kept his eyes open. "Argh! Pain! The darkness turns into a reaper—my eyes hurt! My head… something is crushing my head! I can't move! My heart, beaten, squeezed, and torn by hands I can't see! My arms, my legs, my chest, they move, they shake all over, on their own. I can't stop them no matter how hard I try! They won't respond to me. What is this?"
Wracked with cramps, the boy trembled; he couldn't stop his chattering teeth, nor the spasms, nor fight the paralysis in his limbs.
"Get away from me! Get out of me! Leave me alone!"
The small body rolled over and over, exposed to the night's bitter cold.
"Why is the world spinning so much? Argh… Are you against me too?! Aaagh! I feel angry. I want to destroy without using logic anymore. If raw strength can make up for my ability to reason, then why keep wasting my time? I have no strength… Show yourselves! I'm right here! If you need to hide, it's because you're weaker than I am! Purr… this thing I feel is fear, I must purr."
Agitated, he fought without retreating, both on his way into sleep and in the waking world. The boy's body writhed across the ground, his mind broke free and eclipsed the darkness. But he wasn't truly aware that his body, mind, and soul were dwelling in two worlds and yet in one. He also didn't know that both sides did not obey the same rules, or that every living being had a natural fear of death instilled in them—a fear only a few could overcome, and those were the ones destined to live the longest, those whose screws had come loose.
In the face of danger, madness is the rust that corrodes the chains that bind life, the thing that loosens the foundations of what is natural and of common sense. The absence of sanity is the strength of those few, the weakness that life cannot use to its advantage. A weakness with which the boy had never been born—which meant that he was not sane, for he had never feared dying—and the reason why life and death together came to meet the energetic child.
Rey tried by every means to reason, and what better way than to ask himself questions within that space crammed with geometric shapes.
"What is this? Where am I? It's not the same darkness… or is it?... Two colors. Laughter—are they laughing at me? Shiny balls!"
When he made out the two cylindrical spheres, Rey was able to recognize himself, and also the path that lay there. Managing to move, he chased after them until he finally held them in his hands. The two of them writhed as if trying to escape. On reflex, he shoved them into his mouth, until he decided to set them free again and try to talk to them. Rey opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"I can move, feel them, and taste them, but my voice won't come out. I don't hear them either, if they're trying to say something like, 'Please don't swallow me!' Aaah, I don't know what I'm saying… It feels good, but not real. A dream, maybe. What could it be?…"
To dream implied being asleep, and if he was asleep, that meant he had lost.
"I can't let my guard down! I need shelter! I must find shelter! I can't submit! I have to fight! I have to keep moving! But… the pain is gone. It's cozy…"
Through that place—made of hundreds of passages in different directions and, at the same time, an open space with no paths—Rey kept walking, leaving the two spheres behind until he came upon something his own height. The black mass had no face or distinguishable features, but it did have the same eyes.
"Who are you?" Rey asked as soon as he could find his voice.
The similarly shaped body did not respond, though it did lift its hand and point its index finger at the one who had spoken.
"What does that mean? That he is me? No matter how I move, he keeps looking at me the same way I look at him."
Once again, even though he could speak, his words stopped flowing. The boy felt enraged and, since he still had energy, he leaned more toward the path of force.
"Say something, answer my question… Irritating, annoying. Stop! Cut it out! Don't point at me anymore! Get out of here! I'm warning you, argh…"
The shadowy mass shrugged, turned its back, and vanished like someone who wanted no trouble.
"He's going away. Looks like he doesn't want to come back. I've won…"
Rey watched the black mass leave.
"Now I'm alone. Everything feels far away, as if I were falling… into a new, less complicated world. A place where there's no reason to worry about anything. I can be vulnerable… sit down, rest, and close my eyes. A world where I'm not a monster, not a destroyer!"
Rey closed his eyes and couldn't open them again, but thousands of white points—the same ones that had once hung suspended and formed paths—fell down on him. A rain of stars that pushed away the smell of the water, the essence of wet earth, and all the other sensations that came with being awake.
"Ohhh! No! I crossed the line without realizing it. I won't let their assumptions become my reality. They're wrong, and I'll show them. But to do that, I have to leave this false world. A world that isn't here and has no shape—I have to leave it behind."
Using his nails and fingers, Rey tried to pry his eyes open by force, even if it meant tearing off his own eyelids.
"I'll go back out to the colorless darkness! Out of here! Out of my rest—I don't have time to rest, it's not allowed… I must fight, fall so I can stand up again and again. Show them not what I am, but what I can become, what kind of situations I can face. Until the red liquid pouring out of me rips my grip from my spear, even then I won't be defeated, even then I will not surrender."
