Auren's fingers tightened around the spear, his sweaty grip threatening to fail him. Focus, just focus. The rabbit was close now, almost within reach. If he missed, he wouldn't eat. Again.
His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the rustle of leaves. Come on. Come on, you can do this. The trembling in his fingers was unmistakable, the sweat slicking his neck, but there was no time to wipe it away. No room for hesitation. He couldn't afford another failure. Not today.
The rabbit twitched its nose, ears flicking at the faintest whisper of movement. It hasn't seen me yet, but it will in seconds. Don't mess it up. Focus.
Exhale. You've done this before. Once. Twice. How many times before that? The memory of his father's steady voice filled his mind. Patience. Precision. You can't rush hunger.
But Auren wasn't his father. I'm not him. The thought stung more than it should. His fingers tightened, the spear almost feeling like an extension of himself.
He threw.
The spear whistled through the air, and the world seemed to freeze for that heartbeat, as though the universe itself were holding its breath.
And missed.
The rabbit bolted, vanishing in a blur of motion. Auren stood there, frozen, the weight of his failure crashing down on him like a stone. Idiot. I missed. Again. His stomach groaned louder, mocking him.
Behind him, Corren let out a disbelieving snort. "Well, that was sad."
Auren whipped around, heat flooding his face. His hands clenched around the spear. I almost had it. I should've had it. His pulse thudded in his ears. "I almost had it," he muttered, voice thick with a mix of shame and defiance.
Corren's words were like a slap to the face. "You almost went hungry. Again."
A rustle behind him. A blur of movement.
He barely had time to turn before the air split with a second spear.
It was silent, precise—too perfect to be real. The rabbit didn't even have a chance to react before it was pierced, its squeal barely audible as it died in an instant.
Auren's breath caught. How did he—?
He looked to Rhett, who had lowered his arm, his stance eerily calm. No excitement. No pride. Just… nothing. Rhett met his gaze without blinking, his expression unreadable.
Auren's throat tightened. He should be jealous. He was jealous. What's wrong with him?
Then, as though nothing had changed, Rhett pulled the spear free, blood darkening the dirt, and held the rabbit by its hind legs, extending it toward Auren.
Auren hesitated for a long moment, his stomach churning, but hunger won out. He took it. The feeling of the lifeless animal in his hands made his stomach twist in a different way. I'll eat. I'll survive. I have to.
Corren's voice snapped him back to reality. "You missed the shot, you clean the kill."
Auren groaned inwardly. Again? His eyes lingered on the rabbit, a wave of disgust rolling through him. But he didn't have a choice. He sat down with the knife Corren had given him. Focus. If I mess this up again, I'm the one who suffers. No one else.
The first time had been the worst. The second wasn't much better. He tried to focus, but the sickening squelch of cutting through fur and flesh turned his stomach.
It has to be done. You can do this.
Across from him, Rhett didn't seem to notice. He sat by the fire, silent, as always. His face was unreadable—Auren couldn't ever get a read on him. Maybe because he doesn't care? Or because he's just empty?
Then, the storm rolled in. The wind carried the scent of rain, and the sky began to churn with dark clouds. Something feels wrong. Auren's nerves tingled with unease.
But Rhett… Rhett was different. Auren couldn't stop looking at him. The way he stood there, unmoved by the storm. No fear. No hesitation.
Then, the lightning struck.
The crackling sound of thunder split the air, the energy charging the atmosphere, sending shivers down Auren's spine. The storm was alive, crackling with power.
Rhett didn't flinch.
Auren felt it, the static prickling his skin, the hairs standing on end. But Rhett… Rhett stood there like the storm wasn't even there. It didn't affect him. He didn't even blink. How is he doing that?
Auren glanced back at Corren, wondering if the older man saw it too. There was no reaction from Corren, but Auren swore he caught the smallest flicker of something in his eyes. What does Corren know that I don't?
Corren, though, seemed to be taking it all in stride. But Corren always has something up his sleeve, doesn't he?
The conversation shifted. The Chain. Auren's mind lingered on those words—the Chain. They killed my father. They control everything.
Corren's words didn't ease the knot in his chest. The Trials of Honor—a way for anyone to take power?
Auren's heart hammered in his chest. If that's real… then it's my way in. My chance to take power. To stand up to them.
But a whisper of doubt followed. But what's the cost?
Corren's smirk flickered like a shadow across his face, a knowing expression that made Auren uneasy. There's always a price. His stomach churned. And I'll pay it. No matter what it is.
Time passed, they arrived at the campsite.
Corren leaned back against a tree, eyes fixed on the darkening sky. The wind had picked up, carrying the scent of rain, and Auren could feel the storm in his bones, thrumming with an energy he didn't fully understand.
"Those with power in Veltharion," Corren said, voice low, like he was speaking more to the forest than to Auren, "they have a grip on this world. Not just on the land or the people—but on the very forces that shape it."
Auren's gaze darted to the spear in his hands, still slick from his failed attempt at hunting. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. "Like the Chain?"
Corren's lips twitched, but there was no humor in his eyes. "They're just a part of it. The Chain's power runs deeper than any of us understand, and it's not just in the hands of the nobility. It's something older, more ancient. Something the rulers used to keep control."
Auren's heart skipped. "You make it sound like a curse."
Corren chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it. "In a way, it is. Power always comes with a cost. Even for those who think they control it." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "But the real question is... what are you willing to pay to get it?"
Auren frowned, trying to push past the gnawing discomfort. "I don't care about their games. I want to take back what's mine."
Corren studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing as though sizing up more than just his words. "Power doesn't work like that. You don't just take it back. You either earn it, or it breaks you."
Auren's hands tightened around the spear, as if to prove something. "I'll take my chances."
Corren shrugged, but his eyes softened. "I can't stop you. But just know—the storm isn't always on the horizon. Sometimes, it's already here."
The wind howled louder, a crackle of energy in the air. Auren's skin prickled with the charge of the coming storm, and for a brief moment, he thought he might actually feel the storm itself in his chest.
Then, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The air grew heavy. It wasn't just the storm.
A low growl rumbled through the trees, deep and resonant, like the growl of some massive beast.
Auren's grip tightened on his spear, and his heart skipped a beat. His stomach churned with a mixture of hunger and dread. This wasn't the kind of danger you ran from. This was the kind that hunted you.
And it was close.
A massive shape moved through the trees, the beast emerging in a blur of dark fur streaked with silver.
A Duskfang wolf. Larger than any normal wolf, with claws that gleamed in the half-light.
Auren's heart thudded in his chest. This is it. This is real.
He stumbled backward, almost tripping over his own feet. Fear. Why am I so afraid? His stomach clenched as he tried to steady himself. But there was no way to hide it. The fear was in his gut, his chest. He couldn't shake it. Rhett didn't move. Didn't even blink. The wolf's growl filled the air, its eyes gleaming with hunger.
And then, Corren was there. A blur of motion. How is he that fast?
The impact was so sudden, the air around them exploded with force. Corren had stopped the wolf in mid-charge with nothing but his palm.
Auren's breath caught in his throat. What just happened?
And then, Corren… Corren summoned the spirit. A bear made of shadows and glowing embers.
Auren's heart skipped a beat. What… what am I seeing?
But before he could even process the sight, the battle was over. The wolf was dead. The spirit had done its work, leaving nothing but dust and silence in its wake.
Corren stood there, brushing himself off. He wasn't even winded.
Auren's thoughts swirled, his mind trying to piece everything together. I'm still at the bottom. But... I don't have to stay here. I don't have to be weak.