\|/ Turn 54, midlight

  I’m not sure what’s real anymore. She has to be doing something, or I’ve completely lost it.

  I don’t remember falling asleep. I was in a state of shock, somewhere between rage, guilt and hate, until I just wasn’t conscious anymore. It felt like my adrenaline drained the moment I sat down.

  And I dreamt.

  I slowly stirred awake, immediately realizing it was still dark. I felt branches and leaves against my body, even though I was at the camp beforehand.

  Standing up, I immediately knew my body wasn’t right. I was much heavier, my breaths much deeper. My knees bent the wrong way, yet no pain came.

  I looked down at my claws; the movement taking longer than it should have, like my neck had been elongated. When I did, I saw that my arms had both scales and a cloak.

  I was the scavenger.

  My brain tried to convince me I had been it my entire life. Like nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Thinking about the situation itself felt muddy. I knew I was asleep, I knew this was deeply wrong, but I couldn’t feel wrong. Fighting the emotion of contempt was useless.

  The bush felt cramped. I could stand in it, but it poked my sides and obscured my vision, making me feel the overwhelming urge to step out. So, I did, in one large stride.

  The warm, moist air met my cloak. I felt incredibly relieved that I wasn’t in that small space anymore.

  A small distance away, I saw what looked like a fizzling fire. I immediately recognized it was where Mik and “I” were. I looked down, deeply breathing out. If I went there, she would be waiting for me with some fresh new torture.

  Squinting, I noticed the outer layer of the sweetfruit at my feet.

  …Just where I threw it…

  Instead of poking a scalari, I decided to wait out the dream in the clearing.

  I reflexively went to a resting position, bending those large legs so I was crouching. It felt oddly comfortable; despite the fact I was still standing.

  I gazed at the stars, silently thinking about home. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was right at home at that moment.

  But there was always a reminder that where I was wasn’t reality. The stars were still broken, writhing and clumping together, only to scatter moments after. There weren’t any eyes staring back at me to shatter my mind, but the sky itself was wrong.

  As I sat, I had the irresistible urge to breathe deeply instead of tasting the air. I was surprised that I still felt what was in the air, even though my snout (in that moment, chitinous snout), was closed. It felt much more distant, but I felt Mik’s and my own… taste. The word doesn’t make sense for the context, but I don’t have a better description. Everything was so alien, yet so natural.

  It felt peaceful. Zoning out and looking at the broken sky was nice. I didn’t feel like thinking about anything heartbreaking, and the body made me feel healthy. I was genuinely enjoying a dream for the first time in a very long while.

  “Hiiii!” I heard her shouting from the camp.

  Suns… Why?

  She jogged up to me, leaning on my side. It felt odd, her cool scales meeting my warm cloak.

  “Well, aren’t you a beauty! Really suits you!” She smiled at me.

  I tried to tell her to let me be, but all that came out was “Hnnhg”.

  Right. Can’t hiss.

  “Nope, but I still hear ya!” She said, petting me on the back.

  Suddenly, she gasped, mockingly taking my arm into her hands. “Did you get your scales polished?”

  I looked at her, thinking about how I could crush her. Instead, I took my arms from her and turned away slightly. I felt her give me a sassy tail whip against my leg.

  I’m not me. You’re not me. Leave me alone.

  “Oh, don’t be so harsh at yourselves! With your manipulation, you are a better scavenger than the real one is!”

  Manipulation? What are you on about?

  She scoffed. “Oh please, like you don’t know. Your little ups and downs with Mik, keeping it on its good side like you’re a pet.” She waved her hand around.

  She then pointed at me, laughing vehemently. “You make it mad, then beg for treats!”

  I don-

  “Don’t lie to us.” She cut me off, her tone suddenly serious. “We both know how much you sabotaged Mik. Giving away bowls and food like it’s nothing. Only you are benefiting from the relationship.”

  I stayed silent. She smiled widely again.

