The quiet crackling of the fire was the first sign that sleep was ending.

  Corin’s left eye opened first, as the right was hidden behind an arm.

  The distant call of the forest dwellers urged the brain into motion.

  Something changed last night, but the details remained hidden behind a wall of brain fog.

  “Come help me with this.” An unfamiliar voice blew away the mental fog.

  Corin sat up instantly and searched for the old man — for Vrakhu.

  Vrakhu was kneeling beside the hollow. His hands clasped behind his back, his hair hiding his face from view.

  But Corin didn’t need to see his face to know the old man was watching Corvin sleep.

  “What are you doing?” Corin stood up and rushed to the old man’s side, arriving only a few seconds after he’d woken up.

  He didn’t visibly react to Corin’s approach and instead kept his eyes fixed on a part of Corvin’s torso.

  “Roll your brother onto his back and move his arms to his sides.”

  “Why?”

  Vrakhu said nothing.

  He kept his eyes locked firmly onto the spot on Corvin’s torso.

  Corin felt a feeling of unease bubble forth.

  What was he looking at?

  “But… But I’m not supposed to wake him if he’s sleeping. He’ll get mad.”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  “But…” Corin looked back and forth a few times. Trying to decide whether to do as Vrakhu said or let Corvin rest. “What if you rolled him over? He can’t get mad at an adult.”

  Vrakhu blinked, then slowly turned to meet Corin’s eyes. “I can’t touch him. You must be the one to do it.”

  Corin reflexively grimaced, then took a cautious step towards Corvin.

  It took a few shoves to get him moving.

  His body was likely half again as heavy as Corin’s. The fact that he was asleep only made his weight more apparent, but he was eventually rolled over like an old log.

  Once he was safely on his back. Corin moved his arms to his sides and tucked his larger hands into the small pockets of his trousers.

  “There. How’s that—Ah,” Corin gasped while looking down.

  A dark purple mark had appeared on Corvin’s chest sometime in the night.

  It wasn't there yesterday. Was it?

  “A toxin of some kind. Likely from an insect.” Vrakhu spoke without looking away from the purple mark.

  “What do we do? Is he going to die? He won’t die right? He can’t die—” Corin’s mouth moved faster with every word until the words tangled up and dried out beneath Vrakhu's cold gaze.

  “He won’t die.” Vrakhu stood smoothly and brushed the dirt from his pants. “I’ll find medicine for him.”

  Corin reached out to grab Vrakhu’s hand — Only for his hand to move before they could connect.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I- I just-” Corin sucked in a shaky breath and looked away.

  It’s fine. Don’t cry.

  The adults don’t like it when you cry.

  Vrakhu bent to look the child in the eye. “Don’t apologize for this. Ask your question.”

  “Hup… What-what should I do?” Corin watched Vrakhu’s blurry face through wet eyes and long eyelashes.

  The old man didn’t seem to be angry, or anything else really.

  He was completely unreadable to those moon-like eyes.

  “As you have been. Watch him and look after my bag while I’m away.” Vrakhu turned away from Corin’s expectant look and took several steps towards the forest. “Do not open the bag while I’m away.”

  Corin flinched as if the words were a slap to the face.

  A pit of anxiety appeared in the depths of Corin’s stomach as Vrakhu’s silver hair vanished into the shadows of the forest.

  “Come back quickly… Please.”

  Vrakhu wandered farther and farther from the twins; guided by the voices of the forest and the light of the rising sun.

  The slight, almost ethereal twinkling energy of the plants and animals felt like a child’s laughter to his senses.

  He respected the voices around him by walking without a sound. His own energy was imprisoned by his greater will. Preventing it from disturbing the peace he found here.

  Half an hour after he started walking. Vrakhu slowed and turned his gaze towards the top of a skinny tree with long, slender leaves and vibrantly colored fruit; the spherical berries hung low, heavy with juice and sustenance.

  The tree was taller than any of its neighbors, paler than them, and looked quite out of place among the pines.

  Vrakhu pushed off the ground and leapt up its branches to the highest point and sat on a particularly sturdy branch.

  With his body angled to watch the rising sun. Vrakhu plucked one of the leaves from the branch and began stripping it.

