The camp was still in uproar, too many subtle and not so subtle shifts in the status quo for the spiritual receptive Wyldlings to ignore when I threw myself on my bedroll. Heavy thoughts rolled through my mind. Decisions and consequences. I was playing a part in a calamity that was in the process of ripping two cultures apart. My culture, overthrown and subjugated by uncivilized hordes of black magic using, people sacrificing followers of darkness. And the Wyldlings, who had respected strength above all, creating a monster in the process they could not handle anymore, who changed their ways after his own desire. And in the middle stood a young man that had accidentally released the Dragon of fucking Darkness to the world, to whatever end that may lead to. I needed information. People that knew more than me or the people I had met, who were at least as isolated as me if not more so.

I began breathing in a deep and calming rhythm, preparing myself for the meditation. As I felt my mind to reach the sweet spot of hanging between awareness and nothing, I willed my mind to enter my Demesne. Everything looked as if I had just left it.

"Lily?“ I asked because I could not see her anywhere.

The light, usually so spriteful and jovial, slowly floated over the thick grass on my cliff to me.

"What a week.“ she muttered. "This place was a mess.“

"I can only imagine. What happened?“

"What they call the song of the Wyld. It is not really a psychic attack, but it affects your mind, simulating a sensory overload. I have never heard of such a thing. This place was wild, I tell you. I shut myself off, once you were in that box.“

"The Wyldlings believe to be able to read those visions or whatever. To glimpse truths about the past and future. Truths hidden in their madness. There were a few things Kara and the Mad King said that indicate some truth to their claim. How can this be?“

"Maybe it is not related to the visions per se, but to the madness they induce? Or we do not understand what the song of the Wyld is, exactly.“

"Well, I certainly do not want to ever experience that again. I would not wish to walk their paths.“

"Well, if you ever wanted to learn, I guess you are in the right place. How useful would knowing the future be?“

"That is a price I am not willing to pay. I came close to madness once or twice. That is enough for me.“ I changed the subject. "How much Essence do we have to work with?“

"527 Ep and 32 Shards.“

"So little? I felt like swimming through blood and intestines to reach the Mad King.“

"Yes. You kind of did. But that is not how gods are born. Or few are. They say the fastest way to grow is in war. Hunting beasts only gets you so far. The trick is to hunt the right beasts. Those mighty enough to reward you for the hunt alone and those with enough of a story to gather interest by whoever controls the system, rewarding you with titles. An do not forget that I spend 5 EP a day just to keep your body from mutating.“

"I have received very few titles recently, that is true. Do you know why? I don’t feel like the struggles I have to go through have lessened in any way, shape, or form.“

"That is because it is not your story you fought for. You helped a remarkable Wyldling find his true path and meddled with spirit totems that are not yours. You are a footnote in the stories they will leave behind for their people. Considering that, your growth is still impressive. You have been fighting a lot. And Skills and Essence are not everything. Your skills and what you learn is just as important. I do not know if your fighting style has improved, or if you even have one, from here it looks a lot like jumping, punching, and being punched back, but the exposure to hostile cultures, living in the Wyld, experiencing the unknown, and the strange...I could go on. It is these experiences that shape a man. Not if he can lift a stone heavier than should be possible or if he can shoot lightning out of his ass.“

We chuckled. "I am scraping by. Barely. Since the labyrinth under the forgotten city, where I hunted the skeletons, which was the last time I felt in control. Let us put our minds together on how to change that.“

I grabbed the book of Skills from the shelf in the tree, looking at the mostly empty pages. [Unchained Anchestors]. A Gift that would let me communicate with my ancestors. I had gotten that from the fight with the Regicide. No. No speaking of him. He was a problem for another day. But the Gift...could be anything from useless to priceless. To much risk. [Soulrend]. Yeah. Well. No. No souls to rend but my own [Flock of Souls]. [Sense Corruption] and [Cleanse Corruption]. I read the descriptions in my book carefully.