…
Outside the cave, in the middle of the torrential rain that fell tirelessly, footsteps slowly became distinguishable. The ears of the furry sentry at the entrance picked up the alarming steps of a four-legged creature approaching the rough cavern. In response to the sound, the animal let out a characteristic, immature roar, typical of a throat not yet fully developed, but with the same purpose as the adults of its species: to warn the intruder, and also to stop the one who had collapsed on the ground and was writhing back and forth as if his back were itching from continuing to sleep.
After drawing in as much air as he could, as if it were a matter of will, the boy stopped twisting and opened his eyes, in which the purpose of facing danger once more was reflected. Whatever it might be, victory would be the only thing that kept him alive.
"So that's what sleeping is? Ha-ha-ha! I managed to escape, I did it!… What is there that I can't do?"
Rey told himself arrogantly, still out of breath, clenching his teeth as hard as he could to keep them from chattering as frenetically as they had been, while every bone in his body rattled.
"Pain, sweat, blood, and victory will keep me alive. They will drive the shadows away. I've come back. I'm here… What else do I need to keep going?" The answers came to his mind. "Food to fill my belly and clothes to cover my body…"
The cave floor was not only coated with the mud that had clung to the boy's body when he came in, but now also painted with blood and other fluids. The red liquid still leaking from the child's open wounds spread across the place like the strokes of an inspired artist, with no intention of stopping.
Tired, hungry, and badly wounded, the unwanted pup born between a werewolf and a vampire repeated another mantra in his mind as a last resort:
"'Surrender is not allowed,'" again and again. "'I'll have no family name, but I'll fight to the end, until I can't move, and even then I won't give up. Life is fighting; surrender is not a way out. I know what I am, and I'm going to show him what I can become, what I can face. I, Rey De-Heavens. For me… surrender is not allowed!'"
Rey could no longer ignore that his body was on the verge of breaking, but neither could he ignore how crucial it was to look strong when he was weak. Trembling and struggling, the child pushed himself up on his two legs and one hand, while in the other he held his rustic spear and aimed it forward. Angry at everything in his way, Rey let out a warning roar, but unlike his companion's, the pitch of his vocal cords could not make much difference. The sound he was able to produce was not intimidating at all, but the sudden surge of energy and the abrupt change in his body's traits, making him more like the beasts that fed on flesh, certainly was.
"A guardian of Paradise. How is that possible? I waited until they were all asleep before entering the forest, precisely so I wouldn't have to run into any of them. Hm. This one is different…" Rey added out loud.
"It smells like blood," the child said, ready to attack with all his strength.
"I wonder if it's just as desperate as we are," he thought. "A badly wounded beast, one that couldn't find food and doesn't have a hole like this one, is easy prey. The earth could swallow it if it stopped moving. Just like us. This is all or nothing… whoever wins keeps the cave and gets the loser's head as a prize."
With every passing second, Rey felt the sound of the rain grow until it was almost deafening. He didn't realize it, but both his sense of smell and his hearing had sharpened thanks to his lycanthropic transformation.
Time dragged on and the boy began to grow impatient. Rey wanted it all to end quickly—so much so that he thought about rushing out to be the first to attack. But when he sensed his companion trying to do the same, he spoke up:
"No."
Putting hunger and desperation aside and fully aware of his lack of strength, he chose to reason.
"What am I thinking? It's going to attack us sooner or later… Yes, it has no choice. As long as it's outside, it's in danger. We have the advantage, enough to make a difference… On the other hand, I have this spear in my hands, and I witnessed the techniques to defend myself from one of them, but I lack real combat experience against a guardian, and I don't plan on bolting like the wind the moment I get a chance to escape."
Clear-headed, he decided to speak aloud so his companion could hear him:
"Fall back. Let it come into our territory… You'll have to give me the signal when it's close enough for me to attack. Don't worry."
Step by step, ignoring the warnings, under the pouring rain, the great feline beast approached the entrance of what was, in truth, its own cave. It was furious—maybe from hunger, maybe from lack of patience.
The small furry cub kept screeching with all its might as it retreated deeper into the cave, just as his smooth-skinned companion had told him. Even though they did not share the same language, the two of them understood each other, which made their teamwork far more efficient.
Once its whole head had entered the cave that belonged to it, the guardian's eyes—with one broken fang jutting from its jaw—became imposing. Its massive teeth, designed to tear through flesh, vibrated with each powerful exhalation the exhausted creature let out. Then a single overwhelming, razor-sharp claw invaded the cave floor. Even covered in mud, its weight made the roots and rocks cry out. Water streamed from the long, dense fur that could very well rival the solidity of iron armor, pouring down and nearly flooding the space.
"Rey, she's stopped screeching. The next sound will be the signal. The smell of wet fur is stronger, the ground is trembling, the growl is lengthening…" the boy repeated in his mind, but suddenly everything went still. "Ahhh… Being able to see in the dark would be so convenient in a moment like this…" he thought.
