"I warned you."
She shifted on the fallen log, settling more comfortably as her hand moved in slow circles across Evan's back.
"But you just had to be a big helper."
Evan gagged, covering his mouth.
"God... What the hell was that place?" he said, his stomach turning into knots.
Serenity sighed, pulling back her hand. She picked up her stick again and resumed prodding at the fire, the embers snapping with each poke.
"There is no point," she said quietly.
"Even if he's there, Cain will never find him before the moon reaches its zenith."
Evan swallowed down the rising bile, lifting his head up in disgust, resting his eyes on the flame.
Serenity lowered her poking stick, letting it rest with its tip in the fire. Her gaze lingered on the flames before she finally lifted her eyes as well.
"I can't trust—" She cut herself off abruptly, catching the slip too late.
Evan's brow creased, and he turned to her in disbelief. "Of course you can trust me. What the hell are you saying?"
Serenity winced. "N-No, no... That's not what I was going to say..."
She exhaled, closed her eyes, and drew in a steady breath.
"It's Zerin I can't trust."
***
While they spoke by the fire, deep in the forest, Zerin stood beside the Howler. They were silent, regarding their kill—another one of those deer creatures.
"I see—you have a particular taste." Zerin muttered, summoning his darkened blade. Red runes coalesced, shaping his sword in his hand. He lifted it and brought it down on the creature's foreleg.
It took several heavy swings before the leg severed.
Warm blood poured out, pooling at his feet. The glowing, swirling patterns across the creature's pelt blurred as he fought to keep his eyes open.
The sleepless nights, the grueling journey, and battles with nightmare creatures had worn him down.
But it was helping Cain that truly drained him.
It wasn't that the task itself was revolting, or even too laborious.
It was because it struck too close.
He inhaled the sweet scent of blood, the scent alone taking him away from his thoughts.
"You need this, Zerin... You can't continue without it."
He opened his balled fist and scooped up the severed limb to the pale moonlight, toasting the stars.
Tilting his head back, he drank greedily. The crimson warmth coursing through his being, dispelling all thoughts and the fatigue in his bones.
Then it came, the moment—the spark he'd been waiting for.
Zerin felt a surge of vitality as [Sanguine Surge] rushed through him, his soul sea swelling to its full capacity.
Reaching his own limits, but not wanting to waste, he tossed the remains to the Howler, who devoured it with great zeal.
He watched the creature crunch down on the bone with ease. Something shifted in him, a sense of comfort.
Perhaps it was drawn from the creature's calm acceptance of his presence, or just the blood itself.
He never truly stepped back to look at himself—or those around him. The Howler, especially, had been an irreplaceable ally. Not just for what the creature had done, but for its consistent presence. It had been here right alongside him since his earliest days in this realm.
Somehow, without meaning to, he had started to hope for more. More moments of closeness—not just with the Howler, but with others as well. It was strange. After the First Nightmare, he had never imagined he could form anything again.
Yet it seemed he didn't have to try. All of this happened on its own, beyond his control.
And for that, he was grateful.
"You can eat the front half, but leave the rest." Zerin turned away from the creature, lifting his eyes to the rune marked tree behind him.
The mark read: Winter's Repose.
It seemed to all trace back to The Mother of Preservation. He believed he'd dreamt of her way back then, when he was overtaken by the tree that granted him peace beyond his own understanding.
After the Howler finished its feast, he commanded it to hoist the lower half back to camp, where Serenity and Evan waited.
He walked alongside the creature, glancing up at the towering trees as he measured the time.
Half remained before the moon reached its zenith.
"I have more than enough time."
Every whisper of wind, every rustling branch grew clearer; his vision sharpened, and the bite of the chill felt much more real—this was another effect of his Aspect Ability.
He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of a burning fire.
As he drew closer, the scent of burning wood and coals became more prominent, and a voice faintly traveled to his ear—something he would have missed without his ability active.
"...Don't you see? This is a waste of time. We care more about the dead than the living. Ecludia is still alive—so why are we here like sitting ducks?"
"That's why I can't trust him. I can't trust his decisions. But we have no choice, do we?" I suppose it's only a matter of time before she dies... and it will be all our fault, huh?"
Zerin stiffened at the words. The worst part was, they weren't wrong.
He was certain he only truly cared for one person: Wisteria. He'd do almost anything to go back and prevent it all from happening, accepting that life in that fabrication.
While that component was prominent in his decision to stay, the reason he stayed firm to it was because he had made a deal with Cain.
Zerin stepped forward, pushing the pine aside as he returned to camp. His face was set in a distant controlled firmness, a mask he nearly let slip.
The two of them turned to him with almost a hint of shock on their faces, as if waiting for him to speak as his red eyes settled on them.
Evan rose to his feet. "You're back."
Standing just beyond the reach of the fire's light, Zerin said nothing. He identified it—silence suited him better.
