Chapter Text
The winds from the east whipped through the peaks of the North Mountains. The small tops of ice reflected the sun, the glare making the lilac-haired man squint away as he undid the harness that hung lax at his waist. His hair ruffled in the aftermaths of the breeze leftover from the gust, working quickly to undo the rope and let it drag behind him as he hurried into a nook hidden from the onslaught.
The man’s fingers were pale, blotched with red and trembling as he pulled off his dampened gloves, tucking them within the inner pocket of his winter vest. The layers didn’t seem to be enough, the thick wools and thinned out furs stuffed against his chest providing warmth that only sufficed when his head wasn’t in the clouds of the icy North. He reached his bare hands, now burning hot with how cold the surroundings were, to his face, experimentally pushing against his lips. He couldn’t feel a thing, his face having fallen numb as time passed, sensations all dulled out and everything beginning to move slow.
He wouldn’t make it like this. There was an alarm in his head and even that felt drowned out and distant— that was how Sys truly understood— he wasn’t making it out alive if this continued. With his fingers now victim to the bite of the cold, he forced them to move, loop the rope clumsily in his belt with what motor skills he had left and then clasp around the strap of his satchel. With a firm grasp, he began moving, pulling his scarf higher up to cover his face as he shuffled along the side of the mountain, thousands of feet in the air. He kept his chin tucked down, seeking some comfort from the warmth of his beloved scarf— trying to hold onto the smells of spice, paper and herbs that reminded him of home.
He felt his foot slip on a particularly thin stretch of walkway, the ice that was below his feet slipping down the mountainside, threatening to pull Sys along with the motion. The man managed to grasp a hand out quick enough, stone cutting through skin and biting but he grabbed onto the surface and held on, watching the ice that could’ve been him tumble down the great fall into the rocky doom below.
He didn’t have the strength to let out a breath of relief, body pulled taut. For a few moments, he held himself still, eyes screwed shut, breath faint and winded, puffs of white that became one with the background as he tried to settle his heart rate. He didn’t want to die. He started again, dragging himself forwards along the mountainside. His left hand was bleeding now, searing red into snow and tinting it a pink that was Sys’ favourite colour. At this rate, it would be the last colour he saw.
Sys stepped around a protrusion of rock, trying to mind his step the best he could, the wind threatening to knock him over. He stumbled into another divet in the rock, a place shaded from the sun and the wind. He stopped for a moment, pulling at his sleeves, pulling at his vest as he struggled to breathe, face lifting up from his scarf as he tried to take large gulps of air in. Sys was leaning back, an attempt to rest his back against the rock wall, when instead he felt nothing behind him. His weight tipped back and his body follow ensuite, the weight of all his clothing all too easily making him a dead-weight.
With a solid thud, the man fell backwards, damage from the fall lessened by the satchel underneath him that let out a horrifying crunch as his body crushed the contents within it. Sys let out a groan, so exhausted and cold he couldn’t even register the loss. He managed to turn himself to the side, body curling into a ball as he shuddered once, twice and then he lay still for a moment.
“C’mon,” Sys’ voice croaked through chapped and lifeless lips, “get up.” When his body didn’t seem to listen, he tried again, this time turning so that his palms could find the floor, pushing himself up a little. “Come on, Sys,” he muttered to himself, extending his arms underneath him as he managed to find his feet.
He pushed himself to a stand, unstable as he staggered, uncut hand reaching out to hold his weight up as he looked where he was. There seemed to be some sort of space in the wall, no wider than a metre and Sys couldn’t see far enough to know how long it was. He didn’t need much prompting to decide moving forwards, feet dragging through the darkness, the light from behind him the only thing that kept him from being surrounded by nothingness. Eventually, that light began growing distant but so did the cold, a little shelter from the wind and the howling as he focused on putting one step in front of the other.
Eventually, there was only darkness around him, Sys trying to keep moving forward in hopes there would be a space wide enough for him to sit, maybe even set up camp for the night, start a fire— he clenched his fist against the wall as he kept pushing forwards. It was hard like this, with him not being able to see anything, no goal in sight and so he just had to hope on nothing that he’d be able to make it somewhere before he collapsed.
