After a long walk, the boy reached his home. He'd spent the last four hours fishing and caught three fish: two small ones and one large one. He'd wrapped them in bandages to hide their scent from nearby creatures. The small ones fit inside his cloak—there were pockets sewn in—but the big one didn't, so he carried it in his hands.
The big fish was almost a meter long and, unlike the smaller catches, could be considered a 1st‑phase creature. His wolf, Luo, was also Phase 1—but among Phase 1s, Luo was an elite: stronger than the rest, with more complex powers thanks to his rare origin.
This big fish's ability was probably light‑based—many underwater creatures in the Inksworn Depths could manipulate light. This one had a massive jaw and a small glowing orb on its forehead. It looked terrifying, but he'd gotten used to horrors here.
When he finally arrived, he paused and looked at his home. Building it was tough. It was basically a giant broken tree with two other fallen trees serving as pillars. He had draped a massive cloth made of patched‑together dhune hides over it. The hides, pinned down with dhune claws, were nearly impossible to tear. He'd tried cutting a window for light but gave up after failing.
Inside, he could start small fires to cook. He'd made a smoke‑vent hole at the top of the hide cover, carefully sealed so smoke escaped but rain couldn't come in. Its funnel‑shape and single vent were enough; no need for more.
He felt a surge of emotion—he'd worked so hard on this shelter. He stepped inside with his fish. There was no door; instead, he'd removed a claw from the cloth's edge, created an opening, entered, then reinserted the claw to "lock" it.
On the ground lay various dhune hides, many from carcasses he hadn't killed. To eliminate the scent, he quickly passed each hide through Luo's spirit‑fire once—smoke burnt away both odor and blood.
The location itself was safe: a tiny forest grew into the lake—forming a peninsula. His home sat in its center, surrounded on three sides by water. It was far enough from the lake to avoid flooding, yet close enough for easy access. And in a land with no water, the nearby ink source was a blessing.
Inside, the structure had two rooms: a ground level and a second, tiny loft. He built a ladder up the largest standing tree to sleep in the loft. Below, the ground floor functioned as his kitchen/workshop. He had skeletons of dhune creatures and tools—swords, axes, spears made from bones. He'd heated them in spirit‑fire, then shaped and sharpened while hot.
His dagger, always at his side, was his best craft—remade from a 3rd‑phase dhune corpse. Level‑1 corpses were common; Level‑2, one per month; Level‑3 only once, including this dagger.
He shook off the clutter and went to his big, nearly flat work‑stone—his cutting table. Carved into it was:
Kyuvel
His name: pronounced "Yuel." He wrote it to remind himself—no one here called him by name. He traced the letters and felt a sting of sadness.
He placed the fish on the rock and grabbed his large cleaver. "Luo, come quick. If the smell spreads, they'll come."
Although Luo's white flame could serve various purposes, Yuel used it to eliminate strong cooking smells—and it worked. Predators didn't approach while Luo burned fish.
Moments later, Luo appeared—Yuel recognized his limping approach from the strained "Wofk" sound he managed to make, despite his injured jaw. Yuel opened the door and let his captain wolf inside.
Luo trotted over to the cut fish, opened his mouth, gathered white flame in his throat, and spat a small flame‑ball—like magic.
Phased creatures could use magic. Humans had stages—six to complete. The best humans only reached Stage 2. Luz was still below that; Yuel hadn't progressed in four years. It was humiliating.
Luo's flame roasted the fish—spirit fire didn't heat much, since its point was to burn away the soul-impression, not just cook. Still, it could get dangerously hot.
Luo curled at Yuel's feet as they waited. Seeing the white‑flame smiles, Yuel leaned back his head onto Luo's fur and closed his eyes.
Something soft brushed his face. Luo was licking him. Yuel scooped him into a hug and they played—a nice warm escape from their crammed home.
Then Yuel looked at the fish. Blackened. Damn.
Still—there was food. Better burned than none. Besides, Luo didn't care—he'd eat the entrails too, even the worst ones, so at least no waste.
They ate quickly; Yuel hadn't eaten since morning, and Luo was even hungrier.
After dinner, Yuel sensed the crystal light flickering. He realized the tunnel ceiling crystals only lit for five hours each day. When they fade, the forest plunges into darkness.
Without a clock, he estimated time by watching the glow. With no light now, it would soon be too dangerous outside—unless Luo was with him.
He readied his gear, lifted himself onto Luo's back, and grabbed his makeshift crystal‑glass flask—filled with ink, his only "water." He glanced at the mess: dhune bones and crafted tools everywhere, and thought, I should clean this someday…
With one last look, they set off.
The walk ahead would be long. In the Inksworn Depths, the only edible plants were trap‑fruits—beautiful but deadly. Many fruits looked luscious, advertised power—only to unleash traps: dhune, titans, even killer trees.
But some fruits had been cleverly concealed. Yuel had dared to try a few—little grape‑like pods bursting with seeds. He didn't take the obvious big ones (they were traps), only the hidden ones. Still, the bird guarding them was dangerous.
These fruits grew on an open hill—perfect for an aerial sentinel. But during daylight, the crystals' rays scared away all darkness-loving creatures—especially the bird. He thought it must be at least 2nd‑phase dhune, maybe even 4th phase titan. So he took one fruit, carefully.
As he walked across a wide field, the crystals shone bright. Then one crystal fell—like a shooting star—landing in the direction of his home. He thought, I should check that later.
He smiled softly and reached the trap‑fruit tree. The vines spread out on the ground, making picking easy. He plucked one and ate it. He wasn't hungry but needed evening food—night meant no more cooking.
He tucked the leftover seeds in his pocket—away from the bird's sight—and readied to return. Except then a hush fell…
"FLHHHHH"*
"N‑no, this can't be!"
Yuel turned as darkness fell at once. The crystals went out—every last one—in just seconds.
He had to run.
He dashed across the grasslands, pushing every inch of speed. Think he'd succeed—then a sound:
"KRRUUAAAKKK"*
That sound… definitely from the guardian bird.
"No, it can't have soaked in the dark again!"