  “But that hatchet throw just now? MM! That was good. It’s going to suck for you, though.”

  Why…?

  “You think throwing a hatchet with a scarred arm isn’t going to hurt? I’m already feeling it!”

  I looked towards her again, confused. Only then did I notice she was wearing my actual body, not her ‘fixed’ version of it.

  “But that’s for later.” She said, leaning harder into my cloak. “Let’s just enjoy our time together, friend.”

  With my too-long tail thumping from frustration, I looked back at the stars. Surprisingly, she stayed silent, letting me enjoy the moment.

  …

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  …

  It is.

  I woke up.

  Reality crashed back onto me. I panicked and scrambled up, almost hitting my head against the hull above us.

  “Oh Suns.” I breathed out, looking frantically around me.

  My own body felt foreign; every muscle movement felt like I was something I shouldn’t be.

  I hyperventilated, completely lost in what “I” was.

  I had to physically stop myself by closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Another. I counted them to ten, tasting the air between them until it felt normal to do so again.

  I’m me. I’m here…

  …

  After a few moments, I opened my eyes, grounding myself in what I saw and tasted: Mik sleeping, Mik’s and the scavenger’s taste, ash from the burnt wood, the greenery around me.

  Suns, how does she even come up with that…

  As I calmed down, I started thinking back about what happened before the dream. Dread crawled up my tail, and I remembered her words.

  Please don’t tell me…

  I looked at my left arm, hanging limply at my side.

  I tried moving it. Nothing happened. I felt myself straining to move it, but the muscles just didn’t respond.

  I took my right arm and tried raising it. Burning pain shot up my entire left side.

  “Of course.” I gritted my teeth, gently putting my arm back down.

  I sat back down, wrapping my tail around myself and staring at the hull above me.

  …

  Messed everything up… again…

  I couldn’t even feel depressed. It was expected, at this point. I try to help, and the complete opposite happens. It’s more ironic than anything.

  With Mik still sleeping, I felt I needed to do something other than think about the big joke my life has become.

  I got up and went to check on the scavenger. Out of anyone here, it has probably been the only one to actually have some use out of me.

  I stepped into the clearing, feeling the light on my scales.

  For just a moment, the thought that I might still be in some inceptive dream made me stop.

  I looked up. The sky was normal, a clear hue with red-tinted clouds.

  Glad I wasn’t still in my personal torture; I took another step.

  And felt something under my foot.

  Looking down, immediately recognizing what it was.

  The scavenger’s imprint. My imprint.

  A perfect groove where ‘I’ was crouching last dark.

  …

  Right. Here.

  I was standing right here.

  Feeling my entire body twitching, I stepped onto the two footprints with both my legs, matching the scavenger’s wider hips.

  And my world broke.

  I tried to think of an explanation, literally anything, to describe how this impossibility could happen. Every thought led me to a mental dead-end.

  Was I actually the…? Was I controlling…?

  Does she actually exist?

  Every time I would get stuck in a loop where something utterly impossible was happening.

  I couldn’t move. I felt frozen in that exact spot.

  And as I tried to think of a scientific, logical answer, I would get back to the same question:

  Why would the scavenger stand here?

  It took physical effort for me to dare to look towards the bush. I saw the outer layer of the sweetfruit gone.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  That makes sense. Of course it would eat that. I tried grounding myself. It didn’t work.

  I looked at the tree. It still had a deep groove from the hatchet. Everything had happened just as I remembered it.

  But I just couldn’t figure out why it would stand there. Hunted animals don’t stargaze, especially after almost getting killed, twice, in one turn.

  I felt weak, teetering on the edge of mental collapse. The longer I stood there, the more I felt like laughing. If I started laughing, I wouldn’t stop.

  I forced myself to fall off the imprints.

  I gasped as I hit the ground. I didn’t even notice I wasn’t breathing while standing there.

  …

  I slowly stood back up, my tail swaying desperately to keep balance.