  He systematically claimed twenty of the oddly shaped leaves and used them to weave a small, handheld basket.

  He lightly tapped the sides of the basket to test its sturdiness.

  Once he was satisfied it wouldn’t fall apart under a strong breeze, he pushed himself off the branch and worked his way back to the ground.

  He landed softly on the forest floor and turned to face the tree. He placed the basket between his hands and bowed to the tree, thanking it for its sacrifice.

  He felt a slight tingle.

  The energy traveling through the tree’s roots sped up; as if the tree was excited to be thanked by a human.

  Vrakhu turned from the tree and continued walking towards the rising sun.

  He would occasionally grab a handful of weeds or use his nails to scrape some moss or bark from a tree. However, he never seemed to prioritize one thing over another.

  If something called out to him; he took it.

  If it ignored him; he let it be.

  And in turn, the animals of the forest acted as if he wasn’t there.

  Even while he walked, small mammals climbed up his body to leap into the branches of the trees and small reptiles scampered over his shoes mid-stride or perched on his pants as if he were a stone.

  The animals didn’t care that a human had invaded their territory because the forest welcomed him there.

  And then he heard it.

  The sound of running water.

  Vrakhu stepped from the underbrush, his boots clacking against smooth stone, and he looked up at the base of a small mountain.

  The sky was overcast; heavy clouds lingered above with the promise of rain.

  On the ground was a square platform that was tall enough to allow the nearby plants to grow up its sides. It was made of a thirty-foot-wide, pale colored stone that’d been polished to a mirror’s shine.

  On the far side of the platform, carved out of the very mountain itself, was a hundred-foot-tall monolith; white as a newly formed cloud and almost impossibly straight. The monolith would naturally draw the eye of any who stood before it.

  To be Free is to carry one’s own Burdens.

  This line was carved cleanly into the face of the monolith. So, anyone standing atop the platform could look up at the words easily and often.

  Then Vrakhu blinked.

  The platform was gone; in its place was a wide plunge pool that transitioned into a western flowing stream. And the area around it was soft, nutrient rich soil that’d held a bounty of colorful flowers and fruit-bearing bushes.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  The sky was clear and still dyed orange, yellow, and blue.

  The colors of the rising sun.

  The monolith was changed.

  Cracks lined its surface from base to crown. None wider or more obvious than the large one from which a tremendous amount of water flowed forth.

  He took a single, silent step forward.

  His boot touched blades of green grass instead of polished stone.

  Vrakhu slowly moved through the flowers to the side of the waterfall and inspected the monolith.

  Water and time had eroded all but the first words carved into its surface.

  To be Free

  Vrakhu stood in the same spot; his eyes never deviated from those words as the sun traversed the sky.

  By the time he started to move. The sun had already passed its highest point and begun its descent into the western horizon.

  A tingle at the back of his mind led Vrakhu to a few of the flowers around the waterfall.

  He bowed his head to one flower before pulling it up by the roots; it was palm-sized, with thick florets and a ring of silver petals.

  The rest of the flowers he picked only a handful of petals or a leaf or two. Which they would regrow in time and continue to give life and warmth to this little haven.

  His basket was now nearly full. He looked over the place one final time before retracing his steps through the forest.

  As he grew closer to the Tree of purple leaves. He began to feel something had changed in the space he’d left.

  The tree was the same as before, its energy a vibrant, powerful contrast to the rest of the forest.

  It was the twins that had changed.

  He continued walking towards the twins. Even as a heavy coppery scent teased at his senses, he did not increase his pace.

  The twins were both alive. Their energy was less than he’d felt before, but stable.

  He stepped into the clearing around the Tree of purple leaves. His eyes immediately landed on the bloody body of a dead serpent beside the fire.

  A stick with a sharpened tip pierced its head and nailed it to the ground, which left its body to twitch and twist randomly.

  “You’re…back.” Corin’s voice was low, and slightly raspy.

  His eyes shifted from the serpent to the child sitting beside the fire, a second sharpened stick sat on the ground nearby.

  “Yes.” Vrakhu observed Corin, his eyes lingered on the child’s right forearm for a few moments before sliding off.

  Then he took a few steps closer to the tree and inspected Corvin.

