I anxiously wait until nightfall, watching the yellow light becoming more orange throughout the day. The soft chirping of birds is an anxious calling that I’m wasting time. My fingers tap impatiently against the dirt wall, the only thought in my mind being how Tracker was kidnapped or worse, killed by now. In reality, I have no idea if he is alive or dead, and I also have no clue where this camp is except for it being nearby. By the time I do find it, it may be too late.

  Dammit, I should have gone with him!

  I feel so stupid for letting him go out on his own, especially with how important he is. He reassured me that it would be safe for him but I should’ve known better than to fully rely on his words.

  As the moon slowly begins to rise and the sun fades its last light, I dart out of the hole. The rush of wind carrying me light on my feet as I zig-zag through the forest in the night. I circle the perimeter, an alarm blaring in my head as the minutes pass by. I run in rounds, going out a few more meters every lap. My desperation only climbs more. Eventually, after thirty minutes of circling, I find a soft light glowing in the distance northeast of the hole.

  If that’s them, they are awfully close.

  We should have moved!

  I hold back the urge to punch the nearest tree at my gullibility, allowing myself to crouch and inch forward to the light.

  The first thing I see as I near the camp are groups of men. Normal looking men with leather armor and long, steel swords. They’re nothing like the red and orange claymores the Holy Knights carry. Some carry arrows and it looks like they are guarding the camp behind them. It’s set up by silk-woven tents, haphazardly stationed into the ground. A bonfire sits in the middle as at least eleven shelters surround it. A few men sit around the bonfire, maybe three, laughing. At the back of the camp, in between two tents, I spot three cages. Each holding a person.

  One of those people is a face I recognize.

  Tracker…

  He stands in his cage, a defiant look on his face. His hands grip the bars so hard that they look chalk white. From here, he doesn’t look injured.

  I sigh in relief.

  Good. There’s still a chance.

  I sneak closer, staying in the shadows just inches of the flame’s flickering light. As I creep around the camp, wondering faintly why there’s no extra guards or walls around, I manage to reach the cages.

  Tip-toeing around to the back of the seemingly metal prison, I look at the other ones. Mostly out of curiosity.

  The cage in the middle has Tracker. I know that for a fact. He hasn’t noticed me yet considering his back is still turned to me. I quickly observe my left to the one beside him.

  Inside is a humanoid creature of some sort. It’s hunched over, shivering. It looks to be bare, showing no signs of clothing. Its dark skin, as black as obsidian, seems to move involuntarily like a bunch of writhing worms. Its hair is silver and long and I notice small curved horns on top of its head.

  Okay, so voice, what’s this thing?

  It told me what the Razor Wolf was. I’m assuming if I ask directly it would tell me what this is, too.

  Ding!

  [Analyzing…]

  [Monster: Shifter!]

  [Threat Level: Minimum!]

  [Activation: Watcher!]

  [Info: Can Shift Into Anyone Or Anything At Will! Weak In Combat! Excellent In Agility And Mobility! Extreme Weakness: The Sun! Extreme Strength: Disguise!]

  I see.

  So that’s what Watcher’s power is like. Well, Nel did explain to me a while back that Avalon can tell what monster you are and your weaknesses and strengths. Does this mean that Shifter is average in everything else? Or are there hidden things that The Watcher doesn’t tell me?

  I look at Tracker, using the same ability on him.

  [Monster: Hunter!]

  [Info: Can Easily Track Anything With The Combined Senses Of Smell, Sight, And Enhanced Hearing! Target Can Also Cover Their Tracks With Ease! Extreme Weakness: The Sun! Extreme Strength: Smell!]

  For a man with such a sense of smell, it seems he can’t scent me from a few feet away.

  I huff with annoyance and look into the other cell. Before I can take a peek, I hear a familiar voice whisper to me.

  “New blood, is that you?” Tracker whispers, his back still facing me.