  My legs hurt. I felt as If I had walked for marks, and not a few steps towards the bush. I pushed the leaves aside, expecting to see her smiling behind them.

  But the same scene met me as last turn: the large sleeping imprint, a wet spot where it ate food.

  Feeling ill, I struggled to get back to the camp, not daring to look at the imprints on the way back. No matter how many times I turned the dream over in my head, I couldn’t logically explain what was in reality.

  My final argument was that I was hallucinating seeing the tracks, which would mean I was long gone.

  I decided not to conclude that.

  I sat back at the camp, near Mik, waiting for it to wake up.

  I couldn’t keep calm, so I distracted myself with literally anything else. I found that counting the metal pieces individually kept me distracted enough while I waited.

  84 in total, 32 excluding small scraps.

  I counted them four times.

  Mik woke up about half a mark later. It didn’t greet me, nor did I notice, since I was desperately entranced in seeing if a metal shard was larger than my finger or not. Only when Mik crouched next to me, watching what I was doing, did I notice.

  “Oh!” I yelped, startled by Mik next to me.

  “Water?” I asked, smiling unevenly and tapping the bowl. It nodded.

  I reciprocated the nod and got up, taking the bowl. Mik took the bottle and its hatchet, giving me its journal for safekeeping.

  As we started the trip, I saw that Mik’s usual gestures were muted, and it didn’t ‘talk’ with me the way it usually would. But I understood why. I gave it space, as I should’ve done before.

  I wasn’t going to be a ‘pet’. Not again.

  We walked towards the valley. The trip was silent, which made me internally ramble to myself about the imprints. I kept falling behind Mik, constantly tripping over roots and hitting branches as I followed.

  While thinking, I managed to come up with a half-solution; it being that I would try not to figure out why there were imprints at all.

  There simply was no reason. It’s mathematically viable that there are no solutions sometimes, why wouldn’t that logic work here?

  Everyone has things they can’t explain… Mik couldn’t explain why I do the things I do. Why should I explain what the scavenger does?

  A coincidence. That’s all.

  The word echoed in my head. I had to believe it.

  Thinking about coincidences, I yelped as I took a step in the electric valley and got shocked.

  I looked back at Mik, who was standing with its arms crossed.

  “What are you doing?” I muttered to myself, wondering why it was in that pose again. I hadn’t seen it since we were in space.

  Knowing I wouldn’t get an answer, I walked past it and struggled to pick out some grass with only one arm.

  Mik walked up to me and gently nudged me aside with its hip, grabbing grass by itself.

  Fair enough.

  I sat down by a tree, crushing grass into the bowl with my right arm.

  We did the same loop for a while, even though I was much slower than usual. While I worked, I tried moving my left hand tiny amounts, and it slowly got less painful to do so.

  At some point, Mik probably noticed that the pile of grass next to me wasn’t getting smaller, despite filtering usually going faster than harvesting. It crouched next to me, tapping my left arm once.

  “Hm?”

  It tapped my left arm again, then the bowl.

  I put the bowl off to the side and took out its journal. I wrote “Pain”

  Mik read it out loud in its language. Then, it wrote “Why?”

  My eyes widened. I couldn’t possibly tell Mik about the dark before. Internally screaming, I wrote:

  “Push food. Pain.”

  Mik read it, sighing deeply. It tapped my tailend and went back to get more grass in the valley.

  I loathed the feeling of lying again. I loathed I would have to keep doing it.

  I forcefully brought my left arm up to the bowl using my right, groaning from the pain. Since I could move my left hand somewhat, I used it to filter faster. I wouldn’t let my stupidity and lies hamper us.

  It still took a while to fill the bowl and bottle, though Mik helped me filter when it had brought enough grass. Mik being next to me was nice, even if out of necessity.