So, instead, he pointed his finger right at Evan's feet.
Evan looked at him, confused—until the Howler came through the pines and set down the divided deer near the licking flames.
Zerin's gaze swept over them.
"This is your portion."
That was all. He turned and walked away. The Howler stood for just a moment, before it then began to trail him.
He didn't need to hear the rest of the conversation—or dwell on the context. To him, it didn't matter. Nothing would change. They'd agreed already: once the moon reached its zenith, they would pick back up where they left off.
He marched into the bloodied quarry. Bodies, human and not were piled in heaps across the excavation.
Disturbingly, Zerin could stomach such a grotesque scene—a clear contrast to Evan, who nearly spilled his guts. Stepping over corpse after corpse, Zerin continued into the quarry.
They all knew this was the work of nightmare creatures, but no one dared to speak it aloud. And it would align quite well with his recent discovery: marked trees bearing the attribute of the Howler.
Their reality had shifted into something far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated. Nightmare creatures that could coordinate, slaying a great multitude of nightmare creatures—and have the potential to read and write?
That was nothing to sneeze at.
To Zerin, only one explanation made sense. A Tyrant had to be involved.
Tyrants were a class of nightmare creatures that were capable of commanding armies and bending them to their will.
Zerin let the thoughts fester—until he saw Cain down deeper in the quarry where he had left him.
Old blood streaked Cain's bare chest in horrid smears. In his arms, he carried a limp body of a naked woman, then laid her atop a new growing pile of the dead.
It was a beautifully dreadful scene, and the most human Zerin had ever seen him.
"You need help?" Zerin called down.
Cain turned to face him. Looking up, his expression was blank. But his mask was revealed, under the crimson gleam of Zerin's eyes.
"Please..."
It was the first time Zerin had heard such a word from him. Maybe Cain had begun to lose hope. Searching through the great number of corpses in search of his brother would take days. And even then, it wouldn't cover half the bodies scattered across the quarry.
Behind Zerin, the Howler shifted. Its presence giving him an idea.
"Eat the ones that aren't human," Zerin commanded.
The Howler immediately obeyed, moving to the far edge of the quarry. Zerin then dropped down to join Cain.
Cain looked back as Zerin landed in a shallow pool of blood. His gaze lingered on Zerin's red irises before turning back to move another body.
"Your eyes... Care to explain?" Cain said with his back facing him.
Zerin lifted a hand to his face. "What about them?"
Cain turned, silent for a moment, then placed another body onto the pile. "They're red."
Zerin blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"It happens when you drink blood, doesn't it?" Cain asked.
Zerin's eyes widened. Even he didn't realize such change within his own self, and he didn't expect Cain to even draw a line like that so quickly—or so accurately.
"That's what you were doing on the mountain. Your mouth was dripping with blue blood."
The cat was out of the bag. Not that it mattered. If anything, Evan and Serenity had lost complete trust in him already and it even seemed that Cain was heading down that route as well.
"Yes," Zerin admitted. "My Aspect involves blood. Drinking it revitalizes me."
Even then, he kept the full truth to himself. There was no need to reveal his connection to Wisteria—or the rank of his Aspect. The last thing he wanted was more expectations placed upon him.
As he was already buried under enough of them.
Cain nodded towards the far side of the quarry, where the Howler hunched, tearing into a corpse.
"What about that thing?"
Zerin followed his gaze. "A dead creature, revived through my Aspect. It's bound to me by blood."
Cain looked down at the bodies around him. "Have you tried it on a person?"
Zerin stiffened, taken aback. He had never even considered such a possibility like turning a person into a Veinborne.
"There was never a reason to," Zerin said quietly, eyes dropping to the lifeless body at his feet.
There hadn't been a reason before, but now, it might be his best option. Surrounded by so many bodies, he could raise another Veinborne. And if luck favored him, it might even be one of higher rank.
The combined strength of himself, the Howler, and a second Veinborne... That would be something else entirely.
Cain broke the silence. "I'm grateful for your help... but can you promise me one thing?"
Zerin lifted his eyes back up to Cain. He didn't like where this was going.
"If you can promise me something in return, sure," he said.
Cain nodded, and they spoke briefly, reaching a mutual agreement—each promising to see it through. Then they continued their search.
But misfortune struck. The moon had reached its zenith long before they could finish, signaling that their time was up.
Serenity stood silently at the quarry's entrance. Her stillness caught Zerin's attention, and he glanced up at the sky, knowing it was time.
"Cain… it's time."
Cain kept his back to Zerin but spoke quietly. "Thank you, Zerin. I didn't ask for this… but you helped anyway."
Zerin stepped forward and placed a hand on Cain's shoulder.
"After this, if we don't find him, I'll come back. We'll find him together, okay?"
Cain drew a shaky breath, nodded, then turned to face him.