  “Who else would sneak this close to the camps near Aralin borders?” I hissed, sharply turning to him. His back is still facing me annoyingly. “We should have moved, Tracker. They’re too close.”

  “I thought I could free them,” he whispers back, his voice layered in quiet frustration. “And I wanted to see what they were up to,” he admits under his breath.

  I narrowed my eyes on him.

  So, this wasn’t just checking things out?

  I shake my head solemnly. “Well, you got captured instead,” I sneer. “I should have dragged your ass back to the hole as soon as you went out.”

  “That wouldn’t have stopped me, you know that.”

  I sigh, defeated. “You’re just risking us both.”

  “I would have gotten out on my own,” he argues. “And there’s still more I need to see.”

  My eye twitches. “I don’t get you tonight.”

  I inch forward, activating Ice Warlock to freeze the bars. The bars slowly expand under the freezing pressure. I incase them partially with an ice shield as they explode. I wince, taken aback by the loud pop but besides that, the shrapnel didn’t get anywhere important. I watch with curious eyes as all the shattered pieces stick into the ice.

  As the shield melts, I notice Tracker looking at me with wide eyes.

  “You hear that?” A voice cries ahead of us.

  “Yeah! It was near the cages. Let’s check it out!” Responds another.

  I urged him. “Come on!”

  Tracker steps over the shattered metal, hesitating as he glances at the remaining cells. I back away into the sheltering shadows, hoping not to be seen. As Tracker runs after me, I faintly hear shouts of more men.

  “One of them is missing! Check the woods!”

  Shit.

  “Let’s go.” I grab his arm, pulling him into cover. “Now!”

  “Fine,” Tracker grits.

  We turn to leave, running into the cover of dark greenery and thick trees until the voices fade against the wind. Tracker, I notice, lags behind. I glance behind me to make sure he’s keeping up. I don’t want the potential of losing him again. He manages to tag along, albeit keeping his distance.

  Doesn’t he realize how important this is to make sure we both stay alive? Has he forgotten our deal? I try not to let my anger boil as we finally make it back to the dug-out.

  The relief of seeing our temporary home doesn’t settle my worries.

  “We should leave,” I suggest, stopping in front of the entrance.

  “They don’t know where we are,” Tracker tiredly reassures. “We should be fine.” He stops in front of me with crossed arms. His gaze is sharp and I can see subtle fire in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have freed me. I had a plan.”

  I growl, anger rising in me. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have lied to me. Maybe you should have told me you planned on getting kidnapped. Is that what you were planning? You know how risky and idiotic that is?”

  “What do you know, new blood?” He snarls, baring his teeth. “You’re only a few weeks old. You don’t know how these things work.”

  The memory of my late father refusing to tell me anything grazes my mind. How frustrated I was and am that I truly don’t know what world I awoke into, who I was before, or the mysterious ability I have. All I have been told was how some social things work between monsters and abilities. I was essentially thrown into a world with no real guide. Just some vague advice and how strange and dangerous I was.

  It causes the anger to rise within me, making me snap my eyes to him with a look that froze him in place. The emotions burst through as I bare my teeth back, letting out a low growl.

  “Then maybe you should tell me,” I nearly shouted, frustration sizzling on my scalp. “I don’t get anything right now! All I’ve been getting so far is vague information and I’m still learning!” Rage builds in my head as my words grow more fierce. The silent frustration of the past few weeks boiling over. “And if you told me earlier what you were planning and why, I would’ve helped you out. Of course I don’t know how things work! I don’t even know how my ability works! How do you expect anyone to know anything if you don’t inform them?!”

  Guilt shines in his eyes as he backs down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it when you’re purposefully lying to someone who you’re supposed to trust!” I snap. “You should have told me, Tracker.”

  “You’re right. I should.” He looks down at his feet briefly, a frown beginning to form on his face. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  Do I have to yell for him to get it though?

