Death subsumes everything but stories.
The grim words of Farana's father had become her mantra, a litany for motivation she breathlessly repeated through cracked lips and dry mouth as she fled over dirt and stone and ash. Her legs pumped, white-hot agony lancing through them at every bound, but one had to put aside mortal limits when Death was on the hunt. It was only a matter of time before it caught her, but she would not let it be this moment or the next – Death would have to work for its quarry.
Death subsumes everything but stories. The mantra repeated, Farana ran, and Death continued its chase, bringing hell with it.
The infernal inferno bearing down on her had already choked the early twilight sky's purple and orange tones with grey smoke as it consumed the once-lush forest. Ash and embers, blown by chaotic winds across the treetops, blanketed the ground in a dark, perverted snow that stained Farana's once white and black fur grey. Each fallen ember birthed ravenous new fires, and the majestic, towering oaks that once promised safety went up in flames and collapsed to the forest floor.
Even with the fire bearing down, it was eerie how empty the forest was. The Devolved were usually teeming this deep into the dark masses of trees, but now there were none. Farana knew many of the small, feral creatures had underground dens scattered around they could hide in, while the larger ones likely retreated to the same destination she now headed. The unfortunate ones, she knew, had already been consumed by the blaze. She had smelled the sickening stench of burning fur and flesh. The smart ones, the civilized ones, never came to the forest in the first place.
Which was why Farana had made it her home. After all, who would be insane enough to live near an active mystery dungeon?
Pain flared from the deep gash in her right leg and the Pangoro grit her teeth. Blood trickled between her gums, drops sliding down the twig held between her teeth. Others seeped onto her tongue and rolled down her throat. Her heart pumped madly, her chest heaved with each smoke-laden breath and red spittle foamed on the blood-stained fur around her mouth, yet she did not stop running.
Pain and blood could be ignored. Exhaustion could be ignored. The dull ache of the deep bruises and burns of falling embers could be ignored. But Farana could not, would not, ignore the limp child wrapped under her right arm. The mantra was meant for him to hear – even if in the depths of unconsciousness.
She spared a glance at the child, knowing full well a fall now would forfeit their lives to Death. ' He reverted,' she realized, glimpsing the small ashen-gray form as it bounced like a stringless puppet underneath her arm. His tail and tuft of fur atop his head, both once tipped with a light yellow, were now as ashen-colored as the rest of him. His red eyes, once vibrant and filled with joy, remained shut – a good thing too, Farana knew, remembering how happy he used to be as he frolicked amongst the grass and trees of the now-burning forest.
' When did he last move?' Farana did not know the answer, and as the anxiety manifested as a dense pit in her stomach, she realized she did not want to know. The Pangoro took the deepest breath her smoked lungs would allow and pushed the pit aside – there was no time to think about his current state. She had to focus on reaching the dungeon, for both of their sakes.
A low rumble reverberated through her bones, and Farana felt her blood turn to ice as her eyes shot back up to the unburnt forest ahead of her. Over and under the roar of the blaze came unearthly growls, her eyes and ears swiveled as she tried to pinpoint the owner of those rumbles. Wood crunched, the light dimmed slightly, and Farana knew she was far from free.
Her weathered leather bag bounced against her thigh. She briefly felt the single weight within, relieved that it was still there intact, unbroken. She shifted the bag to a better place of safety against her back, anticipating the time she would need it.
Death's steed hunted her. The Beast. The chaos and destruction of the fire it had started was the perfect hunting grounds for that which devoured light and soul, scouring all hiding places and forcing her onto a path she could not escape.
Farana's burnt hand tightened into a fist, seeking the hot sensation of the ancient stone ring around her middle finger. It tingled with power that begged to be released, but Farana withheld her temptation. ' Not yet,' Farana thought, as if the ring could hear her. ' Not until that voidspawn's so close I can punch its head off.'
The short twig in her mouth suddenly twitched downward, and on instinct she dove into a roll. Sharp rocks and ash pierced into her skin and darkened her fur, but it was far better than the alternative. A heartbeat later and a dark beam silently cut through the space where her head used to be, followed by an ear-splitting implosion of air. Light dimmed and refracted as it was warped and absorbed by the beam, and Farana felt a bone-numbing cold run down her back.
The ring, sensing the infernal energy and an opportunity to engorge itself, glowed. An intense heat shot through Farana's middle finger. She bit her lip hard enough to split it and draw blood, but the pain was necessary. She needed every drop of energy the ring could absorb, and she needed it now.