Rey turned to stone where he stood, not even breathing. But though he could only feel his enemy drawing closer, he hadn't gone catatonic; he gripped the spear even tighter and waited with growing eagerness for the perfect signal to kill. Committed to waiting, Rey planned to hold his ground even if the beast lunged and tore his arm off—that was how much trust he had placed in his companion.
"Listening more carefully… so this is the smell of the night?" he kept thinking. He had nothing else to do, since time stretched on and refused to end. "It's strange that now the scents the rain had hidden seem clearer. My nose has improved. But despite everything I sense, the color my eyes see doesn't change. It's like I'm looking inside myself, as if I were resting with my eyes open. In my ears, the rumbling purr-growls of a hungry, exhausted carnivore in agony won't stop. It may have entered the cave, but it will never get inside my head…"
Lifting his gaze with arrogance and baring his teeth, Rey went on thinking:
"I just pity you, that's all. How does it feel to think you have the advantage? I can feel your breath on me. Maybe you think you've got me cornered, that it's too late for me to escape, don't you?… You're wrong. It's not me, it's you who's cornered, and soon you won't be able to escape from me. I have no reason strong enough to make me stand against the natural course of a creature like you dying by my hands."
An idea flickered through the darkness of the boy's thoughts, like another rock dropping onto his shoulders on top of the one he was already carrying.
"Oh! Wait—you and her are the same species. Does that mean I'm losing what's good in me? No, I already lost it. Everything was lost the moment I made this spear to kill instead of to defend myself. Hm? What would happen if, right now, she—the being closest to me—met death at my hands? What would I feel in that situation? I wonder if I'd lose the only protection I have against loneliness. I'm willing to take a life. But now that I think about it this way, I'm not ready to do it if it means sacrificing her. Is this doubt? Why am I doubting in a fight when what I should do is keep moving forward? This beast that's coming wants to kill me. What's the problem if I have the same intentions?… that something might go wrong. When I chose to fight in here, it was for my own good… but it's better for her to fight out there… Why is she taking so long to give the signal? Why is she taking so long?"
Inside the cave, the larger one roared, intending to subdue the first opponent who neither lowered his head nor stopped baring his teeth. A verbal warning that might still avoid a direct clash.
"Know your place!!!" the beast snarled angrily in her own tongue.
The small feline opened her eyes as wide as she could. It was as if she had grown roots into the floor. She rejected the thought a few times, but she could no longer deny who was standing before her. The water could mask the scent, but her sight did not lie. The tone and timbre of the intruder's growl stirred up a whole storm of feelings inside her—sensations as hard to confuse as life itself. Surprise, joy, nostalgia, and disappointment all melted into desolation. She understood that, even with her father standing right in front of her, those growls spelled tragedy. They told her she had lost the recognition of someone precious, and with it, the value of her existence as a daughter.
At the far end of the cave, the boy was drooling from such deep concentration that he hadn't even breathed. With his heartbeat slowing, the child justified that roar, that silence, and that long delay.
"If the guardian roared and still hasn't attacked, maybe he's much weaker than we are and is only trying to threaten us," the boy thought. "If I manage to show I'm ready to fight by threatening back, maybe I can intimidate him and win the fight without having to kill him. Yes!"
The child, imitating his opponent, answered the furious roar and bared his teeth even more. Out of the darkness, a sharp impact caught him.
In response to that defiance, the even more offended beast struck the boy who was standing up to him with one of his claws, then roared again, demanding that he stay on the ground.
The little feline lowered her head and ears, backing away in alarm when she saw how violently her companion had been attacked. A heartbeat later, her blood boiled in her veins—her father was abusing and roaring down at the creature who had helped her so much until now. The one who, during the day, had found her and carried her on his head so she could see into the distance. The same one who had helped her in his tireless search all this time. How could she just watch that? Of course, there was no need to go as far as giving the signal to attack… but at least to intervene with a sound.
"I ended up taking the first hit. I was wrong. Unbearable pain! He isn't weaker than I am—he never was… It was my mistake to think about the enemy's life and not wait for the signal. Argh! This wouldn't have happened to my father, or my master, or any of those who think about killing me. If only I hadn't been so focused on being good… I can still stand… I'm not dead. Threats don't mean anything…" the boy told himself as he writhed on the ground.
In seconds, the child was back on his feet and raised his spear in front of him; the beast lifted his right claw once more, exposing the inner sharpened curves of his nails.
The five cruel executioners promised to deal death with the next blow. The boy's skin had already been sliced five times over, down to the bone of his arm and ribs. His flesh, stripped of fur and already battered, was practically falling off in pieces onto the floor as blood splattered the cave walls. Her father, or her friend—that was the choice for the small feline who tried to intervene with her voice, only to be ignored. She kept her head lowered and her body in a submissive posture, but also realized it was the perfect stance from which to leap. At the last second, she followed the decision pounding in her racing heart, and with the characteristic "signal" sound, she threw herself into the attack with all the ferocity she could muster.