  The child was panting and clutching at the purple mark on his chest.

  Vrakhu stepped over to the serpent lying on the ground and quickly pulled the stick from its skull.

  He grabbed the back of its head and lifted it off the ground.

  He observed the snake for a few seconds, looking at the creature from mouth to tail, before placing the nail of his thumb against its neck.

  With a light push, Vrakhu’s nail sliced through the snake’s dark scales, flesh, and bone.

  The snake’s head fell to the ground without resistance and Vrakhu tossed its body close to the fire.

  Vrakhu moved to Corin’s side and placed the basket on the ground. “Your arm,” he motioned to the puncture marks on Corin’s forearm.

  “I’m okay. Please. My brother-” Corin winced after attempting to point at Corvin.

  “Him too. First, close your eyes and hold out your arm.”

  “But-”

  “Arm. Now.” Vrakhu didn’t shout, but the finality in his voice stole the air from Corin’s lungs.

  The child felt a wave of panic rising up.

  But eventually did as Vrakhu said and presented the wounded arm for his inspection.

  Vrakhu didn’t move for a long moment. He just stared at the child’s face, as if he were trying to memorize it.

  Then he reached out and gently placed his palm on Corin’s wrist.

  Corin’s body flinched away from his touch - startled by how cold his hands were.

  They were like ice... no, even colder than that.

  Yet his touch wasn’t painful.

  Corin expected it would be.

  Vrakhu drew the child’s arm close to his face.

  He watched the blood flow from pale skin. Saw the goosebumps proliferating across the arm. Most importantly, he could see the veins above and below the bite turning black.

  His mustache twitched as he opened his mouth and revealed four razor sharp fangs in place of his cuspids.

  All four were twice as long as a human’s canine teeth and curved slightly backwards.

  Vrakhu placed his lips over the wound and began to suck out the venom.

  Corin gasped as the cold feeling instantly intensified.

  Darkness encroached on Corin’s vision, threatening to steal away consciousness.

  And then it did.

  Corin slumped into Vrakhu’s arms as he finished sucking out the venom.

  He could feel the warm liquid sitting atop his tongue and teeth until he swallowed it down like water.

  He tasted the venom, took it into himself… and found it wanting.

  The child would ache for a few days. But he would live.

  Vrakhu grabbed a green leaf with spiked edges from his basket and brought it to his mouth.

  A long, thin tongue extended from his mouth and licked one side of the leaf until its natural sap was released from its veins.

  He was careful not to touch Corin as he flattened the leaf against his arm.

  The sap acted as a powerful adhesive, which kept it in place and any dirt or illness from seeping in.

  Vrakhu carried the too thin child over to the hollow tree and laid him beside his brother. He placed Corin opposite Corvin, with their heads at opposite ends of the hollow.

  After Corin was settled. Vrakhu turned his attention to Corvin, who was burning with fever.

  He returned to his basket and grabbed the silver ringed flower he’d taken from the waterfall.

  He returned to the hollow and held the head of the flower over the purple mark — Vrakhu lightly squeezed, and a silver-colored nectar dripped from between his fingers.

  Corvin’s breathing hitched in his throat.

  His eyes snapped open, a scream on the tip of his tongue.

  But his voice was crushed beneath the weight of the yellow eyes watching him.

  Instead, with his lips parted by a scream that would never come, Vrakhu dropped pieces of the flower’s root into Corvin’s mouth.

  “Chew. Don’t swallow.”

  Corvin’s heart pounded in his chest.

  He senses threatened to leave him, yet his body obeyed the command.

  Fear… My Sister… Stay away…

  Vrakhu blinked as the boy slipped back into unconsciousness.

  He used the sleeve of his shirt to close Corvin’s mouth, then stood up and turned from the twins to the brown sack.

  He lifted the sack from the ground and placed it over his shoulder, then turned and bowed to the Tree of purple leaves.

  An energetic feeling brushed against his senses.

  He felt the atmosphere around the tree heighten with a slight weight as he left the twins to sleep off their injuries.

  The sun was well and truly falling now. Its crimson glow illuminating his back as he ventured further and further from the twins.

  He continued to walk until he heard it.

  Running water.

  He emerged to face the waterfall as the moon appeared over the mountain.