  Afterwards, we went back to the camp. During the trip, I exercised my arm more, bending it at the elbow slightly. It was painful, but possible. I was glad I hadn’t completely ruined it, otherwise we probably would’ve eaten it at some point. The thought of cannibalizing my arm made me shudder.

  I noticed we were late to when we would usually go to the field with the metal scraps, due to filtering taking longer and Mik waking up a bit later. When we got back to the camp, Mik wanted to continue as if we weren’t.

  After I put down the bowl under the hull, Mik gestured for me to give it its journal. I did, and Mik opened the map, pointing to “Metal”.

  I took the journal, opening a new page, and wrote: “Warm hurt Mik. Late. Is warm. Mik hurt.”

  I held it out for Mik to read.

  Of course, Mik had to disagree. Shaking its head, it took the water bottle and its hatchet, heading towards the field.

  It gestured for me to follow. I didn’t.

  Mik noticed after a few steps, turning back and gesturing to follow again. I shook my head, tapping my sentence in its journal.

  It looked back at the path, giving me a half arm-flail, and continued. I stayed, putting its journal in my pocket and sitting down.

  Mik rounded a tree, not bothering to look back.

  I waited, exercising my left arm a bit.

  After a few moments, I saw it peek out from behind the same tree.

  I stared back, giving a little tail-hi.

  “Maya!” I heard it shout, revealing itself like I hadn’t seen it the entire time. It brought both of its arms up, spread at the height of its hips.

  “Mik!” I yelled back for no reason.

  Exasperated, it walked up to me and sat next to me. It took its journal from my pocket and wrote

  “Not nice. Frustrating. Word?”

  I chuckled a bit, seeing where it was going. I wrote “Annoying”.

  Mik then wrote “Maya” in front of it.

  “Yeah… yeah.”

  Afterwards, we fell into a comfortable silence, at the camp.

  As Mik and I rested, waiting for midlight to pass, I felt myself getting more anxious. I kept sitting up, looking at where I knew the imprint was.

  Of course, I couldn’t see it from there, but I remembered making it.

  No, no. That’s what she wants. Don’t give her power…

  I stood up, deciding to distract myself instead of thinking about it again. I started gathering leaves from around the camp, picking up fungal vines where I found them. I had to rely on my right arm and tail to pry them from trees, but it worked.

  Mik, still awake, saw what I was doing. It called out “Maya”

  I left what I had gathered on a pile and went up to Mik, tilting my head. It took its journal and wrote “What do?”

  I took out my journal, showing it the poorly made schematics for the knife. I felt embarrassed while showing them, but it was meant to be readable to Mik more than actually being professionally drawn.

  Mik nodded, writing “Have fun”. I wrote “Thanks” and went back to gathering.

  After about a mark or two, I had a big pile of leaves, and I counted out about 16 long fungal vines (I counted out 15 the first time, but the ugly number bothered me too much, so I got one more). I was almost done with getting materials, but I needed one more thing: the wood for the handle.

  I thought about getting branches and tying them together but decided that getting one chunk of wood was probably a better idea. If I tied branches, I would risk it literally splintering apart under pressure, which was a very bad thing to happen while holding a blade.

  I took Mik’s hatchet and found a thin, young tree. Using my right arm, I hit it with the hatchet. Dark green sap, resembling my blood, immediately started flowing.

  Not horrifying at all.

  After a few swings, the small tree toppled.

  The bark inside, aside from being full of sap, was dark green as well. It left a refreshing taste in the air.

  I dragged the tree closer to our camp, leaving it for the fire that dark. Mik watched me drag it, but was visibly too warm to help, so I didn’t bother it.

  Afterwards, I cut off the bottommost part to be about the size of my hand. It still had its rough bark on the outer layer, though. I considered covering that part with leaves and grass, but that would be too slippery for any serious use.

  Instead, I started carving.

  Without any prior experience, and with very little help from my left arm, I was lucky to not have cut my tail off until Mik intervened.

  I didn’t even know it was still awake when it took the hatchet out of my arms, sitting down next to me.