There was a single moment in her roll where she caught a brief glimpse of the giant quadrupedal Beast hunting her in the moment. The only thing she could make out was two blazing red eyes, a glowing, dark-blue forehead and a five-pointed mane billowing around its head. The rest of it hurt to look at, her brain attempting and failing to process the near two-dimensional looking figure. The Beast's fur absorbed and trapped all light, making it darker than a starless night and rendering every edge and texture invisible.
And it was gaining on her.
Her eyes widened at the sight, breath hitching, before realizing that it was too close and fast to stop in its tracks. She finished her roll, resumed her run, and swung out her left arm at the nearest tree. Her muzzle twisted into a pained smile as the dense wood gave way and shattered at the impact of her muscled arm, and with a loud wooden crack the twenty foot tall trunk toppled to the ground. A small tremor shook the earth as the tree landed directly in the Beast's path, and Farana glanced out of the corner of her eye to see what the Beast would do. It snarled at the sudden obstacle, leapt to the left and disappeared into the smoke, no doubt seeking another ambush spot.
Farana let out a breath she did not know she held and used the brief reprieve to reorient herself. Her eyes looked forward and traced over the dozens, perhaps hundreds, of felled trees caught in the path of the beam, each one cut with a clean, horizontal slice across the trunk. Their once-healthy wood was rotten and desiccated, as if the very life it of it been sucked out. A shudder ran down Farana's spine, and she quickly looked up, wondering if some god saved her from the tree's fate.
If the gods still existed, anyway – not that she wanted or even needed their help.
A faint prickling sensation began to blossom across her skin as she ran – she was just at the edge of the dungeon's range. The Pangoro's dark eyes roamed the darkening horizon and sky for the telltale signs of her objective. It took only moments for her to spot it: a few degrees to her right, a few hundred feet away and a third of that high, the stomach churning and mind-bending dungeon was visible via the uncanny warping effect it had on the thick smoke and ash and light. The horizon shimmered and contorted as reality warped and twisted to the whims of the mind-bending abomination
There was no hiding something which existed against all known laws of reality.
A flash of a memory from long ago came to her mind, of a young, injured pancham racing away from a dungeon and its Devolved inhabitants with a terrified grin on her face. ' So much time spent trying to get out of anomalies, and now I rush into one without hesitation.' Farana chuckled at the irony and turned in the direction of the dungeon.
A quick glance at the child showed no change in his state. Her chest tightened, then relaxed at the somber thought of it being better he wasn't awake for all of this. He needed to be saved from what was coming – from both the encroaching Beast, and what Farana herself was planning. All it required was getting to the dungeon before the Beast did, and after that...
Farana's momentary dip into her own thoughts nearly ended the hunt. Her twig suddenly twitched again, this time to the right, and Farana's eyes widened before she leapt to the side. Another beam of dark, light devouring energy sliced through the air. The smell of ozone from imploding air burned her nostrils. Only a fraction of it caught her right shoulder, but it was enough to send her tumbling to the forest floor. She screamed at the surreal sensation of freezing and burning at the same time, her molecules drained of energy and the now-frozen cells bursting. She came to a stop several meters away, dirt and ash and rocks clinging to her skin and fur.
The Beast, delighted at its success, let out an excited roar that briefly overpowered the raging inferno. The wind picked up, blowing ore embers drifted onto Farana, a sign of the approaching wildfire still gorging itself on the forest.
The stone band around the pangoro's finger flared again, far hotter than before, demanding release. ' Not now!' Farana screamed in her mind, and the ring cooled.
She uncurled, moving the child against the thick fur against her chest, though it mattered little. Farana sat up and hissed at the fiery pain from her shoulder, the fur and skin gone and raw muscle exposed to open air, before her eyes widened at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.
' Fuck.' There wasn't enough time to get up and run before the Beast tore her throat out and consumed her soul. The ring warmed again. ' Fine,' she sighed mentally, giving in to the phantom desires of the ring, ' but you'd better hurt it.' Let the Beast come to her. Let it prepare to end her life, and when it got close enough…
The stone band crackled with inverted energy, conscious of what she wanted.
The Pangoro grit her teeth and tucked the child even deeper into her fur to protect it. She twisted her torso so her left shoulder faced the approaching Beast with the child at her back, then raised her left arm. Particles in the air appeared. A loud crash came from her left, and in the corner of her eye she could see the silhouette of the approaching Beast. She waited and watched, spotting a fallen branch that she chose as the point of release.
'Just a little more…' She could sense the tremor of the earth at each footfall. The light dimmed slightly, a world cast in false shadow during an eclipse. The Beast's maw opened, and Farana could see each gleaming fang shine in the light of the embers and the black-white glow of another beam. She held her breath, waiting for the attack.