  He slowly moved through the flowers to the base of the monolith.

  Then he placed the sack on the ground beside the plunge pool, amidst a collection of flowers that seemed to glow blue beneath the moonlight.

  Vrakhu sank to his knees beside the monolith and buried his hands in the grass.

  His head down, his eyes covered by his hair, Vrakhu began to dig.

  He could’ve dug this hole in an instant, but that would only destroy the area.

  He didn't want that.

  Instead, Vrakhu dug until the moon was halfway across the sky.

  Once it was finished, he climbed out of the hole and moved over to his bag.

  He carefully lifted it and placed it beside the hole.

  He tugged at the string keeping it closed until it unraveled and the bag fell open.

  Inside the bag was a carefully tied together pile of snow-white bones, with the skull sitting at the very top.

  Vrakhu placed the skull on the ground beside the hole. Then he moved the bones from the bag to the hole one at a time. Slowly rebuilding the body from memory until it was finished.

  The final thing to move was the skull.

  He gently grabbed the skull from where he’d placed it, wiped away the dirt and grass clinging to it, then placed it in its proper place.

  Vrakhu climbed out and knelt beside the hole.

  He reached into the bag and retrieved the one thing he’d left inside the bag. A transparent sphere, about the size of Vrakhu’s palm, with a faint golden light shining from within.

  The light touched the flowers beside and around Vrakhu.

  The energy inside them pulsed and reached out for the core.

  “I can’t let you keep this” His voice was barely audible over the sound of the waterfall.

  Vrakhu placed the core against his chest and lightly pushed it into his skin — The core shrank to the size of a pin head and sank beneath his skin.

  It was quickly caught by the whirlpool created by his core.

  The golden core was yanked around randomly before it reached its final destination.

  A secondary whirlpool; this one a tenth this size of the first, trapped the golden core within its field and pulled it in.

  The golden core sank into a small pit directly above Vrakhu’s core. Where it was locked into place via the pull of the much stronger core to the south.

  The effect was instantaneous.

  Vrakhu felt a slight burning sensation as golden energy coursed through his muscles and tendons… Yet he didn’t react to any of it.

  He grabbed a handful of dirt and tossed it over the skeleton while he waited for the Golden Soul to settle into place.

  Then he grabbed another handful of dirt.

  Then a third.

  It took him the rest of the night to fill in the hole to his satisfaction.

  Vrakhu stood as the sky began to lighten in the east. He looked from the grave to the monolith and once again gazed upon the words.

  To be Free

  Vrakhu bowed to the grave, bending all the way down to his waist.

  “Rest well.”

  He straightened his back a few minutes later and picked up the sack from the ground.

  He left the waterfall behind without a second glance and began listening to the forest.

  He picked up a few things as he walked and placed them inside the bag., But he never deviated from his path back to the Tree of purple leaves.

  When he finally drew close enough to sense the twins.

  He found their energy to be erratic, unstable.

  He stepped into the clearing around the tree and pinpointed the two children sitting beside the fire.

  Corin’s face brightened immediately. She stood from her spot and rushed to greet him — Only for Corvin to stop her mid-stride.

  He put himself between them; his moon-like eyes meeting Vrakhu’s yellow with defiance.

  “Quit it.” Corin’s palm audibly smacked against the back of Corvin’s head and she stepped around him. “He’s been helping us while you laid around.”

  Corvin rubbed the back of his head with a pensive look on his face.

  Corin ignored him and ran to Vrakhu’s side.

  “Where did you go? I looked for you when I woke up but couldn’t find you.”

  “She hasn’t stopped yapping since her eyes opened.” Corvin grumbled, still rubbing the back of his head.

  She’d apparently smacked him pretty hard.

  Vrakhu dropped the sack on the ground beside him — The impact caused the bag to spill open and a bunch of herbs to come spilling out.

  “I’ll teach you to cook the snake you killed.”

  Corin and Corvin both froze at that.

  Both were hungry, starving even.

  But eating a snake?

  Corvin wasn’t so sure about that.

  Corin was different though. That was the first time she’d ever killed anything. And the thought that they’d be eating what she killed… Well, it was enough to make her giddy.

  “Okay!”