Those were Skills of [Druids]. And that meant that corruption was determined from a [Druids] point of view. Corruption of nature was everything they deemed unnatural, not part of the cycle of life. Yes, I could find and fight the corruption of darkness with those skills. And maybe I would desperately need that. The Mad King certainly seemed to think that way. but would it help me travel the Broken Lands? Would it help me fight the Wyldlings, the Shattered Sea Slavers, and Barak Bloodbraid himself? I doubted that.

One more round at the Fulcrum, trying to find a Skill that would magically solve all my problems? I had no Shards, but I could still sell [Soulrend]. Or use my favor with the Jester to get something big.

What about a Gate to the Wanderer‘s Demesne? I could learn there, I could ask for help. But I would have no Essence to spare to actually weave a Skill. It would just be moral support, I guess.

"Remember the two biggest strengths of Twice-Born, Hannibal.“ Lily was over my shoulder, looking at the Skills with me. "Number one: Core Skills. The most basic Skills imaginable, but so very important, versatile, and powerful. And you can upgrade them without problems. Get [Improved Strength] level 10 and you can punch every obstacle away. Better than any Skill you can think of, I reckon. Number 2: You are no slave to the class system. You have options and can create your portfolio of powers tailored after your needs, strengths, and weaknesses.“

"So, you say Core Skills then?“

"Either that or you try playing a wildcard. [Unchained Anchestors] is damn expensive. 800 Ep. But If you dump everything in your Paradigm there is a good chance of some advancement in that regard. I mean the Wanderer will have something in his Paradigms to travel dangerous areas, no?“

"I am not so sure. He had [Pathfinder] and [Ranger] as alternative options for me. I guess those cover the traveling part. [Freeman] is a bit too out there to assume it would help me here.“

"But it is a Paradigm that is designed to be free, stay free and free others. And that is exactly what you plan to do.“

"True, true. But no, I have not enough Essence to risk the unknown. Core Skills and Mana. I am always desperately low on Mana.“

What would help me the most? Shards I would save up on. Level 2 on every Core Skill had a base cost of 200. I would go with two Core Skills on Level 2 and the rest Mana? I discussed the matter with Lily in detail, until I had cemented my decision.

[Improved Strength] Lvl. 2 and [Improved Agility] Lvl 2. It would help me travel and it would help me swing that damn heavy sword I carried. My unity wasn‘t what it used to be, so I was left with 23 Ep after I had spent the rest on 12 points of Mana. I wanted some EP to spare, so Lily could stop the mutations for a few days if I was not able to hunt in the Wyld.

The weaving was arduous and long-winded but I still managed to catch a few hours of real sleep before the sun rose to its zenith.

It is hard to describe how the Core Skills changed me. [Improved Strength] made me carry my backpack with ease, my step was quick and light. I had no problems stepping even on the steepest rocks, where before I would have made a detour for an easier way. With level 1 I had still not been able to carry Cogar for example, or even drag him out of the mud of the Wyldmarshes without exerting myself and reaching my limit fast. Now that would be different. I still would not be able to throw him around, but if it came to it, I could drag him through the swamp to the Mad King on my own. Moving was just...an effortless pleasure. [Improved Agility] was even harder to grasp. There was a grace in the way I even walked, balance was easier and there was a certainty in me that I could now handle sudden movements. Falling, tumbling and landing jumps did not scare me as much anymore. It was confidence of the body if I had to define it.

I left the Mad King and the others as soon as I had my tent rolled up and stored in my chest. I traveled even lighter now. My backpack only held a bit of this and that and the daily ration of food and water. And a rope, of course. And I wore the scale of the Dragon of Life around my neck, spreading blissful silence in my mind.

By now I had traveled the wilderness enough to know that you made your miles with consistency and endurance and not with speed, so I set out at a steady pace. Instead of rushing ahead, I listened to the sounds of nature. I had learned a lot, but the wildlife was strange here and what seemed harmless could easily be deadly. And I wanted to be more mindful. I had seen Kara and Tonja in the woods. They had circumvented danger, even used their surroundings and the creatures to their advantage in trapping me with ease. I had a month of travel in the wilderness ahead of me unlike any other on the face of this world. To live, I needed to learn.

The Mad King had been safety, as safe a place as could be under the circumstances, but I had been restless and on edge nonetheless, pretty much the whole time. There had been too much unknown and too much strange for me to relax. There was time running out on me, there were people depending on me, only one of them known to me, to be fair. For them to live, I needed to move.

