"I still don't really understand why we can't make friends with the hunter," Ink said in frustration. He was sitting and idly pulling on chunks of grass. They had stopped running now.
"Someone... who knows... traps..." Amos was panting with the heavy exertion of their sprint, "will have... weapons."
"But you don't know that they would be dangerous just because they have weapons!"
"Rather not... take chances..."
"We're both really strong, though! If they try to fight us I'll stand in front while you use your Drai powers."
Amos rolled over so he was lying on his stomach. He buried his face in the grass.
"We should at least try to make friends. I'm gonna starve to death if we don't."
Amos lay silent for a while. "Fine," he grunted. "Let me practice with my powers first, though. I still don't really understand them."
"Uh, Amos," Ink said, "maybe you shouldn't practice with the fire powers in a forest."
"I can't rely on you all the time, Ink," Amos said. "I'll just point it away from the trees."
Ink chewed on his lip, but eventually nodded and stepped back.
Amos reached out his hand like he had done before, instinctually. He searched inside of himself for the well of power he had tapped on and felt a few droplets of energy left. The previous night with Darian had used up the entirety of his reserves.
It seems like my power uses a regenerating resource. I'll call it mana, like from a video game.
So I have two power systems... Aries and Cancer.
Let's try Aries first!
Amos reached for the metaphysical resource inside of him - his mana - and channelled it into his hand. It flowed obediently from his core, through his chest, into his shoulder, down his arm, and then coalescing into his palm. There was a building pressure in his hand when it reached there, like the skin was providing a barrier that was stopping the power from flowing. Amos grimaced as it grew and grew, siphoning more and more of his mana. He thought of one thing: Strength.
All this occurred within the span of a second, until the mana could no longer be contained and Amos shaped it with the authority of an Aries Drai.
Ink flinched when a loud crack resounded through the air. There was a small burst of light and heat. A thin jet of flame shot from Amos' outstretched hand and arced into the air where it fizzled out after a few metres.
"Whoa..." Ink said, "Last time you did that it was just a tiny fire."
"Fuck! Ow!" Amos shook his hand. "It burns me! What kind of power is this!"
"Let me see," Ink said, rushing to his side.
Amos turned his hand over. It was not wrong to say that it was blistering, but it would be more accurate to say bubbling, considering the speed at which the blisters were arising.
"That's bad. Really bad," Ink said, attempting to cool Amos' suppurating skin by blowing on it.
"Ow," Amos pulled his hand back, "not helping."
"Sorry."
"You're right though, Ink," Amos frowned. "I'm no doctor, but this is at least a second degree burn, maybe third..."
Ink smiled, "I like being right. What's a degree?"
"It doesn't hurt as much as it should..." Amos ignored him, "maybe being a Drai protects me from Aries' power somewhat..."
"So an Aries Drai can control fire like you?"
"It seems so. When I underwent the selection process, there were several others who also became Aries Drai."
"So fiery friends?"
Amos smiled, "Not everyone's a friend, Ink."
"It would be better if they were."
"Yeah..." Amos stared at his hand. The pus and blisters receded on their own in record time. Amos' eyebrows shot up, but he simply attributed it to his newfound powers. He was left with a light redness and a subtle stinging in his palm. He checked his mana reserves and was surprised to find a smidgeon of energy left. "Now for the my other abilities."
"The golden thing you did to Darian? That was cool!"
"Yep," Amos reached out his hand and channelled his mana the same as before. The only difference was the concept he focussed on when channelling.
Safety, this time.
Instead of a painful burst of flame, a gentle tendril of golden light slid from the spaces between the atoms in Amos' hand. It twirled around him with a life of its own, though he was able to command it at will. He directed it to his burned hand and the tendril spread itself thin, like a glove of energy. It didn't heal him, but he couldn't feel the pain anymore.
"Huh," Amos said, inspecting his golden glove. "It's like a wisp or something."