Sys wasn’t sure if the darkness had begun playing tricks on him, maybe even a cruel result of his fatigued mind but he swore that he could see something ahead. As he walked, it didn’t seem to go away, not even when he blinked his eyes and looked away. It was there when he looked back, persistent. He kept going, the thing becoming a dot, Sys swearing that it was growing bigger but couldn’t be too sure. After a few minutes of working, the dot had turned into a small circle, Sys certain now that there was something there. He quickened his pace, a bout of adrenaline making the heaviness in his legs lighten, desperate to reach his target. As the circle grew wider, the walls of the passage he was walking through seemed to become more irregular, bumps in the wall that Sys had to walk around, the width thinning out and making Sys squeeze his way through— but he was undeterred, watching the circle become a definite source of light. And light meant warmth.
Frankly, that seemed impossible but Sys was not going to question it as he stumbled over his own numb feet, pace turning into a frantic half-jog. The light was now pouring through the space, a gradient from darkness to light as Sys squeezed his way through another tight gap in the wall until he was stumbling out the other side, the light washing over him.
He stood still for a moment. The long passage had led him into a wide space, a dull glowing light coming from a fireplace that seemed to be fixed into a wall, small flames still burning unattended. The light wasn’t too bright, the orange of the fire not even reaching the walls, Sys not able to get a good gauge of how wide or high the little space was.
There was the smell of fresh roast and pine, the earthy scent from the walls and ground below him— even hints of herbs and peculiar plants that Sys couldn’t seem to identify. He spotted a cot to the side of the fire, in front of its warmth and he didn’t hesitate as he made his way forwards.
He was slumping down against the bedding, eyes closed as he numbly moved his limbs, pulling over a fur he managed to grab and covered his body with it. Once his eyes were closed, he didn’t have the strength to open them again— shuddering as he scrunched himself into a tight ball, feeling like a block of ice melting in the summerC desperately rejoicing in the waves of warmth that pass through him.
The adrenaline seemed to be dying out and a tiredness so dire took over him. He couldn’t even think of a thing before he was falling into a restless sleep.
❀
Sys drifted in and out of bouts of consciousness, his body seeming to fluctuate through chills and then flushes of heat. At one point, the man had pulled his scarf on during his rest, pulled out a few furs from underneath his clothes and loosened the strings of his vest in a failed attempt to take it off. He struggled to sleep because of the blistering heat he felt and then woke because of a bone-crushing cold that seemed to consume every part of him and ice his nerves out.
This pattern was the only thing enough to budge the man, eventually the temperatures regulating out till Sys was clothed in his long-sleeve blouse, vest, his beige pants and one fur draped over his body as he rested by the pleasant heat of the fire. Then, Sys slept as soundlessly as a stone, deep breaths the only movement from underneath the fur, hours passing without so much as stirring as he let his exhausted body recover.
When Sys finally woke, it was gently, eyes peeling open for a moment, lost in a dream that escaped him the moment he seems to regain consciousness. Everything seemed darker, panic taking over him for a moment as he tried to recall what was the last place he’d been. Had he died on the side of the mountain? He lay still for a moment, then dared to move ever so slightly. He felt a thick weight of a fur laying atop him, moving along and caving in the height for him as he stirred. He glanced around and spotted small flecks of light, embers barely clinging on to the spot and splinters left in the aftermath of a fire. He remembered in pieces how he’d gotten here, remembered that there was a fire he should tend to to stay alive.
Despite his body’s protests, Sys pushed himself up into a sitting position, a dull ache in his limbs as he tried to make something of his surroundings. It was entirely too dark, the fire needing to restart before Sys could even hope to analyse his situation.
The man managed to pull his legs off the cot, a ginger hiss as his ice cold feet touched the floor, a bout of pins and needles pillaging their way up and down his legs ruthlessly. Sys bared his teeth and moved his weight to his feet, hands still on the cot as he waited out the brutal numbness that made him taste static in his mouth.