Everything I had heard about my enemy so far, as far fetched as the stories seemed to be, or as unreliable its sources, pointed towards a man, I was in no way prepared to fight. Barak Bloodbraid could very well be the very man who killed my father. It had been dark magic that toppled the walls, burying the Bulwark under the rubble. I was not quite sure about the timeline. How long had I been I dead? How many days had I lost in the darkness of the Abyss? It was neither autumn nor winter here, but could I be sure of how far away they were? Had it been months since the Last Flight of the Raven? Bloodbraid was the strongest [Shaman] of a generation, he had walked the Wyld to its end and began the ascent of the Snake Clan with his very own hands. Could he have traveled from the mountains to the coast, get a ship, take slaves, and return to his source of power? Yes, he could have. There was a lot you could do in the 6 months of spring and summer, especially with the kind of power he had. And I had no way to beat him, except for murdering him in his sleep with a good bit of luck. To fight and live, I needed to grow.

The woods, generally speaking, were familiar territory for me by now. I certainly preferred it over the treacherous waters of the marshes. Moving silently and carefully was second nature to me, skills honed in the endless tunnels of the Abyss. As were my keen eyes and ears. As I had done in the darkness, I just treated the Wyld the same way: every noise and every movement would be categorized as dangerous and deadly. I had brought my days worth of traveling behind me, so I spend the twilight of the day hunting after I had my camp secured and the fire prepared.

I followed grunting noises, taking seconds of stillness between every one of my steps, over a small ravine to an area where the trees were not so close together and the undergrowth was not thick enough to hinder any maneuvering. The nature of the trees, lots of dry and leafless branches on the ground level, made climbing them a noisy business, so I tried sneaking over the twigs on the ground. It was so still, I heard every clink of Zero and every breaking twig, not doubting for a second that my prey would hear the same. But as luck would have it, the pigs I found seemed unafraid. I say pigs because they had the nose to prove it, but there were sharp tusks on the front and quills on the back, looking jagged and mean.

There were five of them. A mating pair, I assumed, with three freshlings. As they finally turned on me, the two big ones in the front, ushering the small ones to the back, bristled their quills, which rose up behind their head to a fan of sharp and pointy things. My sword was too clumsy and big for the woods, so I had the Ravenbeak at the ready, Zero already snaking away from me, to come in from another angle.

There was a silent moment while everything just waited. Then the pigs shot their quills at me. Not only was there a surprising force behind them, but they also followed my movement as I dove to the side. I activated [Stonehide]. The danger of the quills laid in their ability to dig into flesh and get stuck there. They were unable to penetrate the layer of stone around me. But the stone itself slowed me down so that when I got up again, the pig slammed into me with full force. The tusks struck around my waist, scraping over stone at first, but as the pig threw his had back, and me away, the tusk ripped the stone away, but luckily only pushed the chainmail into my flesh without drawing blood. That would be one hell of a bruise. Those tusks were enormous and could easily rip my belly up. I managed to catch my fall and be ready for the second adult, who rushed at me, breaking branches and smaller trees in his way.

I was hindered, but still faster than the pig and pivoted around the charge, hammering down with the Ravenbeak and [Ghoststrike]. The hammer missed the head and impacted somewhere in the mass of quills, the [Ghoststrike] hit even later, grazing the back, where ice-crystals froze flesh. There was a painful yelp, as the pig stumbled under the force of its charge and the suddenly jerking legs, finally crashing to the ground. No more playing.

I followed the crashing pig, jumping over the quills and landing the spike of the Ravenbeak in one of its eyes. Two more strikes to the face finally broke the skull and my hammer found the soft tissue of the brain, spraying it around everywhere.

[Quillbeast Boar defeated! Reward 6 Ep]

The other pig had been felled as well. It had followed its mate into the trap Zero had laid out, lying in wait, tripping it up as it stormed after me. The fight was over in seconds, as the freshlings fled the scene and I finished off the fallen creature.

[Quillbeast Boar defeated! Reward 6 EP]

I could handle the days in the Wyld, as long as I stayed away from those trap laying spiders.

