Rowen's routine over the next few weeks became almost predictable: wake up, grab his spear, head into the woods, and hunt. The first few days had been exhilarating, each rabbit and squirrel leaving him with a faint but noticeable increase in strength. He could run longer without tiring, carry heavier loads, and his reflexes seemed sharper.
But by the end of the second week, the thrill started to fade.
"Another rabbit?" Zoreth's voice echoed in his head as Rowen crouched low in the underbrush, eyes fixed on his prey. "You've officially outdone yourself in mediocrity. Surely, this will make you invincible."
Rowen ignored him, throwing his spear and nailing the rabbit cleanly. He approached it and placed his hand on its fur, focusing as he had many times before. He felt... nothing.
"Huh," Rowen said, frowning.
"No surge of power?" Zoreth drawled. "Shocking."
"I guess I've hit a limit," Rowen admitted, standing up and brushing off his hands.
"It was bound to happen," Zoreth said, with just a little too much satisfaction. "Animal essence is weak to begin with. You've probably drained these poor rabbits of whatever negligible energy they had."
Rowen sighed, scanning the woods. The idea of killing another person for power still made his stomach churn, but Zoreth's constant complaints were wearing him down.
"Fine," Rowen muttered. "I'll look for something bigger."
Rowen ventured deeper into the forest than he ever had before, the familiar trails giving way to untamed wilderness. The trees grew denser, their branches weaving together to block out the sun, and the undergrowth was thicker, teeming with life.
"You're finally thinking like someone with ambition," Zoreth said approvingly.
"I'm still not killing anyone, so don't get too excited," Rowen shot back.
"Oh, I'm positively trembling with excitement" Zoreth's tone deadpanned. Rowen rolled his eyes as he moved further into the woods.
Rowen's decision to hunt larger animals was easier said than done. The deeper he ventured into the woods, the more the familiar trails disappeared, replaced by untamed wilderness. It was both exhilarating and unnerving. His usual quarry of rabbits and squirrels scurried away in abundance, but the signs of larger prey. A broken branch, hoofprints in the mud, and a distant rustling in the bushes kept him alert.
"I can already tell this is going to end poorly," Zoreth remarked, his tone dripping with amusement. "You've barely mastered hunting the forest's smallest creatures, and now you're chasing things that might actually fight back?"
Rowen tightened his grip on his spear, stepping over a fallen log. "It's not like I have a choice. You said it yourself, the rabbits aren't helping anymore."
"Ah, yes. When I suggested escalating, I was the villain. But now that it's your idea…"
Rowen ignored him, his focus on the tracks ahead. They were larger than anything he'd seen before, probably from a deer or a boar. The thought of hunting something that big made his stomach twist, but he couldn't back down now.
After a few hours of tracking, Rowen spotted movement through the trees. A wild boar was rooting around in the undergrowth, its coarse fur bristling as it snorted and pawed at the ground. It wasn't massive, but it was far from the small, defenseless animals he'd been hunting before.
"Well," Zoreth said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. "This should be entertaining."
"Quiet," Rowen hissed, crouching low and readying his spear.
"Sure, sure. I wouldn't want to distract you while you try to not die."
Rowen crept closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of Zoreth's attention, the god's presence sharp and almost tangible in his mind. When he was close enough, he took a deep breath, steadied his aim, and threw the spear with all his strength.
The spear struck the boar's side, making it squeal in pain. Instead of collapsing, however, the animal turned and charged.
"Oh, great shot," Zoreth said sarcastically. "Now it's mad."
"Not helping!" Rowen shouted, scrambling for another weapon, a rock, a stick, anything.
The boar barreled toward him, its tusks glinting in the sunlight. At the last second, Rowen dove to the side, the animal skidding past him in a flurry of dirt and leaves.
"Pro tip," Zoreth said. "Aim for the vital organs next time."
Rowen scrambled to his feet, grabbing his spear from where it had fallen during the boar's charge. The boar charged again, but this time he was ready. With a desperate yell, he thrust the spear forward, catching the animal in its chest.
The boar let out a final squeal before collapsing, its body twitching before going still.
Rowen stood over it, panting and shaking.
"Well," Zoreth said after a moment of silence, "that was unnecessarily dramatic."
Rowen glared at the air in front of him, as if it would somehow reach the voice in his head. "I'd like to see you do better."
"Oh, believe me," Zoreth replied, "if I still had a body, this wouldn't even be a conversation."
That gave Rowen pause. He sat down next to the boar, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Speaking of that… how are you here? You're supposed to be dead, right?"
Zoreth was silent for a moment, which was unusual. Then his voice came, softer than Rowen expected. "Dead isn't quite the right word. Gods don't die the way mortals do. When Lucian struck me down, he shattered my essence, scattering it across the realms. Most of me was destroyed, but a shard, a tiny piece of who I am survived."
"And it just… ended up in me?" Rowen asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Not by chance," Zoreth said, his tone sharpening. "I sought you out."
Rowen blinked, taken aback. "Why me?"
"You were a perfect fit," Zoreth said simply. "Your soul had cracks—places where my essence could seep in and take root. I could sense your hunger, your longing to be more than you are. It called to me, like a flame to a moth."