  I shake my head, an angry grimace still stained on my features. My anger eventually dies down, but my mind is still riddled with emotions. I huff dejectedly. “Just tell me everything that you know. Please. And what your plan is,” I exasperate.

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  “I will,” he nods. “I’ll tell you once we sit down.”

  I nod, still dissatisfied. “I can’t believe you did that,” I mutter as I turn and walk into the entrance.

  He doesn’t respond. We sat adjacent to each other near the entrance. He leans against the wall, the guilty look on his face as plain as night.

  “So, should I start from the beginning?” He chuckles softly, worrying lines creating wrinkles on his forehead.

  “Preferably,” I drawl. “You’re talking to someone who literally has amnesia,” I snap, crossing my arms.

  “Okay then. Sorry.” He sits up, adjusting his bottom deeper into the dirt ground. As soon as he gets comfortable, he lets out a sigh. “Do you know who Ra is?”

  Ra…

  The name that the voice mentioned before? It said Ra’s blessing when I was in Nel’s den. Is that a god or something?

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Ra is the creator of this realm. Rules over this dimension with little to no interference. When she once did generations ago, it was only because of war.”

  “A war?” I ask with a hint of curiosity.

  “Yes. A war against the other gods who wanted to claim her realm,” he answers.

  “There’s more than one god?”

  “Many,” he nods. “But all of them have their own realms or none at all. You see, a god needs followers. People believe in them so they can exist. Without Ra, this world we live in will disappear with her.”

  “So what does this have to do with the war?”

  “There was a god, Samus, who wanted this realm to be his own. Textbooks don’t reveal why, unfortunately, but they did say that Ra took immediate action, creating angels out of her own creations, humans, and using them to fight against him.”

  I raise my brow in intrigue. “Why couldn’t she fight them herself? She’s a god as well, right?”

  “She didn’t want to risk her own life. You can argue the moralities all you like, forcing her people into that position, but that won’t change the past. If she didn’t do that, we wouldn’t be here today.”

  Is that really a good thing? Becoming a monster by chance doesn’t sound like a good part of the deal package. Unless becoming a monster is fairly recent in history. That would explain some superstitions and the people of Trinity lack information on them. Partially because they kill them immediately, as Armen once mentioned.

  That question comes later though or with time. I’d rather get the initial history out first and then worry about the details.

  “So what happened next?”

  “With many souls gone during the battle against Samus, she eventually defeated him. With her remaining forces, she used them as a new position for something else. She kept them as her loyal servants. Each of them being eternal and all powerful compared to the remaining humans.”

  “So the angels Ra created are still around?”

  “I believe so. I’ve only read this in my early weeks. My creator was a philosopher, you see. I don’t know why he kept me after cursing me nor do I know how or why he did it in the first place. He never explained but he did try to help me get back on my feet despite my position.” He cast his eyes down, a heavy weight of sadness flowing in them. “I think he tried to make up for what he did by education. It’s a shame the Holy Knights found him and executed him.” He looks back up at me, his eyes twinkling subtly with amusement. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear this monologue.”

  I shake my head, understanding his situation. “It’s fine. I woke up to my father. He didn’t curse me. It was a woman who was immediately killed. My father tried to protect me but…” I hesitate, wondering if I should mention that I killed him.

  Would he take it the wrong way? Truly, why should it matter? We are helping each other after all and probably for a while. If I tell him now, maybe it will branch out to more avenues in the future… Or would he just care about killing Avalon and his crew.

  I shake my head again, wiping the thought from my mind. “Why are you helping me? Are you really just wanting me to help you kill Avalon? You can just leave any time. You know the way there. Why waste your time doing all of this?”

  Tracker’s eyes shot up to mine, his eyes widening briefly. He soon regains his posture, giving me a laid back look. “Loaded question,” he laughs softly. “I just want to help, and may I remind you of your mysteriously dangerous power,” he answers nonchalantly. “You also remind me of someone.”

  “Who do I remind you of?”

  A soft smile rolls on his lips. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need to go over history.”