The night fell over my camp and I stood ready with the fire at my back. I was not sure that the fire would still protect me from the Nightmares, so deep into the Wyld. Cogar had not known either.

The woods grew significantly more violent at night. The sounds spoke of struggle and pain, predators challenging each other and preying on whatever else stalked through the trees. A night in the woods was downright terrifying. But the Nightmares respected the fire and stayed away. I was relieved but dared not close my eyes for even a second. I had the burning of watching eyes between my shoulder blades the whole time. Something was out there. I first thought of Kara’s threat to follow me, but surely she would have to respect the nights as well, did she not? The unease never left me.

I marched, hunted, and stood guard around a fire for one more day and night until my body yearned for more substantial rest. I had nowhere to go, so I climbed a tree and bound myself to the highest branch that still would hold me, closing my eyes under the protection of Zero, who would be holding me steadfast and watching over me at the same time. I had fires placed around the tree and had Zero waking me every hour to replenish the wood.

The second time I woke that night, with blurry eyes and muddy thoughts, I saw something standing at the edge of the light. I saw a body of darkness, not even the light of the flames touching it, melding into the surrounding undergrowth but for a skull of an animal, staring at me with hollow sockets, crowned with antlers throwing wild shadows over the trees. It was absolute silence, not a whisper in the night or leaves. Until the specter vanished so abruptly, I doubted my senses. I even made sure I still had the amulet of ember hanging around my neck.

In the few days of travel, it took me to leave the woods, I never saw the likes of that thing again, but I felt watched and followed. I reduced the time I spend hunting and increased the speed of my marching because I wanted to leave the constant twilight and shadows of the forest as fast as possible.

There it was, the sweet light of sunshine glimmering through the trees. I could see the forest opening up, a hundred feet ahead. The end of the endless twilight, the end of the endless trees.

A howl tore the silence apart.

Slowly, with cool arrogance in his gaze, a wolf stepped around a fallen tree. Red eyes glowed in contrast to the fur that was black and long. The wolf was huge and just stared at me. Standing in my way.

I heard the rustling of leaves and breaking branches and twigs around me. Others rushed through the twilight at the edge of my vision. Circling me. Herding me. Red eyes glared while the howls filled me with primal fear.

I saw the light ahead dim even more, as I could see how tendrils of plants entwined themselves between the last trees of the forest, growing supernaturally fast, barring my way completely, as far as I could see in the undergrowth. I was surrounded by the wolves, who still held their distance and just watched me, unmoving as soon as they had surrounded me.

Suddenly, cold seeped under my cloak, frost covered the ground and I could see my breath forming clouds in the air. And through the circle of wolves stepped the creature of that frightful night, darkness woven into a body, the head a skull of a deer with antlers as majestic as they were terrifying. White and cold as the winter.

A rasping voice chilled my bones. A gust of wind carried his words and pulled at my cloak. I felt the earth rumbling under his will. "No one leaves the Mad King‘s forest without his permission. Death awaits all who dare try.“

Another rasping laughter behind me, another creature laughing. A body muscular and strong with a golden-haired hide. Another Skull of a deer, hatred burning in the hollow sockets with the heat of summer. "I had forgotten how good that feels.“ The voice spoke to me. "Hunting. Stalking. Feasting. Ruling.“

Then there was a third. Young green leaves and plants growing over the hide and antlers of the thing with the young and tender energy of spring. The skull was vibrant with color. His voice was dead as well, but there was a hint of playfulness. "Nature gives no favors, nature knows no mercy. It just is. Terrible struggle and majestic beauty.“

Finally a fourth one. The warm and kind voice of the Mad King, I had gotten used to. He walked through the circle of wolves as well, a man of flesh and bones, dirty and rugged, with the same antlers that formed a crown over his hairs I knew, now seeing the resemblance of them to those of the three others. He smiled at me sadly through his unruly beard.

"And yet it is autumn that rules the cycle and the forest this time of year, as young as I may be.“ he declared sternly, as he faced the others in the circle, walking until he stood in front of me, shielding me from the dead gazes of the skulls. "And you three speak out of turn.“