  “Hey!” I complained.

  It took its journal and wrote “What do with?”

  “Give back.”

  It shook its head.

  …

  …This feels familiar.

  It took my journal and opened the drawing, looking at the handle part. Mik then started carving instead of me.

  I felt awkward. My goal was for Mik to rest, not to do my work.

  I took out my journal and wrote “Thank you.”

  Mik glanced at it, before writing “Bored.”

  Sure you were.

  While Mik carved, I worked on making the blade for the knife. I had to be extremely careful to not cut myself while gluing the pieces of metal to the larger piece, but it went much better than carving did.

  It’s late midlight now. Mik has managed to make a handle out of the wood.

  It’s not smooth or anything, but the bark isn’t there, and it has a proper incision to put the blade in. I finished the blade recently, reinforcing it with so much glue that my entire body is sticky, including my tail.

  Don’t ask how.

  All that’s left is connecting the blade and the handle, but I’m leaving that for dark, since we’re going to go to try and find food soon. I hope there’s something except for the sweetfruit at the river.

  If not, I have a solution.

  A solution where we all get to live.

  \|/ Turn 54, late dark

  We didn’t find any food, but I’m not going to let us starve.

  About when I finished the last entry, it was cold enough for Mik to start functioning properly, so we went to the river.

  My arm was doing far better at that point, with me almost being able to move it normally, though with pain. I exercised it continuously but didn’t use it for any serious work.

  As we walked, despite the silence, I felt less tense regarding Mik. Giving it space was the proper thing to do, and it was less cold towards me.

  Finally acting like an adult works…

  I knew I had been manically starving, but those turns still made me feel so incredibly uncomfortable with existing around Mik afterwards. Sure, Mik had its bouts, but they were much less insane than mine.

  It wasn’t hallucinating about being another sunsdamned species.

  At least I hope not.

  You’re more stable than me, right? I thought, looking at Mik’s back.

  Mik looked back at me. I quickly turned my gaze away and continued walking, lightly stretching my left arm. I swear Mik heard me somehow.

  As we walked, I caught the taste of the scavenger in the air.

  You just can’t leave us alone, can you?

  I was getting frustrated with the thing. I saved its life, twice, and it still follows around from a distance.

  Sighing, I tapped Mik. It turned back, and I showed it the drawing on “FOOD”, writing “behind us” next to it.

  Mik looked back at me with its head tilted and eyes open weirdly.

  “What does that mean?” I hissed.

  I wrote “What?” in my journal.

  Mik wrote “You push?”

  I sighed, writing “Yes”

  Mik wrote “Was heavy, know?”

  I wrote “Know, sorry. Hide please.”

  Mik nodded, going to a bush. I went and crouched next to it.

  We waited.

  …

  And waited.

  What surprised me was the fact that Mik didn’t bring out its hatchet, which was still in the holder on its hip.

  I tapped the hatchet, tilting my head at Mik. I absolutely didn’t want Mik to attack the scavenger after everything that I had done for it, but why Mik was acting so passive confused me.

  Mik had absolutely been waiting for me to do that. It half-excitedly took out its journal.

  “Mik no attack bird. Maya like bird.” It wrote.

  I sighed, writing “Maya no like, is animal”

  Mik laughed, shaking its head. “Why push then?”

  It tapped the journal as it handed it to me.

  …

  I wrote “I don’t know.”

  Mik shook its head, rubbing its face. I stored the journal and we waited, Mik still not taking out its hatchet.

  …

  We crouched there for a while. In the end, Mik took out its journal and asked “How know here?”

  I wrote down “Taste.”

  Mik looked at me for a moment, confused. I demonstrated by tasting the air. Mik said its version of “Oooh”.

  …

  Getting really bored of waiting, I peeked out of the bush, looking at where we came from. I struggled to see anything.

  I heard Mik coming out of the bush behind me, looking as well. Mik then brought the journal in front of me, writing “there” with a line leading to a random shrub.