The beast could not bring his right claw down on the child. Forced to react to the attack coming from the smaller feline of his own species, he had to change his movement and get rid of the aggressor first before fulfilling his original intent. But in the chaos, the beast realized his mistake—and even then, it was already too late to do anything about it.
"Actions. Yes!!!" the boy told himself when he heard the signal.
"To fight is to take life and death by the hand while you dance in a field full of possibilities. If you want to learn to dance in that storm, don't focus on the possibilities—focus on your body, and don't be afraid to improvise."
Heroclades' words came back to the boy as his body answered to the rhythm of battle.
Throwing his whole being forward, he drove the rustic spear into the chest of the distracted beast. The sharpened horn tip pierced through fur as tough as steel, tore through flesh, struck the ribs, and, perhaps due to the angle, slipped past and continued its path deeper into the colossal body until it reached the heart.
Opening his mouth, the child gulped down a lungful of air so he could grit his teeth and keep pushing, even as his enemy's blood tried to rip the weapon from his grasp.
The frantic pounding of a heart about to stop echoed through the cave. Thump, thump… bump… The boy's blood-soaked hands, clutching the spear as hard as he could so it wouldn't slip, seemed to fuse with the beast's insides. The elongated shaft turned into a pulsing organ. If Rey could have seen in that moment, he was sure he would have seen his enemy's dying heart between his hands. No matter how hard he squeezed his fingers, the sickening sensation wouldn't leave. It stayed there, as if its only purpose were to make him feel guilty.
"The strength in me is fading, and the spear in your hands is the reason," said the heartbeats. Even so, the boy had already decided to give his life in exchange for not letting go and continuing to push.
The pain in his chest was immense, but the pitch of the little furry one's cries when she was slashed by those claws rose even higher and cut even deeper. Memories of the same cry from one of the cubs he had abandoned hurt his heart worse than any spear thirty times larger and set ablaze could have done. Less blinded now by hunger and irritation, the beast surrendered all desire to fight as he turned his face back toward the little furry one suffering on the ground. He glanced at her, sniffed her, and then, with all his might, let out something that could only be described as the wail of a baby.
For reasons beyond Rey's understanding, the massive intruder roared with all the power of his rage; even so, he did not release the boy's weapon. Rey couldn't stop gasping, was losing focus and calm. He had not counted on it taking so long to kill something alive.
"I want to go to her. She's hurting," he told himself in despair as he listened to the small one suffer. The boy screamed and tried to keep pushing, even as he choked on the jets of blood blasting out from the carnivore's innards.
The little furry guardian used the thin pitches of her throat to speak agony with every breath. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could go back to the past—to that place where a cozy den sheltered her, where everything shone and she could see her mother, a father, and siblings brimming with joy. They touched each other to feel affection, to build closeness, to share scents in a game of happiness. But when she opened her lashes, she saw the opposite. In a present far less adorned and far more cruel, something caught her attention: her father's sad face—the same expression he wore when there was nothing to eat and they had to spend the night with their stomachs empty. He too was crying and showed something in his glassy eyes she did not expect: that he was disappointed in himself for having taken part in such a low act, and at the same time relieved to finally see an end to his suffering.
Indeed, compassion took the place of need when the noble guardian of Paradise saw what he had caused: two wounded cubs of different species, both nearly at death's door. The animal felt useless; he had always seen himself as an incompetent, cowardly father.
"It's not too late to do the right thing… I hope you can forgive me and find honor in my sacrifice," he said.
With the little life he had left, he chose to lie down in front of the entrance to his cave and remain awake until the last beat of his heart.
In the process, Rey felt that his opponent no longer had any intention of fighting. He heard the beast turn away, carrying his spear with it, and then the weapon seemed to snag on a rock along the way and shatter into pieces.
Everything had been very strange to Rey and, although he still couldn't see, he searched the ground with his hands, hoping to find something sharp that might help him defend himself.
The animal, with its gigantic body and without removing the spear from its chest, walked to the entrance and, after collapsing tiredly onto the ground, blocked the opening so that no other intruder could carry out the slaughter he himself had been about to unleash. Staring out at the rain to wash away his tears, he felt everything sink into darkness and, after one last sigh, felt nothing more.
"Did I make the right choice?" the beast wondered in uncertainty.
The boy kept using his hands like a blind man searching the floor for his cane, unwilling to believe in what he could not see. With his fingers bathed in blood that still pulsed, Rey could not erase the sickening sensation transmitted by the beats of a dying heart. Suddenly, the metallic smell of the red liquid became light and lit up the darkness of that grim place.
Alongside eyes that could now see, a mechanism deep within the boy was triggered. An impulsive urge awoke in him—the need to bring the enemy's blood back to the wise ones, to taste the liquid, swallow it, and consume it.
Rey had never felt anything like it before.
