"I hope there aren't any dangerous ones," Aylin murmured.
The conversation around the campfire had been circling back to the same place for a while now: the cursed creatures of the Ruined Lands. That acrid, rot-of-the-earth smell in the air grew a little heavier with every gust, filling their lungs as if to prove the girl's worry right.
"I hope so too," Tunay agreed. His voice was tired.
Just then Poyraz had gone completely deaf to what was being said.
The flickering light of the fire and the pale stars barely lit a dark detail right at the edge of the camp: a black sapling.
It was the very same frail plant they had seen in the cave that first day they fell into this world, while fleeing the shadow at their heels.
It had driven its thin roots into the sick, poisonous soil of the Ruined Lands and survived, as if in defiance of that barrenness.
While Poyraz couldn't tear his eyes from this mysterious sapling, Hak came over quietly and settled beside him. He didn't ask anything; he only looked in the same direction.
The unexpected question from Tunay, who was rummaging through his bag, broke the silence.
"Erlin, why is it that you always walk out in front while the old man follows you?"
Erlin paused for a few seconds before answering, as if weighing the words in his mind. At last he lifted his gaze from the fire and spoke.
"Because my 'kor' shows me the place I want to go."
That single sentence changed the air around the campfire in an instant. Tunay dropped his bag and slid eagerly toward the boy. Hak, who had only just sat down beside Poyraz, gave in to his curiosity and straightened up again. Even Aylin had leaned toward them without meaning to.
All three wanted to hear more about the kors.
"What do you mean?" asked Tunay, his eyes shining with excitement.
This time, surprisingly, the little boy didn't blush at all the intense attention. He answered normally.
"When there's a place I really want to go..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "A thread appears in front of me showing the way there. And this thread traces the shortest route to take me to my goal."
He pointed with his hand toward the dark mountains in the distance.
"The day the master and I found you, we used these threads too. That day the master noticed a ripple in the air and dragged me all the way to that area. Then we found your footprints on the ground. And I followed the threads leading to the owner of those prints — to you."
"You said it shows the shortest way... But what about the safest? What happens if those threads take us straight through the nests of dangerous creatures? Can your kor tell danger apart?"
The worry in Aylin's voice was palpable.
Erlin contented himself with a whispered "No." That one-word answer was enough to make them face the reality of the Ruined Lands.
"And if you wanted to find a place you've never been to, only heard the name of? Or a lost object. Even a person. Is it enough just to intend it, or do you need a connection, like a footprint?"
The words fell from Hak's lips at greater length than at any point since they'd left the village.
Erlin lowered his eyes and shook his head from side to side.
"No, brother Hak."
When Erlin said 'brother,' Hak's pupils shrank for a fraction of a second. It was such a fleeting reaction that only a careful observer would have caught it.
For a time no one spoke; everyone was digesting this new information in their minds. Hak slowly moved away and sat back down beside Poyraz.
Poyraz's gaze was still absently fixed on the black sapling. Hak looked at the frail plant as well, but couldn't see what it was about it that so entranced Poyraz.
The way the two of them were locked with all their focus on the sapling had drawn Erlin's attention. The boy came closer.
"Are you watching the 'Kutlug' sapling? My master said they can grow anywhere. Even inside lava, inside poison... A truly stubborn plant."
The absent haze in Poyraz's eyes parted.
"Kutlug? The name of this sapling is Kutlug?"
Erlin nodded in confirmation.
With that confirmation, another silence fell. But this time it was short.
Poyraz began muttering to himself, though everyone could hear.
"The Path of Kut and the Kutlug sapling... Both have 'Kut' in their names. A connection, or a coincidence? What does 'Kut' even mean?"
"Kut..." Erlin had no answer to give.
Instead Tunay murmured. His eyes were fixed on the hypnotic flames of the campfire.
"In one of the old mythologies..." he said in a distant voice. "Kut... is told of as a divine power bestowed by the Heavens. A life force. And a fortune."
Poyraz could only manage a "Hmm." This information, rather than untangling the knot in his head, had only pulled it tighter.
In that very second, a voice came down like a knife into the middle of his thoughts.
"On your guard!"
Yalaz's booming shout first made the five jump where they sat, then, within seconds, sent all of them reaching for their weapons on reflex.
The languor of the campfire was wiped away in an instant. As Hak leapt to his feet and turned his back to the fire, Aylin instinctively took a step back and put Erlin behind her as a shield. Whatever was coming at them out of the darkness, its steps were making the ground tremble.