There was no roar, no growl, no sound when the Beast charged, only a dark blur as it leapt at her.
The Pangoro opened her palm.
A tremendous whine filled her ears as a blinding wave of light sprung from her palm and smashed into the Beast's chest mid-air. In an instant its momentum halted and reversed. It sailed end-over-end a hundred feet away into the dirt, while the wave continued for another hundred feet before dissipating into stray particles that flashed as their half-lives ended. Dozens of trees burst into flame at the heat of the light, and dozens more fell smoldering to the ground as the wave cleanly sliced their trunks in two. The Beast writhed in whatever form of agony it felt. The front of its chest glowing white while small blue fires danced across its fur like leeches sucking away the darkness. Ear-piercing screeches and head-splitting roars erupted from its throat. It clawed at itself to snuff out the flames, letting dark fur fall to the ground.
If Farana had seen it she would've smiled. Unfortunately, every action comes with a reaction, and the mechanics of the universe are always in perpetual motion of balance. The instant the blast leapt from her hand, Farana found herself once again soaring through the air before crashing back-first into the ash-covered ground. This time she came to a stop chest-first into a felled tree, the impact knocking the wind out of her. The child slipped from her grasp and flopped lifelessly onto the ground, while her bag and its cargo thumped against her leg.
She lay there, head swimming and chest hitching to catch a breath. The ring was dead silent. Her breath gradually returned, and with a groan she rose to her knees, every muscle and bone moaned. A half-stifled cry erupted from her throat right as she tried moved her left arm, a quick glance revealed the unnatural angle and lump at her shoulder.
'Voidshit!' Farana knew instantly it was dislocated. Fixing it was out of the question – re-socketing the joint couldn't be done alone. She had no idea how much ground she had yet to cover to get to the dungeon, no way of knowing if the Beast had already recovered and was racing towards her now.
With a pained hiss she gently rolled over the child's limp body. She couldn't detect any obvious broken bones or bleeding, but internal injuries were a possibility. She had no way of knowing without her tools and supplies.
Farana winced, remembering how all of them had burned down with her house. The only items she took were the bag and the child.
Not that it mattered anyway. The dungeon… she had to get there, and then he would be safe.
Farana stood, hot tears forming in the corners of her eye, she secured the child underneath her arm. She took a moment to reorient herself, head swiveling and ears flicking, and for the first time in what felt like hours a glimmer of hope rose in her chest. The recoil and subsequent crash-landing had sent her further than she anticipated, and by a stroke of luck she was only a hundred strides or so from the edge of the mystery dungeon. The sky here was clear, the wind shifted and pushed away the black clouds. She was so close, her goal finally within reach…
A roar echoed from far behind her. Farana's composure dropped, the hope flickering like a candle at the end of a wick. Her mind explored the possibilities of the Beast catching up before she reached the dungeon: ripped into bloody ribbons, soul devoured, light forever trapped…
Death subsumes all but stories.
The mantra repeated. Farana's mind settled, the candle flame flickered alive and Farana's muzzle took on the hardened expression her kind was known for. She could do this. There was only a little further to go. She chomped down on her twig, took a deep breath, then tapped her last dregs of stamina and adrenaline. She set off on a limping jog towards the barrier. Blood pounded in her ears, her aches and pains faded away once more, and a strange sense of calm filled her mind.
A memory lifted itself from the depths of her mind, of the same young and furious pancham racing home to her father. How he treated her wounds while telling her of the nature of death and teaching her the mantra.
Farana glanced at the child. ' Are you proud of me, dad?' Deep down, she was not. She could have prevented all of this.
The memory faded as the trees thinned. The barrier was in reach now, only a dozen strides away now. The world beyond it appeared distorted and twisted, the trees and rocks inverted and warped into themselves. The prickling increased, like gravel moving underneath her skin and within her muscles. The roar of the flames was deafening, almost as if Death realized its prey was getting away.
Realities twisted and meshed, and Farana grunted, hearing what sounded like her father screaming. More sounds, then visions, symbols, lights, all uncanny and incomprehensible.
She crossed the barrier, and her mind quieted.
She dropped to one knee as rolling waves of nausea washed through her. ' Never could get used to these,' she thought. She remembered when her fortitude was not so strong, and she would convulse on the ground after crossing realities.
The nausea passed and the phantom prickling followed, her Life Energy tuning with the invisible fields of the Disturbance. For the first time in what felt like hours, Farana took a deep breath of unsullied air, the ash and embers having been atomized the moment they touched the barrier.