"Why should I refuse to satisfy this curiosity that has suddenly come over me?" he asked himself.
And so, forgetting for a moment everything happening around him, he tasted the liquid left behind by his fallen enemy.
With a single mouthful, his heartbeat calmed; he could think more clearly, smell, see, and breathe better. The wounds on his skin partially healed. His fangs grew longer. He felt less tired; the massive burdens he carried no longer seemed significant enough to crush him, stop him, or choke him. In his back, the dormant, malformed muscles of two wings awoke to the point of wanting to break free.
In the exact moment Rey smeared his tongue with foreign blood, he felt unknown functions ignite inside his body. But those internal mechanisms had always been there—part of the nature inherited from his mother—they had simply remained dormant until then, and someone else's blood had been the key that switched them on and set them working, so to speak.
Although he was astonished, worry for his friend weighed even more heavily and forced him back into the present. Rey flung two questions into the air that, without a doubt, were far more important:
"Where are you?! Can you hear me?"
The small feline, as soon as she heard him call, decided to use every exhalation she had left to make her vocal cords vibrate, though they grew weaker with every passing moment.
Rey went toward the source of the cries. Close enough to kneel and stretch out his hands, he examined his companion and then drew his conclusions.
"She's breathing faster than normal," he told himself as he felt the heat of a wound and several exposed organs. "She's suffering. She's in pain." Rey tried not to move the small body. "She's not responding to me anymore… she's dying. No, no… no. No!"
The ever-optimistic child now imagined the worst possible outcome, but everything made sense in his head. He had won an impossible fight without really fighting or having the right conditions. Life had every right to demand something in return for such undeserved luck.
…
Drawn by the unimaginable, never-before-heard whimpering of the boy she had been following, a formless shadow slipped its head in between the beast's body and the rocks at the cave's entrance. There she was—not life itself, but the one who, in a way, opposed it and dressed in black. Curious, she peered inside with violet eyes, as if wanting to confirm what her ears struggled to believe. The small shadow, who hid a dagger beneath her robes, didn't know how to react, nor how to comfort someone who was suffering. She was also far too shy to draw attention to herself and vanished on reflex the instant she sensed she had been noticed.
Grinding his teeth until they squeaked, Rey knew he couldn't let himself be distracted by unimportant things while he still needed to find a solution to his companion's condition. As strange as the situation was, more darkness at the cave entrance posed no threat—but no help either. The boy, turning his attention to the one who needed him most, used his left arm to drive a piece of the broken spear through the palm of his other hand. Without showing discomfort at the pain, he hurt himself as much as he could with the purpose of making himself bleed.
"Drink my blood!" he said in a trembling voice, breathing deeply to keep the water running from his nose from turning into sobs. "Go on, swallow… Drinking blood will do you good! Just like it did for me… See? Open your eyes. Look at me. My wounds are healing."
The blood from his hand fell into his furry companion's mouth, ran between her teeth, coated her tongue—but continued on to the ground.
It was the only logical solution in his mind. The boy believed his companion would be able to recover the same way he had, if they did the same thing.
"Where did I go wrong? Why is everything going so badly? She's not swallowing," the boy thought. "Yes, that must be it. I have to tilt her head back and let my blood fall into the middle of her mouth."
Blindly, Rey took his companion's head and tilted it upward. Letting the liquid fall into her half-open mouth, he was met with a sound not very compatible with life—the distinct sound of someone drowning on water. Bubbling, gagging, the urge to vomit. Suddenly a whole gush of fluids erupted from the feline's stomach and splashed all over Rey's body. Only then did the boy realize he was doing more harm than good and stopped trying to force his companion to drink blood, choosing instead to caress her with his hand as if apologizing.
It was hard to accept, but their natures were different. As different as their bodies. One had fur, the other did not. One had large teeth, the other did not. One walked on four legs, the other did not. Naturally, one was not meant to recover, while the other was. No matter how much blood the feline received, her condition was not going to improve.
With eyes flooded by resignation and water that made them look glassy, the boy let all the air out of his lungs, accepting what was obvious.
"I have a second option," he thought, wiping the tears from his face. "I can wait for the daylight lights to return, wait for the elders to arrive—but I don't know if this darkness wants to lose its battle against the light. Aah, and the falling water doesn't seem willing to help either. It's just me, no one else. I won't leave you behind, even if I have to live for you."
Resigned, Rey realized there was nothing more he could do but stay awake and watch over the little guardian until she came out of her critical state. To encourage her whenever she lost the will to live, to share body heat whenever she was cold, to feed her when she was hungry, and to clean her whenever it was needed.
…
The water seemed to fall with less ferocity; it had turned into a soothing sound. A lullaby which, together with the tedious monotony of silence and exhaustion, slowly gnawed at the will of the little lycanthrope pup's eyes. Even so, he remained unshaken. He kept his companion's body warm, breathing for her whenever it was necessary. Yes, Rey would close her mouth with his hands, press his lips to the feline's nose, and fill her lungs as many times as needed.