"What's a wisp?" Ink asked.
"Um... like a spirit. Something with a mind of its own."
"Cool. Is that Cancer's power?"
"It's supposed to have something to do with safety..."
"Spirit's aren't normally safe. They're dangerous."
Amos thought for a moment, then turned to punch a tree. He put all his force into it, swinging with his burned arm. He commanded the golden light to protect him from harm. When he connected with the trunk, the glove formed a buffer around the point of contact.
Amos didn't feel a thing. He stepped back as the tendril dissolved from his hand into nothingness.
"Experiment over," Amos said. His mana reserves were empty. "It seems being an Aries Drai grants me partial resistance to heat and the ability to produce my own flames from mana. Even at Rank One, this ability is particularly strong for combat. The other Aries Drai are potentially dangerous. On the other hand, Cancer's powers focus on protection and safety. At Rank One, I'm granted a protective spirit that I can summon. It's possible that if I had enough mana, I could use both powers at once, but I'd need to practice some more."
"I completely understand," Ink said, stroking his chin. He did not understand a thing.
"Still," Amos continued, "There's something missing here. The other Drai I've spoken to before have mentioned an Eclipse Modifier. Yakob said his Penumbral Lunar Modifier enabled him to hide his mana. I observed a Total Solar Eclipse, so I wonder how that affects me as a Drai..."
"Amos?" Ink interrupted.
"Mm?" Amos was still stuck in his head, thinking through the implications of being Drai.
"I'm hungry. Let's go find the hunter."
Amos's eyes cleared and he smiled at Ink. "Sure," he said, then wandered off with Ink behind him, his head in the clouds.
...
They searched for more traps left by the hunter. It seemed logical that the traps would be nearby to a camp or some such so that the hunter could easily check on them. Amos also hoped that they would find a trap with an animal in it before the hunter did so they could feast.
"Ink, I had a dream the other night," Amos said as they walked.
"I've never had a dream," Ink said. "What are they like?"
"Never?" Amos was caught off guard. Ink just shook his head. "Um, well, they don't really make a lot of sense. Sometimes they can be about fears or something you want. Sometimes they're just straight up weird."
"What kind did you have?"
"Not sure. I dreamed I was back in the Palace of the Gods, where I became Drai. There was no one there. I had the map, and it felt like Aries and Cancer wanted me to go to a northern port. When I woke up, the map crumbled to ash."
"Huh... how are we supposed to know where to go now?"
"Just north, I guess. Unless you have a better idea?"
"I just want to stay away from the Trenmir."
"Okay, well we can go to Botre Village first for directions. I know it's along the river somewhere, so we should follow that. Maybe we could find some real food there too."
"Real food? Is there fake food?"
"No, like," Amos pinched his forehead. The hunger was giving him a headache. "Like something good. Yummy."
"I hope they have soup in Botre Village," Ink said wistfully. "I like soup..."
Ink stopped walking and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late. He looked down at Amos and opened his mouth to complain once more about a lack of food. Before he got a chance, Amos held up a finger for silence. There came a quiet squeaking from the forest beyond them. Amos and Ink grinned at each other, then crept towards it.
In the middle of two trees was an upturned basket made of twigs and branches, lashed together with plant fibres. The squeaking was coming from an animal Amos had never seen before, trapped inside the basket. It was a ball of fur, about the size of Amos' forearm in length and quite round. In a word, it looked like a gigantic hamster.
"What is that thing?" Amos whispered.
"No clue," Ink said with no regard for quiet. "Never saw one of them when Shanty brought me through the forest. She packed our food for us."
Amos glared at him and put a finger to his lips.
"Sorry," Ink whispered, "she made really good sandwiches."
Amos rolled his eyes. "I'm going to kill that thing so we can eat it. Can you find some wood to make a fire?"
Ink looked around at the trees, fallen branches, and dry leaves surrounding them. "I think I'll manage."