She looked about her at the forest inside the dungeon – tall trees, rocks and vibrant underbrush unscathed by the inferno and the beast. No ash no fire, no death.
To her relief, there were no tracks or corpses in sight – a good sign, for both were common marks of the Devolved, their minds feral and stomachs ever empty. Likely they had fled much further into the heart of the dungeon, unable to understand the true protection afforded by the dungeon.
A low rumble filled the air. She had to move fast – dungeons, especially ones of this size, were constantly fluctuating and altering their internal spaces, and one wrong step or a moment's hesitation would lead her straight to a pack of Devolved. The problem was finding the specific location she sought, lost somewhere within the ever-changing landscape.
Fortunately, Farana had a guide. The dormant stone band finally awoke and began to pulse specific nerves in her finger, 'pointing' her in the right direction like a compass built into one's body. She didn't exactly know how the ring knew where to go, but it had never let her down before, so she turned until the pulses 'pointed' forward and started deeper into the dungeon.
It was hard to tell how much time passed inside the dungeon. The eerie silence set her on edge, twig twitching here and there. She was tempted to hum a lullaby, but then remembered the only ones around to hear it would find her to be a tasty snack.
Little by little the density of the lush trees increased until she could barely see the darkening sky. Guided by the pulsing ring, she wound through the forest, over fallen trees, skirting steep edges.
It wasn't until she came around another bend in the trail that the ring vibrated to the point Farana though her finger would fall off. She stopped and the vibrations slowed. The pangoro turned to face a thick bracken. With a grumble, she pushed through it and stooped at the edge of a cliff. She sat down at the edge, and after a moment of hesitation slid down the hill.
She ended up in a stone-ringed clearing a hundred feet in diameter. Each giant boulder was expertly placed, not a hair line gap between them, each one so heavy Farana had pulled a muscle the first and last time she tried to move one. Their rough, uneven edges decried the perfect lines and circles carved into the stone – someone had designed them like this. At opposite ends of the circle was an opening, a stone lintel above each entrance.
She called it the Sanctuary. It was a dungeon within a dungeon, a formation that never moved, even as the space around it changed. Without a guide – such as the ring – it was impossible to reach, as it seemed to hide itself from anyone that searched.
Farana approached it, senses alert for any sign of Devolved or the Beast, but there was nothing, not even a susurration through the trees. She stepped through the entrance, and at the very center of the clearing she found the single, weathered stone slab.
This was where she would have to leave the child, and where she would say goodbye to the best years of her life.
Farana knelt in front of the stone slab and gently lowered the child. Her chest and throat tightened. Sobs threatened to rise, and a few managed to slip from her, breaking the muted silence of the space around her. She could not tell if her hands trembled due to her fatigue or from her emotions overwhelming her. Dirtied fingers tenderly caressed the soft fur of the child's face before she withdrew.
"Protect him," Farana said. There was no response – not that she expected one. She hoped that something, anything, was listening, but the universe was cruel. She leaned in close, breathed in his smoke-infused scent, then exhaled, ruffling the ash-covered fur on his forehead.
"Don't be afraid of death, Dusk," she whispered into his ear. "There is never a good day to die, only bad days to live." A kiss on the head, fresh tears dripping onto his fur.
There was no response from the child, and Farana would never hear one from him again.
Pain seared through Farana's left arm as she used the right to pull the ring off her finger. Painfully, she touched a series of points on it with a claw. A faint hum emanated from the ancient band; invisible lines breathed with a blue light. The Pangoro raised the child's cold foreleg in her enormous hand. The ring slipped down onto his limb, shrinking itself before settling.
The beacon was lit. Farana had faith it would be seen.
She stepped back and took in the sight of the young Zorua on the slab, wishing this moment could last forever. ' Just one more second,' she pleaded with the universe, and any god that could be listening. A distant, soul-stopping roar was the answer, and her tears fell. They were both out of time.
"Remember me." She burned the last image of the child into her mind, then turned and ran – away from her adopted son, and the future she wanted all her life.
She did not even try to go back up the hill, and instead forged ahead, praying she would somehow reach the barrier. Her bag thumped against her back, and Farana twisted it to her front, feeling the weight inside settle against her stomach. It was nearly time for her last resort.
As luck would have it, a groan rumbled through the ground, and Farana felt a strange twisting sensation permeate reality. One moment she was running through thick grasses and moist dirt, and the next she stumbled through the barrier, where hell awaited. Nausea briefly rolled through her again, and the pangoro coughed at the sudden smoke filling her lungs.