…
"For the first time, I feel happy," Rey thought as he rubbed his heavy eyes and then glanced at his companion. "Her wounds look better. They don't stink anymore, and they're not bleeding. She can breathe and doesn't feel cold. Should I clean her body one last time?"
Rey dropped to his knees, braced his hands on the ground, and began licking the feline's fur. "Even if my tongue isn't rough, it still gets the job done."
Once he finished cleaning her, he walked toward the entrance and felt what seemed to be large bones. Then he wondered:
"How inconvenient not knowing how much time is left. Enough must have passed for the huge beast's flesh to rot away. It barely has any taste now." He brought a piece of bone to his mouth. "Maybe it's because I feel indebted? Thanks to him I'm still alive and was able to eat without leaving the cave. Even if it doesn't appeal to me like it did at first, with the bad smell and taste, I can still keep eating it. I also got these garments that protect me from the cold… I know a lot of my questions don't make sense, but I'd like to know why my situation ended up like this. I could learn. No, I need to learn. But for now, I have to be patient."
…
"Ah, I'm skin and bones," he told himself, pinching the loose skin over his shrunken stomach. "There's no flesh under my skin. Maybe… I'm decomposing."
He touched his face and looked at his hands.
"But I'm still alive. It doesn't make sense for me to be rotting. I've lost a lot of weight from not eating; even the guardian's bones are gone now. Oh, the water finally stopped falling."
The boy took as deep a breath as he could.
"It's time for the ground outside to fall asleep. I think it's safe to go look for more food for myself. Although, now that I think about it, she hasn't gotten thinner like I have. Maybe she's just asleep… Yes, that's what it seems like. Now that she's sleeping, nothing can hurt her. It's a divine protection that comes included with this strange place. In any case, I can't keep running away—I don't want to leave her behind. I don't want to die from not eating either, and if everyone is asleep, this is my chance to get ready for tomorrow."
Rey took his first steps out of the cave.
"'The path of someone strong is lonely if they don't know how to care for those who walk beside them.' That's not it, Heroclades. Let solitude embrace me on this journey. Will I be able to defeat despair and stay sane in the process?" he asked himself. The ground was solid; it didn't try to swallow him.
Using half of the spear as a walking staff, Rey managed to move forward without stumbling. The answers were in his heart—he could have slept like the others and waited for tomorrow. It was the easiest path: he wouldn't have to face hunger or any other enemy that might still be awake. But it wasn't the right one.
"To act as if your life depends on achieving your goal—that's the right thing," he told himself.
The boy walked slowly and, even though he was no longer being guided by his companion, this time he didn't crash into the floating stones, didn't trip on roots, didn't startle at the different sounds of the night. All because he was moving calmly.
"Before, when I ran with a thirst for freedom, I stumbled over everything," he thought. "Now it's different. I don't have to worry about not leaving traces. I can explore this forest, train, and become strong. The trees seem to be the only ones that stay awake even after all this time… He said they were my best teachers. But how do you learn from them?"
Like a helmet, Rey wore on his head the skull of the immense animal he had fought. He sheltered himself from the cold with a thick cloak made of striped leather and fur. Several bone knives formed part of a rough belt slung over his right shoulder. His feet were still bare, and nothing else covered him.
Sniffing with his nose and feeling his way with his hands, Rey kept going deeper into the darkness, using the knowledge that the cave was at his back as his only point of reference.
Gradually, the night stopped being so dark, and Rey began to make out shapes around him. "Oh, it looks like it's turning to day. I have to go back," he told himself. "Little by little I can see everything around me, even if things don't look the way they did before."
Returning to the cave, Rey waited for the little guardian to wake up, but it didn't happen.
"Hmm? She doesn't open her eyes no matter how much I move her. She's not dead, because her chest still beats and rises searching for air."
Sitting down, ready to wait, Rey watched as the cave lit up in different shades of gray. Nothing was black or fully white, but between those two tones even the cracks in the wood became visible.
"If I can see everything, that means it's daytime. So why is she still asleep?" the boy asked, running his hand over the feline's head. "My stomach's growling a lot. Time keeps passing, it's getting even colder. I can see something white falling from above, covering the ground outside the cave. I have to find help! But first I need to get to where they are so I can ask for it," he told himself as he left the cave and headed into the forest.
This time, now that he could see, he didn't need to rely on his staff, and maybe he could find what he was looking for. Even so, no matter how far he walked, Rey couldn't find a path to follow.
"I've got it. I'll mark the trees along the way. That's a good idea. As long as I keep moving, I can't fall asleep, even though somehow my stomach just growls louder."
Rey set off. Even though he couldn't feel his feet and kept sinking into the white snow, he used the unicorn horn to mark the trees around him.