  I frown briefly but give a sharp acknowledgement with a confirming hum.

  “Right. Where did I leave off before my reminiscing… oh! Yes! The angels are still around, or so people believe. The angels were one of the reasons humans were introduced to magic. Coming down to socialize with us, they did as all mammals do and created the inferior versions of themselves, mages. Or magicians if you prefer. Along with that, they seeped their newfound power into the earth with the bodies of their deceased soldiers that died in the previous war. With magic in the picture, it also led to curses. Us becoming monsters is a result of people descendant of angels, and from what I can tell, most are by accident while few others are on purpose. But this is also from hear-say.”

  So that woman who cursed me may have done it by accident and died for it?

  It’s a tragic story and I sort of feel guilty about it. These are people born with this ability that can be a danger and those who make a mistake are put down. The others proven to be useful are powering electricity for the palace. Unless they are treated more like people than I thought. But I never met a magician.

  “So why aren’t magic users worshiped? They descended from angels. Shouldn’t they be important?”

  “For Aralin, yes. They respect the magicians. For Trinity, no. They think all magicians are evil thanks to inherent superstition. Angels are harbingers for the people of Trinity due to fear of the end times because of history. They see them as an omen and their children more dangerous. Trinity enslaves them and since there are more humans than them, they are easily overwhelmed.”

  “So what about Aralin?”

  “They worship them. They’re leaders, kings, and nobles. They are accepted and no slavery resides there. The only downside are monsters and the ones who wield curses that can turn people into monsters.”

  “Are you telling me that some people turn into monsters because specific magicians wield it?”

  “My creator told me this so yes,” he answers earnestly. “So when someone curses another and the Holy Knights find out, they terminate them. Even if they didn’t mean to. This involves not just turning them into a monster but also spreading the plague through their victims which is created by magic.”

  “Wow,” I mutter. “That’s…”

  “A lot, I know. Now, I think it’s time we take a break. I’m sure you need it after tonight. I’m also sorry for not telling you my plan. I’ll be sure to tell you tomorrow.”

  “It’s fine, as long as you communicate with me next time,” I began to lecture, the small annoyance blossoming at the reminder. “Please.”

  “I will next time. I should trust you more now, I know,” he smiles apologetically.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll go out to hunt now. I’m starving after being in that cell being fed crumbs. I’ll be back this time, I promise.”

  I gave him a suspicious look. “I don’t have to come with you this time, will I?”

  He shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, be my guest.”

  We both stand. I tug at my missing arm, an unconscious habit since I snapped it off the night prior. At the moment it’s an scarred stub, blackened from the burns and scabs and cut above where my elbow used to be.

  Tracker looks down at it as we exit, giving me a reassuring smile. “You can kill things in one touch. Do you really need two arms for that?”

  “Would be nice,” I sigh, sadness making my shoulders slump.

  Yes, it will heal to the next level up but how long will that take?

  “I’ll help you out if you need it,” he smiles.

  “Thank you,” I solemnly smile back.

  “Come on then,” he flicks his hand to the exit as we both walk outside into the night.

  ~

  The next night goes by slowly.

  I sit outside the dug-out, looking up at the visible constellation in awe. Purples and deep reds swirl slowly in the sky along with bright, small stars. The moon hangs just to the side, full and bright. The owls call around me as crickets chirp and soft wind whistles through the trees. I take my eyes off the cool sky and focus on Tracker standing in front of me. His back is facing my direction, his white hair sifting in the breeze.

  “So, here’s my plan,” he announces, but his voice is low and deliberate.

  ”Yeah?” I ask, waiting for him to continue.

  “My original goal was to check out what they were doing here. It’s not normal for camps to be completely away from Aralin hunting grounds and into the monster-filled wilderness.”

  “Is there a clear border here?” I ask, looking around briefly.