  I squinted, not seeing anything.

  After staring at the bush for a full span, I finally realized where it was. I saw the tip of the scavenger’s tail, barely sticking out.

  “Suns, I would’ve never seen that.” I whispered, looking at the green against green.

  I took out my journal, asking Mik “What do?”

  Mik wrote “What mean?”

  I wrote “Mik choice, what do? Leave or hunt?”

  Mik laughed. I was starting to get frustrated at it laughing when I asked something serious.

  It wrote “Maya like, leave.”

  It gave me its journal and spun around, jauntily continuing towards the river. I groaned, my tail twitching, and followed it.

  Your choice… don’t have to be so damn rude about it…

  The rest of the trip was short, though I had a headache by the end of it.

  This time, however, we didn’t find any food.

  I immediately checked the sweetfruit bush, but there were no fruits left. The scavenger probably didn’t help with that at all.

  There were berries around, but they were still too unripe to properly differentiate. Some were finally gaining color, though.

  We looked around, not managing to find anything edible. I found some neat shell under a rock, but that’s it.

  What I did see were shapes swimming in the water.

  “Mik” I called out. Mik walked up to me.

  I tapped the water, gesturing to the beings inside. I had no idea what they would look like, but there were definitely animals. I assumed something similar to pisca.

  Mik nodded, going into the water with its hatchet raised.

  “You’re not-“ I tried to say, but it was already swinging the hatchet at nothing, splashing water everywhere.

  I shouldn’t have told you that...

  About a mark later, Mik finally gave up. It was heaving from exhaustion when it got out. I had searched quite a length along the river but ultimately came up short.

  “Nothing?” I wrote to Mik. It shook its head.

  It was getting too dark to keep trying, so we had to go back to the camp empty handed.

  As we walked back, I tasted the scavenger during the entire sunsdamned path. Even when I wasn’t thinking about it actively, it had to haunt me. She just had to always be there.

  I need a break.

  We got back to the camp pretty quickly. We struggled to get the campfire up in the darkness but managed after a bit. The tree already being there made things easier.

  After we did that, Mik helped me finish the knife.

  I added glue to the blunt end of the improvised blade and put it in the handle Mik was holding.

  Mik then held both parts while I tied it all together. It was a bit awkward, with me accidentally tying Mik’s hand to the handle with one of the strands of fungal vines.

  “Oh, sorry.” I smiled nervously at Mik, quickly untying it. It chuckled as I struggled to untie the piece.

  But in the end, we managed to make a proper knife.

  It should be sharper and stronger than the spears I had, but I will have to get closer. Much better utility, however. Definitely better than just my claws.

  Mik’s sleeping now. It’s extremely late, and I’m keeping the fire alive so I can work.

  The scavenger’s sleeping in the bush, of course, but I don’t care about it now. Now, I just need to fix the mess I made. The mess I’m still making by not killing the scavenger this moment.

  I took the leftover fungal vines (about 6 long strands) and laid them out.

  I’ve been trying to make a net for the last two marks, but I just can’t get the proper knots. I never knew how to make them.

  Suns, it’s frustrating.

  But I will make it this turn. I’m hungry, and I know Mik is too. I’m not going to torture it by ‘liking’ the scavenger.

  Not anymore, not ever again.

  I’m not going to let her get to me.

  ? Mysteries of Sacra [Isekai] [Weak to OP] [Beast Companion] ?

  by Robert Wolf

  Thrown into a world of beasts and magic, Kai must fight to survive and hold on to the last pieces of his humanity.

  What to expect:

  In a world where kindness is weakness and morality is a luxury only the strong can afford, Kai must decide who he wants to be and what he's willing to sacrifice.

  Umbra, fierce and loyal, and Scry, wise and offlandish, refuse to let him lose himself to the darkness growing within.

  But every step forward brings him closer to a prophecy no one dares to speak.