"Exploring seems like a good remedy against sleep. Hmm? Sleep… I'm still sleepy even though it's daytime. Isn't your body supposed to rest only at night?"
Rey tried to remember; he had no choice but to talk to himself.
"'Eternal night,' Heroclades said. Even if I don't know what 'eternal' means, maybe it's still night and I'm the only one awake. Does that mean I can see as clearly as if it were day?! Mmm. That's a very interesting possibility. Now that I think about it, I can smell things I couldn't before. A sweet aroma, a scent that goes straight from my nose to my stomach. If that's the case, maybe it's edible."
Turning his attention to the ground, he went on:
"Whatever it is, it's coming from under the ground. I have to make my way to it. My hands and nails are all I need."
The boy got to work. He clawed at the ground again and again, digging until he pushed the earth aside.
"The smell is getting stronger. Now that I think about it, even though this hole is already deeper than twice my height, I can still see as if it were daytime. Even if this hole becomes my own grave, I'm happy. Really happy—being able to see in the dark is all I wanted, along with finding food."
He tore out the huge tuber, and the smile on his face cracked.
"I'm not as happy anymore. If I'd been able to see in the dark from the beginning, she wouldn't have ended up in such bad shape. And if I'd been stronger… Strength means a lot when knowledge is so little… How do I get rid of this feeling that twists my throat, and this weight that crushes me? My happiness turns into a burden. I don't think it's fair—how far could I go if I didn't have to carry all this on my back?"
Lost in thought at the bottom of the hole, Rey bit into the big root as if it were a piece of smoked ham. Bite after bite, in a foul mood, he brooded over his failure like a cat eating while someone pulled its tail. Once satisfied by the feast, Rey gave a powerful jump and leapt out of the hole. Turning around, he looked toward the tree.
"I have to be more careful, make up for my lack of strength with intelligence. Same as before. The scene doesn't change whether it's past, present, or future. Notice everything. Pay attention—don't just look for the sake of looking or listen for the sake of listening. Find what's hidden from the eyes of the ones you see. I'll keep walking. I'll set out and walk more and more. If the burden gets heavier, I'll just drag it harder."
Like someone pressing on a wound to try to calm the pain with more pain, Rey went on:
"Oops. I've already passed through here. This place feels very familiar, but my marks aren't on the trunks. 'Hard to learn, very easy to forget,' said the Great Wise Magus… I feel like I should remember something—I'm missing something. With a little more time, or a dozen more steps, the answers will come… I have no choice. 'What better teachers exist in this place than the trees that make up the Ever-Changing Forest? They didn't reach that size or become what they are without first enduring the bites of time and fighting against the wind, the rain, the earth,' my master told me. Hmm? Now that I think of it, my wounds have healed; maybe these trees have the same ability. If so, I have to test it."
Sure enough, with one thrust, Rey cut into a trunk's bark with the sharp horn. Then he sat down to wait. It wasn't instant, but after a while, the trunk returned to normal and, more than healing, it seemed to… move.
"The tree moved. So that's what this is."
Answers came to him.
"This place is called the Ever-Changing Forest because the trunks recover—and with this cold white stuff falling from above, I have no way of going back the way I came if I just keep walking," the busy boy thought. "Hmm? My nails have hardened from all the digging for food. And if I climb one of these trees, what will I find at the top?"
With the idea in mind, the boy got to his feet and lifted his head as high as he could.
The trees around him were immense and imposing. The ones with thinner trunks were the smallest and stood around twenty-two meters tall; those with the thickest trunks reached up to three thousand meters. Their bark looked smooth, bottle-shaped, their branches flaring out in crowns with a three-hundred-meter diameter, but none of them had leaves at the tips.
Taking a deep breath, Rey turned his hand into a claw and sank his nails into the thick, sturdy bark of the widest tree he could find. Vertically, without a rope, Rey climbed until he was exhausted, paying no mind to the two burdens hanging from his neck and resting on his shoulders. When he was tired and thought he couldn't go on, at the very moment hunger took hold of his stomach again, Rey looked up and realized he hadn't even reached halfway—though he could no longer see the ground he had left behind.
"At this point, if I start wondering whether I'm lost… I'll only add more doubts onto my shoulders," he told himself. "But… was I too ambitious?" he wondered.
Rey's face was pale, his nails worn down, and the cold and wind lashed him like a whip intent on knocking him down. He had nowhere to take shelter and nothing to eat. The height was intimidating and the summit unreachable. His life depended only on the sharp edges of the nails on his fingers and toes, the trunk stayed solid while his claws were about to give out. If he let go with his right hand, grabbed the unicorn's horn and used it as support once he drove it in, Rey could rest a little, but it was no easy task. Panic took him by surprise and froze him in place. The stone on his shoulders grew heavier and the cart pulling at his throat even larger. His mind turned chaotic. It was impossible to stay calm when he knew the next move could be a failure and mean death. His left hand was about to give out, and so were both feet. Without the grip of his right hand, would that be the end? What could he do? Had he wasted his time? Did he really want to live that badly? Could he regret it all, go back in time and admit he had been wrong?