  “Nope. The strip of forests here is the border,” he replies. “These are untouched lands. Just as a warning, not everywhere is colonized. There are spaces on Agath, the name of this continent, that have sections of forests that stretch for miles. Want to know why?”

  “Yes.”

  It would be nice to know more about this place. It seems to be more than what meets the eye. It’s interesting with a scary side.

  “Magicians aren’t the only ones who carry magic. The trees do, too. The plants, the water. You ever wonder why some animals are cursed? Evolution, Talen. Mutation. These animals used to be regular wolves, but those who consume an abundant amount, more than they need, turn into powerful, mindless beasts. Humans don’t travel here because of the dangers it poses and how it forces them to adapt. They’d rather live in their own comfort and fear the unknown instead of being bold.”

  “So the Razor Wolves are just wolves who got too greedy?”

  “There’s magic in everything whether some people like it or not,” he answers. “It’s in your blood, your skin. Even humans can become monsters after overdosing on these things. Tell me, have seen any particular overweight people?”

  “No…”

  The only people I’ve seen though were my father, the doctor, the maids, and other monsters like myself. All were skinny or buff though. None of them striked me as big.

  “Because instinctively we know the rules. If you do see someone overweight, most people assume they don’t exercise, which is mostly true besides genetic cases. The world moderates. We’re all at the whims of balance and if we ever fall away with that, even us, we turn into mindless beasts. Did you notice the guy sitting beside me in the cage?”

  “The Shifter?”

  “Ah, so you know what it is?” He finally turns to me, interest shining in his eyes. “Tell me this, is that the ability of Avalon? Is that how you knew?”

  “Yes,” I admit. “Though when I did that it was the first time I used it.”

  “You’re a curious one. With the ability to absorb and kill others with a touch, you should be a full fledged, unthinking monster. That right there is a form of greed. You’re an anomaly.” He pauses, his eyes dimming in deep thought. “This has never been recorded… and I personally have never seen or heard of this. Maybe there’s more to you that meets the eye.”

  Maybe I should tell him about the voice…

  My thoughts are interrupted as he continues, “anyway, that shifter is the result of greed. Perhaps he consumed too much and his body, overridden with magic, ate itself. That moving black skin you saw? That’s magic in his physical form. An abundant amount in one area makes it visible, and by itself, it’s unseen.”

  “What about the person in the cage beside you?”

  I never got a good look at who was inside. Tracker must have seen them though since he spent a day and a night in that confined place.

  “They were quiet. Petite. Small. I noticed they had long, white hair, but I couldn’t get a look at their face,” he answers. “They looked fairly normal for a monster.”

  Sounds familiar, I think.

  “Do you plan on rescuing all of them?” I ask.

  “Maybe not the Shifter, but it could be used as a distraction.”

  “Right, there’s a lot of them.”

  The camp may not be full of holy knights but I never fought the normal men, or bandits. I don’t want to risk it though as few and weak as we are.

  “When do you want to hash this out?” I mutter in thought.

  “Possibly tonight,” he replies. “I overheard that they were planning to station there for another few days. I just don’t want to do it last minute.”

  “Why? There’s a risk?”

  “I want to eliminate any options they might have to capture more. I’m not sure why they’re capturing us, especially Arilithians. Maybe it’s for an experiment or sick profit. Black market?”

  “I’m assuming Aralin does not approve of slavery?”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “Must be some back alley stuff. That’s worse than slaying us on the spot.”

  “Why not slavery?”

  “Us monsters are a risk,” he replies sharply. “We were once human with curse magic running through our bodies. Anything can happen, even to us. It’s rare but they don’t want to risk it.”

  “I understand. So, tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” he confirms. “Now, I’m going out for a perimeter check. Want to come?”

  “Yeah.”

  I trust him a bit more now since our last hunting session but the bitter feeling of him going behind my back feels like a splitter in my palm.

  I stand, flicking my head to the woods. He walks up to me until we are at least a few inches apart. We both turn in unison and take our first steps, my eyes on him as he calmly looks ahead.