Rowen frowned, picking at the dirt under his nails. "So, what? You're saying I'm weak, and that's why you're here?"
"Not weak," Zoreth corrected. "Incomplete. There's a difference."
The words hung in the air, heavier than Rowen expected. He glanced down at the boar, its lifeless eyes staring back at him.
"Do you regret it?" Zoreth asked suddenly, his voice unusually serious.
"Regret what?"
"Taking me in. Letting me stay."
Rowen hesitated. He thought about the strange, fiery energy that now pulsed in his chest, the strength he never had before. He thought about the fear of being ordinary, of being left behind while everyone else in his family grew stronger.
"I don't know," Rowen admitted. "Sometimes, I think I should hate you. You're the reason I have to do this." He gestured to the boar. "But then… you're also the reason I can."
Zoreth chuckled, the sound low and almost fond. "Careful, boy. That almost sounded like gratitude."
Rowen snorted, shaking his head. "Don't get used to it."
The next months passed in a blur of similar hunts. Rowen became more confident, taking down fox and even a deer, each victory bringing a small but noticeable boost in strength.
But eventually, the improvements stopped.
Rowen sat by a stream, cleaning his spear, when Zoreth spoke up.
"Hit the wall again, haven't you?"
Rowen sighed. "Yeah. I guess even bigger animals only get you so far."
"Animals have limits," Zoreth said. "Their essence is weak, diluted. If you want real power, you'll need something closer to us, closer to what you are now."
Rowen stared at the water, watching the ripples dance across its surface. He didn't want to admit it, but Zoreth was right. If he wanted to grow stronger, he'd have to make a choice.
"Maybe there's something else out there," Rowen said, more to himself than to Zoreth. "Something bigger than animals, but not people."
Zoreth hummed thoughtfully. "You're creative. I'll give you that. Naïve, but creative."
Ignoring the jab, Rowen stood and slung his spear over his shoulder. "Let's see what's out there."
As Rowen ventured deeper into the forest, the trees grew larger, their roots snaking across the ground like ancient veins. The air felt heavier, filled with the scents of moss and damp earth. He spotted the occasional animal, but none of them seemed worth the effort.
It wasn't until he stumbled upon the clearing that he realized he wasn't alone.
In the center of the clearing, a group of kids stood in a loose circle, their voices loud and mocking. Rowen ducked behind a tree, peeking out to see what was happening.
"Well, well," Zoreth said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Looks like you've found something interesting after all."
Rowen frowned, watching as the other kids taunted the boy. Their powers flared, gusts of wind, cracks in the earth, and flashes of light, but the smaller boy's fire sputtered and died, leaving him defenseless.
Rowen gritted his teeth, gripping his spear tightly.
"What now, hero?" Zoreth asked, amusement lacing his words. "Are you going to save the day?"
What he saw made his blood boil.
"Look at him," sneered the tallest of the group, a lanky boy with sharp features and wild, wind-blown hair. He held his hand out, and a gust of wind whipped around him, ruffling the smaller boy's hair and extinguishing the flames. "Can't even keep your little campfire going."
Another kid, a stocky boy with a jagged scar across his cheek, stepped forward and stomped his foot. The ground rumbled, a small fissure forming under the scared boy's feet, making him yelp and stumble.
"Earth and wind, what a combo" Zoreth mused in Rowen's head. "The classics never go out of style."
Rowen gritted his teeth, watching as a third kid, a girl with electric-blue hair, raised her hand. Sparks danced across her fingertips before shooting forward, zapping the boy's arms. He yelped again, clutching his wrist.
"Just leave me alone!" the boy cried, his voice cracking. Another burst of fire erupted from his hands, but it fizzled out almost immediately.
"Aw, poor little ember," the blue-haired girl teased, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Did we hurt your feelings?"
The last member of the group, a quiet girl with a faintly glowing aura, simply watched with a smirk. Her eyes glowed faintly, and Rowen could feel the strange chill of her power even from his hiding spot.
"Four against one," Rowen muttered. "Real brave of them."
"Welcome to the food chain," Zoreth said. "The strong devour the weak. It's the way of the world."
Rowen clenched his fists. "Not my world."
"Oh, good," Zoreth said dryly. "Are you going to march in there and scold them to death? Maybe throw a squirrel at them?"
Ignoring the jab, Rowen crouched lower, observing the group. At first glance, one would think that the lanky boy with the wind powers seemed to be the ringleader, but after paying slightly more attention, everyone kept looking at the quiet girl for what seemed to be approval. The stocky boy with earth powers looked like the muscle, while the blue-haired girl seemed to be enjoying the show.
The victim, however, was barely holding it together. His fire powers, while dangerous, were wild and unrefined, flaring up unpredictably. If they kept pushing him, someone was going to get hurt, or worse.
Rowen tightened his grip on his spear, his mind racing. He wasn't strong enough to take on all four of them, but maybe he could distract them long enough for the boy to escape.
"Well?" Zoreth's voice was practically oozing smugness. "What's your grand plan, oh mighty hero?"
Rowen smirked. "I guess we're about to find out."
The spear felt heavier in his hand, but he didn't hesitate. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the clearing.