Two distinct contrasts marked the divergence between the jarring dream that had startled Min from her slumber and the chaotic reality unfolding before her. Firstly, as she sprinted through the dense foliage, her eyes darted frantically in search of an escape route, all while the enraged beast thundered behind her, bellowing its fury. In the distance, her mother's desperate cries carried on the wind, urging her to return.
However, there was a crucial disparity between the dream and the waking world—a fundamental truth that set Yasemin apart. She was a witch, a psychic possessing powers far beyond mere physical strength. She was not defenseless, and despite her labored breaths and drenched body, fear did not consume her.
Well, perhaps she was terrified to some extent, but Min's terror did not render her incapable of defending herself. Placing a hand against her temple, she focused her thoughts and a blue hue tinted her vision, as the potent energy of aku surged through her mind. A witch's magic was virtually boundless, but drawing too much of it at once could leave her utterly drained, plagued by a pounding headache, or worse. Min had learned the importance of tempering her power, avoiding an excess that would confine her to bed for the remainder of the day.
The beast's roar echoed once more, its hulking form closing the distance with alarming speed. A moss-covered, expansive rock caught Min's attention. She extended her hand towards it, sweeping it in a swift motion directed at the oncoming bear. A slight discomfort pulsed in her head as the stone ascended, hurtling through the air until it crashed into the creature's muzzle.
The impact struck the animal's jaw and side of its head, rupturing the grotesque mass of tissue obscuring its left eye. The resulting grotesque mixture of fluid, blood, pus, and other repugnant substances was so vile that it nearly turned her stomach. The bear roared in agony and fury, as Min witnessed a spray of blood and dislodged teeth expelled from the impact.
The bear momentarily ceased its pursuit, swatting at the mangled side of its face with a paw, as if attempting to quell the pain. Through her connection to magic, Min could sense the creature—its seething hatred directed solely at her, an insatiable thirst for blood, an overwhelming desire to sink its teeth into her flesh and tear her apart. It was like peering into an abyss of darkness.
Once again, she pressed her hand against her temple, seeking solace from the discomfort that surged within. Waving her hand back and forth across the bear's line of sight, the sun's rays filtering through the trees intensified, though Min herself didn't perceive any change. Yet, the beast was momentarily blinded, prompting it to roar once more and scrape its head against the ground in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain.
She fled from the hut, leaving her mother behind. If this nightmare mirrored her dream, only one of them had to die—Min refused to place Erden in jeopardy. As she sprinted, a fervent prayer to Mylan escaped her lips, a plea for salvation or, at the very least, a swift and painless demise.
The density of the trees began to thin, and familiarity struck her senses. She recognized the subtle elevation of the land, mirroring the terrain from her dream. The bear loomed perilously close, wielding its massive paws, toppling young saplings and tearing colossal chunks from larger trees without slowing its relentless pursuit. One side of its face oozed with pus, blood, and dirt, yet its remaining eye fixated on her, ablaze with animosity, fury, and a more sinister emotion: hunger.
Min arrived at the small ravine she had leapt across in her dream, but the prospect of crossing it spelled certain death, and a far from pleasant one at that. She did not desire to die. Nor did she wish to abandon her mother, leaving her to face the world alone.
With a piercing scream, Min hurled herself into the crevice, tumbling to the ground. The impact against the compacted soil knocked the wind out of her, momentarily blurring her vision with a flash of red. Yet, she remained intact and alive. The narrow chasm offered just enough space for her to lie flat, but the danger still loomed. The beast's roar reverberated once more as it pounded its paws against the ground, scraping and lunging, extending an impossibly long arm and clawing at her.
One of its claws, just barely within reach, struck her bare shoulder. Min cried out, rolling onto her belly and pressing herself into the dirt and dust at the bottom, too petrified to glance upward. The ravine stretched ahead, engulfed in darkness, its length obscuring the end from her view. Mere feet away, the open wound of earth sealed shut, plunging everything into obscurity. But the darkness proved more welcoming than the beast's relentless pursuit. Disregarding the pain searing through her shoulder and the fluid trickling down upon her—a vile mixture of saliva, blood, and unknown substances—Min crawled desperately toward safety. The soil scraped against her breasts, grated against her belly, and tore at her thighs, yet she clenched her teeth and persisted.
Suddenly, the bear ceased its attack from above. Min froze, daring to lift her gaze—she observed the beast's snout from below, splattered with foam and blood, an image of complete madness. Then, it bellowed at an unseen presence and launched itself toward a new threat.
"No! Mother!" Despite the knowledge that it spelled certain death, Min propelled herself to her feet and leaped toward the edge of the solid ground. "I'm down here! Down here!" she cried, her heart pounding in her chest.
Min strained her ears, hoping to catch her mother's scream, but the expected cry never reached her. Instead, it seemed as though another creature had entered the fray—a smaller adversary than the bear, perhaps, but no less fierce. Despite her efforts, Min couldn't reach the top of the crevice or get a glimpse of the ongoing battle.
A pained sound pierced the air, a loud cry that echoed through the surroundings. It was followed by heavy, labored breathing, filled with wheezes and agony, as well as the muffled bellowing of the bear, as if the creature was bewildered by what was happening. Then came a final call and a resounding crash, akin to a fallen tree hitting the ground... and then silence.
Min couldn't decide which was worse: the sounds of the fight or the eerie stillness that followed. Had her mother met her demise? Had the bear slain another creature in its frenzy? "H-hello?" Min slid back down to the bottom of the small ravine, her breath coming in ragged gasps as if she had fought the battle herself. The sky above, visible through the branches, seemed particularly radiant and serene. For a brief moment, it felt as if she were the sole inhabitant of the entire world.
Suddenly, the sunlight vanished as a head appeared in the gap, peering down at her. In a split second, she mistook it for the bear and let out a scream, pushing against the far wall in terror. But then her cry died in her throat. The head was narrower, more angular, adorned with pointed ears—a wolf's head.
As Min blinked away the glare, the wolf's features became clearer. Its coat was a mixture of gray and patches of brown around its eyes and ears. The muzzle bore darker hues, which she soon realized were stains of blood. She had been assaulted by one wild creature only to be rescued by another.
The wolf observed her intently, remaining perfectly still. It lay on its belly at the edge of the crevice, its dark eyes unwavering, as if awaiting something from her.
"Well..." Min swallowed hard, licked her dry lips. "What d-do you want?"