Everyone but Tunay drew the daggers hanging at their belts. Tunay slid his sword from its sheath and took his stance.
Poyraz strained his ears, listening to these steps echoing in the deep silence of the night. He was still trying to make sense of the sounds when Hak spoke.
"It's coming from over there — a lot of them." He was pointing his dagger at a spot in the distance. Nothing could be seen through the dark.
That was the frightening part. They didn't know what was coming. A few seconds later, sounds of battle mixed with screams began to come from far off.
Poyraz held his breath. In one hand he gripped the dagger Garrun had given him, while he turned his other hand toward the earth. He would hurl a stone at the first target he saw — with magic.
But he wasn't sure he could do it quickly enough. He had learned the earth spell, sure enough; but pushing the Yelvi in his head down into his body, turning it through the memorized shapes, then getting it to his hands still took a long time.
Every corner, every angle in the memorized sequence stole another second from him. And right now, seconds were a fortune.
The screams drew nearer. The footsteps multiplied. All five stood back to back before the fire.
In the darkness of the night they still couldn't see a thing. The two stars and the countless satellites that normally lit the steppes of the Ruined Lands at night seemed to have chosen this very moment not to illuminate the place where they stood.
It was as if the sky had become their enemy.
Poyraz was just about to glance at the others out of the corner of his eye when a dark shape appeared in front of Hak.
Suddenly a dark shape appeared right in front of Hak. Hak swung his dagger without hesitation, but an iron-hard hand seized his wrist and stopped him. He was losing the contest of strength.
"Calm down!" came a booming voice.
Only then could Hak make out who stood before him. The old man had Yavuz under one arm, and with the sword in his other hand he was blocking Hak's dagger.
The moment Hak lowered his dagger, Yalaz set the young man in his arm down on the ground.
When the firelight struck their faces, Poyraz saw that both were drenched in blood. So much so that blood was dripping from Yalaz's sword drop by drop.
Yavuz's sword, on the other hand, was clean apart from dust and rust.
As Yavuz staggered over to join them, the old man spoke.
"What we're facing are lumps of flesh. They have no special ability and no weakness! The only thing you have to do is tear them apart until they die."
Before the echo of his voice had even faded, he plunged into the darkness and vanished from sight.
Poyraz stared after him. Had the old man left them alone to test them, or was there something out there in the dark that only he could handle? But he'd rather it was the first.
The gap Yalaz left behind began to fill with heavy, squelching footsteps.
And a few seconds later, their first enemies stepped into the boundary lit by the fire.
True to their name, the flesh lumps were indeed made of flesh. Like many wads of dough merging into a single one, muscle, fat, and blood had come together to form a crooked, human-like shape.
They had limbs resembling arms and legs, but none of them functional; they only dangled from a mound of flesh. The smell it gave off overpowered even the rotten-earth stench of the Ruined Lands.
The first creature made for Tunay. It had no mouth to bite with and no hard arm to strike with. So it simply threw itself directly at Tunay.
Tunay swung his sword. The sharp steel cut the flesh in two without effort. The upper body slumped to the ground, the lower half stayed standing.
But Tunay couldn't rejoice. The piece that had fallen quickly climbed back up the lower body, and the cut surfaces instantly fused together.
Tunay swung again, but this time he didn't stop. He swung his sword over and over; he split the creature into three, four, five pieces. Lumps of flesh scattered everywhere.
But the bloody pieces were already trembling on the ground and beginning to crawl back toward one another.
Just then, a second body slipping out of the darkness turned straight for Poyraz.
Poyraz's heart skipped. He pressed his hand to the earth and reached for the Yelvi in his head. He pushed it into his body; the energy resisted as always, leaving the familiar sting where it passed. He began turning the memorized shapes — square, triangle, circle...
The creature drew close. One step. Two steps.
The shapes jumbled together in his mind; the energy in his hands scattered like water slipping through his palm.
The spell failed.
At the last instant he flung himself aside and swung his dagger. The steel sank into the flesh lump's shoulder, but the creature didn't stop; the wound closed instantly, just as it had with Tunay's. Poyraz sprang back, breathless. Once again, at the very moment he needed it most, his magic had blown up in his hands.
Tunay lowered his sword and drew a deep breath. He looked at the mounds of flesh scattered around him, still crawling toward one another.
"Tear them apart until they die, huh?"
Poyraz wanted to laugh, but couldn't.