The thing in the trap was chewing on the twigs that made the bars of its cage. Periodically, it would paw at the trap, trying to escape. It had such soulful eyes.
Amos hesitated, but then his belly grumbled. He looked away as he did what he needed to.
...
The meat was stringy, but the fire Ink made was warm. The boys were hungry enough not to care, anyway. Ink was lying on his stomach, perpendicular to the fire. Amos sat just behind him. He tossed a thin bone into the fire and watched it burn.
"Ink, I think something's wrong with me," Amos said.
Ink belched, then rolled over and looked at Amos expectantly to continue.
"Ever since I had that dream, I haven't been hearing Aquila in my head anymore."
"He's a spirit. Maybe he passed on."
"I don't think so. I want to go back to the Infinite Lake and check if he's there. It's possible that I have to refresh the connection with him if I want to maintain contact."
"Do you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Aquila is nasty. He says mean things and tries to get you to kill people."
"He's hurt, Ink. I stole his body. His life. He has a right to be angry at me and I have a responsibility to fix this."
"Hm."
"Besides, I'm not sure how my dual Drai status would work if the second soul within me disappeared. Would I still have the powers or not?"
Ink rolled back over, put his face in the ground and covered his ears. "Too much Drai talk," he said into the dirt.
Amos laughed and lay down by Ink's side. The warm glow of the fire gave him an ethereal appearance, highlighting the muscles on his back and subtly illuminating the ringed tattoos.
"Yakob was going to teach me how to read," Amos said softly.
Ink looked up. "He still can. You'll see him again."
Amos shook his head. "I need to learn soon. Will you teach me?"
"I can't read either..." Ink put his head back on the ground. A hint of shame touched his voice.
There goes that idea.
Maybe Ink's right about the hunter. We could be friends.
We need directions anyway.
I'm so lost.
Amos sighed and fell asleep there.
...
Amos didn't dream, but then again, he didn't sleep for long.
Without opening his eyes, he wiped away fat, thick droplets of rain that pooled on his face. There was a heavy pressure on his chest at two distinct points, making it hard to breathe. Thunder rumbled incessantly, grating against the soft crackling of the dying fire. The air was unusually humid. Not just humid - hot. It reeked of meat. Not the cooked meat the boys had eaten over the open fire, but the fetid smell of rotten flesh.
Amos' eyes leaped open. He froze. The largest wolf he had ever seen in his life was standing on his chest, lips bared to threaten with teeth the size of a hand.
The rain was not rain; it was dripping saliva. The thunder was its throaty growl, the humidity its rancid breath.
When Amos opened his eyes, the growl became more aggressive. Amos was too groggy to think logically, but chose the best course of action: Do nothing. He lay still, played dead, and the growling subsided. The wolf sat back on its haunches and looked off into the woods, licking its lips.
Amos could see that it was an injustice to call this thing a wolf. It was massive. Even sitting, its furry body rippled with the weight of its muscles. Where Ink was corded bulk, this thing had a lean strength. Now that its teeth weren't in his face, Amos noticed it had an extra set of eyes - four in total.
Dire wolf...
"Ink!" Amos hissed while the gigantic wolf was looking away, propping himself up on an elbow.
Ink stirred. However, at the sound of his voice, the dire wolf leaped onto Amos, pushing him back onto the ground once again. It snarled and snapped at him. There was an intelligence to its eyes - this was a warning.
"Friend?" Ink said hopefully.
Amos and the wolf stayed staring into each other's eyes, neither willing to move first, when a quiet rustling broke the standoff. From the forest emerged a man of medium build, who was best described as rough around the edges.
The man had an unkempt beard, keen eyes, and was clad in thick leathers. He wore small pelts on loops at his belt, a large hunting knife showing its serrated edge from behind them. Slung over his shoulder was a bow, accompanied by a quiver full of feathered arrows on his back.
"Well, well," the man said in a gruff voice as he appraised the scene. "What do we have here?"