Farana had no frame of reference for where she was – not that it mattered anyway. She turned her head, taking in her surroundings, waiting for the Beast to find her. Above her, the deep twilight sky was drowned in billowing grey clouds. Behind her the barrier shimmered, her skin prickling in proximity to it, and in front of her loomed boulders and dozens of yet unburnt trees. They would not be so for long, for the fire was close, Death finally cornering its prey.
There was a metallic screech above. Farana jerked her head up and gasped. She stepped back at the two blue-white eyes, seemingly cut from gemstone, staring down at her. She could make out a silvery head and moon-shaped face. Brown and silver feathers coated the creature's body, and a glossy pink beak pointed at her.
There was something about the creature that tickled her memory, a picture from long ago in some book of her father's. But before Farana could recall it, the Beast felled several ancient oaks as it crashed through the tree line.
It's eyes flashing red, it's starry forehead blazing blue. Dozens of marks marred its body, oozing black liquid where the light from the ring had burned it.
Farana smiled a bloody smile. ' So the bastard can bleed after all.'
The creature above screeched again, and the Beast snapped its gaze at the tree. It growled deeper than Farana had ever heard, its body tensing and mane flaring. For a moment Farana wondered if the Beast knew what the creature in the tree was, before remembering she had a job to do. She crept to the nearest boulder, keeping a wary eye on the Beast, which still focused on the creature in the tree.
The pangoro lined herself so the great stone was in between her and her target, then slammed her fist into the rock. It exploded into hundreds of stone shards which whistled through the air, shredding trees and pulverizing stone. Dozens of shards smashed into the Beast, ripping its hide and drawing more of the black ichor. It loosed a guttural roar that rattled Farana's bones, then fixed her with a hateful glare.
The pangoro barely dodged the dark beam that screamed from the Beast's mouth. It still shaved off a patch of fur and skin on her shoulder and carved through trees behind her like a scythe through tall wheat. Farana turned and sprinted into the forest, towards the inferno, muscles straining. She needed to lead the Beast away from the Dungeon, where she could use her last resort. She reached a dirty paw into her bag, and gripped the orb inside.
She didn't notice the Beast drop from above until her twig flung upwards. The Pangoro dodged gracefully, and felt the dark paw slice through empty air where her head had been. The Beast was faster. Its other paw caught her in the lower back, parting leather, tissue and bone like a knife in water.
Farana screamed. The pain was cold and hot and deep. Her vision tinged with darkness as she went careening through trees. She skidded across rocks then came to a stop against a large boulder in a small clearing. The air was thick with smoke and the ground gray with ash; the inferno howled and raged only a few hundred feet in front of her, close enough her fur to smolder.
A deep groaned left Farana's throat, her brain finally catching up. Her left eye wouldn't open, and vision swam in her right. Her left arm was numb and, judging by the multiple new angles underneath the skin, broken in at least a dozen places. Her legs and back were no better, the former also numb and the latter cold. Even in her pain-fogged mind, she knew the sharp claws of the monster had cleanly sliced through her spine.
Miraculously, she still held the orb in her right paw.
She heard a snarl and the crunching of tree trunks, that telltale sign of the approaching light-devouring Beast. The blurriness in her eye receded, and she saw the Beast's star-shaped mane blow in the hot winds. It remained unaffected by the scorching temperatures and choking smoke. The fur that should have radiated light now seemed to suck in any unfortunate photon, the bright glare of the fire dimming as the Beast devoured it.
Farana took one last glance at the clear purple sky in the horizon, far beyond the clearing, where the broken moon was visible. Silhouetted against it was a large, dark form, one far bigger than the gemstone-eyed creature. A golden light on its chest blinked and she could faintly see two glowing red eyes. It swooped towards the mystery dungeon, no doubt homing in on the signal from her ring.
"So he did come after all," Farana chuckled ruefully. The smoke burned her throat, and she descended into a coughing fit. Her mind and body relaxed as it died down. For the first time in a long time, she had clarity.
A low, excited growl rumbled from the Beast as it came toward her. Its eyes pulled back in glee, its muzzle spread in a feral grin. The Pangoro looked down at the orb in her paw, mesmerized by the turbulent blue energy that swirled around a white core, and knew she was ready.
"Sorry Cory. You're on your own."
The Beast, roared and leapt, claws extended and jaws wide open to bite her head off and devour her soul.
A smile crossed Farana's muzzle, and she crushed the glowing orb in her paw. Her nerves sensed the briefest feeling of overwhelming heat and light, and then the world went black.