"No! I don't want to live a life of regrets. I'm not going to live a life of regrets! If I made this decision, I'm going to try. To the very end! Otherwise, I wouldn't have even started. To the end, even if I lose my hands, my feet, my eyes, or my mind. Even then, to the end. So I can't keep climbing, huh? Who here has the authority to stop me from going on?" he shouted with all the strength he could. The roar felt liberating; the great stone he carried on his shoulders slipped off, and the rope tying the cart to his neck snapped.
With his right hand, the boy grabbed the horn and struck the bark. It didn't go in deep enough; it might snap, so he had to do it again. Holding on with his left claw and the nails of his feet, Rey kept hammering at the trunk. Both feet slipped, but not his right hand or what it held. With the horn buried, he had a chance to let the edges of his nails regenerate so he could reposition himself and stab the tree again. The climbing process became less monotonous for the boy. After that, whenever he could, he put a piece of bark in his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. He also drank the sap before it froze and rested there, then continued on until he felt hungry and repeated the process. The higher he climbed, the more violent the wind became and the colder the air grew.
Suddenly, an immense black shadow swept past behind the boy.
Rey clenched his teeth as the corners of his lips lifted. He had thought he was the only one awake, but he was glad to be wrong. Without thinking twice, he jumped into the void as fast as he could. This enemy was different: unlike the previous one, this one radiated bloodlust.
The black shadow swept past again and ten gashes opened along the trunk at the height where the boy had been. A shriek rang out.
Rey spread his hands and twisted his body in midair, intending to look his opponent in the eyes. And there it was: an enormous creature whose outstretched wings spanned nearly three meters. The feathered beast had dark brown eyes; a beak that was black at the tip but pale yellow at its base; and two feathered legs from which ten pairs of claws protruded, curved and sharp like those of the ligers. It was the other point of the food triangle in that place. These birds were the perfect predators of unicorns, seizing them with their claws and lifting them into the air only to drop them, while the ligers were the natural predators of these birds, who let their guard down when it was time to eat.
"From this height, if I hit the ground, you won't be able to get anything from me, not even by licking the dirt. You'd better catch me," Rey told himself, a plan already forming in his mind.
The great feathered animal folded its wings, increasing the speed of its dive. At just the right moment, Rey checked his fall, spreading his limbs and positioning himself vertically to crash into his attacker. Dodging the edges of the claws aimed at him, the boy managed to drive two of the knives on his belt into the beast's mouth. The remaining dagger sank into the bird's chest as it tumbled out of control, and Rey sprang back toward the tree he had thrown himself from.
The feathered beast couldn't open its wings in time and plummeted into the abyss. Rey heard it smashing through the branches of smaller trees until it vanished from sight.
"It was a good trade, my daggers for your heart," said the boy who, barely done savoring his opponent's blood, went on climbing as if nothing had happened.
The crying of featherless chicks drew the boy's attention. He had already forgotten to look up and had only kept moving forward, and that was when he realized he was already at the crown of the tree. When he turned his head, he saw he hadn't climbed the largest tree, and even so, though there were fewer trunks, the blizzard was so dense and white that it kept him from seeing even the tip of his own nose.
"So this is the summit," he told himself. "It's much colder. I can hardly see anything. Aaaah, by focusing on the ground I wasn't able to see the greatness of the trees; by stubbornly climbing I wasn't able to notice the peak; by wanting to reach the top I tore another life out of this world, and now that I'm up here, I still can't find my way. I'm lost, making mistake after mistake, but I'm still alive. I can't let the weight of doubt come back. By mending, as many times as I can, the product of my bad decisions, I'll keep moving forward no matter the consequences."
He could hear the desperate chirps right above him, as if they were guiding him to keep climbing.
"It isn't their fault. They're going to die without their mother's warmth. I have to take responsibility. No matter how much it hurts me…"
Guided by the sound of the hungry chicks, the boy reached their nest and, after readying his right claw, with a single thrust he snuffed out the lives of those who cried and then devoured them without wasting a single shred of meat. The nest was warm, its structure offered good shelter from the blizzard, and it carried a pleasant scent of new life. It was a home in the heights, built with much work and dedication, Rey noticed.
"I said I didn't want to live a life of regrets, so I can't regret this," he told himself. "It's nice to have a family that protects you…"
Rey remembered how, on the other side of a lake of light, he had seen an entire family of felines playing—a family that had made him feel sad at the time.
"I can't think about that, not now. I have to keep going. There's someone waiting for me and depending on me… someone I'll learn to take care of, so I don't have to live in loneliness anymore."