The night had fallen like a blade over the Northern Mountains. Shadows pooled in the valleys, stretching into unnatural forms, and the wind carried a taste of iron—blood, power, and the faint scent of something older than the world. Eryndor moved silently beside Mei Lin, each step a careful negotiation with the trembling earth. Even here, near the fallen star, the mountains pulsed with residual energy, twisting like living veins beneath their feet.
The Starved God coiled restlessly within him, hunger rising in waves. They've come… they've smelled the void. Finally, prey. Eryndor clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain calm, forcing the shadows to lie dormant beneath his skin. Mei Lin noticed immediately. Her eyes, sharp and precise as ever, flicked toward him. "Control it," she whispered, her voice low but urgent. "If it takes you, we're done. Both of us."
He nodded. Control… or be consumed.
The first presence appeared like a rift in the darkness, sliding silently from the ridges above. Its form was human-shaped, but impossibly distorted, as if the shadows themselves had been stitched into flesh. The silver-eyed stranger from before. But this time, it came with intent—a predator, not a watcher. Energy rippled outward, and Eryndor felt the mountains recoil slightly from its sheer weight.
"Eryndor," Mei Lin muttered, drawing subtle seals in the air, weaving a thin, flickering barrier between them. "Do not underestimate it. Its hunger mirrors yours… but it does not hesitate."
The entity's gaze landed on him, unblinking, molten silver eyes drilling into his soul. "You who carry the void… you draw the hunger. I am here to see if it feeds you… or destroys you."
The Starved God stirred violently, stretching against the boundaries of Eryndor's control. It smells the hunger. It will test me. Let it come.
Eryndor's veins blackened faintly beneath his skin as the shadows twined around him. "I do not feed on the living," he said quietly. "Not yet." The words were more for himself than for the stranger.
The creature lunged, faster than thought, a ripple of corrupted Qi trailing in its wake. The mountains shuddered as the air itself bent around its movement. Mei Lin's barrier flared violently, cutting off the first wave, though the force of the attack threw both of them backward. Rocks shattered under the energy, shards embedding themselves in the frozen ground.
Eryndor's body moved on instinct, the shadows lashing outward, merging with the Starred energy he had absorbed earlier. A black torrent spiraled around him, coiling like a living serpent, hungry, eager, and restrained only by his will. The stranger recoiled slightly, surprised by the raw, unrefined power—but then a faint smile crept across its face. "Interesting… you temper it. But restraint can be a weakness."
The Starved God hissed beneath his skin. Let me out. Let me consume. Eryndor's jaw tightened. Not now… not yet. He forced the darkness to coil tighter, to wait, to bide its time.
Mei Lin moved beside him, her eyes glowing faintly with protective energy. "Use the environment," she whispered, nodding toward a ridge above them. "Channel the mountains against it. Don't let it pin you down."
Eryndor obeyed, drawing the residual energy from the crater into his void, weaving the black currents into the jagged rocks around them. Rocks lifted, jagged shards spinning like blades, and the stranger's form blurred as it dodged and struck, trying to break his focus. Each clash sent echoes through the mountains, the sound of collapsing stone mingling with the hum of the Starred energy and the Starved God's low, hungry roar.
For a moment, the world narrowed to three: him, Mei Lin, and the shadow that challenged everything he thought he knew. Then the stranger lashed out again, faster than any mortal could comprehend, a strike designed to pierce both body and mind. Eryndor felt the hunger spike violently—the Starved God wanted release, craved the predator's essence, the taste of strength.
And for a heartbeat, he almost gave in.
Mei Lin's hand shot out, a pulse of pure energy cutting through the void, anchoring him. "Do not let it take you!" she yelled. Her voice was sharp, demanding, alive. That single touch grounded him, reminding him that the darkness within could be controlled. He forced the Starved God to coil back, twisting the shadows into a protective shell rather than a weapon of consumption.
The stranger paused, eyes narrowing, sensing the balance. "Ah… restraint. Clever." It tilted its head, silent for a long moment, and the wind stilled, the mountains holding their breath. Then it vanished—not fleeing, but watching, waiting.
Eryndor fell to one knee, sweat and blood trickling down his temple. The Starved God hissed, displeased, but silent, for now. Mei Lin approached slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You survived," she said quietly. "But it will return. Stronger. Hungrier. And it knows what you are."
Eryndor looked out over the jagged peaks, the black shadow of the stranger lingering in his mind's eye. "I know," he said softly. The hunger inside him stirred once more, dark and patient, whispering of power, of challenge, of inevitability. Let it come. We are ready.
The wind picked up again, carrying a faint pulse from the fallen star, a reminder that their journey had only begun. Somewhere in the depths of the mountains, another presence stirred—watching, waiting, drawn to the void that Eryndor carried. And in that darkness, the Starved God purred softly, eager, amused, and patient.
The first hunt had ended. But the war—the real hunger—was only beginning.