Once his feet were ready, he took slow steps, in no rush to tumble and fall with his body as weakened as it was. He shuffled through the dark, fur wrapped tightly around him as he walked. He hit his shin against something, biting back a yelp of pain as he hissed out an Ow. Next, he stubbed his toe so hard he swore he blacked out for a second, pain so palpable he wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Finally, his foot snagged on a something and managed to send him almost careening to the floor, stumbling and catching himself just before he made contact with the ground.
To his luck, he’d managed to kick over a pile of logs, a few pieces clattering close to the fire place, enough to make out what they were from the sound and the light of the embers.
With a careful hand, Sys took one of the logs, the weight heavy in his hand but he seemed to be strong enough to heft the weight up and place it into the fire pit beside a certain set of embers. Next, Sys made his way back to his satchel, fetching one of his journals to tear a piece of parchement out. With the piece in his hand, he held the torn parchment over the ember, letting them kiss ever so gently as he cupped a hand around his mouth and blew a soft stream of air.
The ember seemed to respond, glowing a little brighter, Sys giving a few more whooshes of air before he saw the ember create smoke on the paper. A few more moments and a small flame caught onto the side of the parchement, Sys wasting no time in moving the log to the centre of the fireplace so that he could position the parchment on top of the log and watch the fire restart.
With a relieved sigh that he managed to save his source of warmth, Sys folded his legs to the side daintily and placed himself in front of the fire. He watched as the fire started gnawing away at the log, small flame yet a happy glow lighting up his face, warming the skin with a persistent ferocity. When the flame was big enough, Sys placed a few more logs into the space, watching the fire grow.
He didn’t mind when the heat of the fire turned to the side of painful on his face, was grateful that he could feel warmth again when he remembered all too well what it felt like to have none. He idly stoked the flames with an extra log he had to the side, taking care to not let it catch fire.
He took his time to count the logs: there were enough to last at least a week sitting beside the fire pit, organised into a pyramid taller than Sys. As the room began warming up again, he choose to stand and have a look around, leaving the fur back on the cot, folded neatly at the foot of the resting place.
He did his duty to pick up the clothes he had scattered in his fitful sleep, layers of clothing piling up in his arms as he carried them to the fire. He used a few of the logs to pile up a tower a safe distance from the fire and off to the side, a rack to place his clothes and let them dry off in the heat of the fire without blocking out the light from the fireplace.
His fingers still felt a little rubbery, like they’d forgotten how to bend and move so Sys made a point of rubbing his hands together as he began moving through the space. Now, with the fire up, there was enough light to see where the walls were of the space. Sys supposed he could consider himself in a cave of sorts, the roof and sides curved and high, a sturdy stone-like quality to them. Opposite the passage Sys had made his way through, he noted that there was another opening to the space that was blocked by a boulder easily triple Sys’ size. The man had no hope of moving it, not that he had any intention of doing so if what was on the other side was anything similar to where Sys had just escaped from.
The inside was surprisingly clean and well-kept for a cave in a mountain; even more alarming was the fact that there seemed to be someone who occupied this space. There was one cot, the one that Sys had found and slumbered in and another cot four times larger than that one. There was a large armchair, seemingly a little old from use but still plush, seated close to the fire, towering up above Sys’ height even when he was at his full height.
There was a protrusion in the wall: a rectangular surface that jutted out and then seemed to crumble at an incline back into the wall; it seemed to double as a workbench of some sorts, simple numbing herbs and crude knives of stone resting there in no particular order.
Sys took it upon himself to open his satchel on the table, removing the broken jars from his fall and placing the glass to one side. He fished out one of his vitamin vials, relieved to find that still in tact. He pulled out the dried herbs and used the flat, medicinal pallete knife in his bag to flatten out the flowers, smearing the purple colour out and scooping it into the vial. He watched the yellow-ish liquid mix with his paste, spinning the vial around until the concoction was a pleasant lilac. He drank the draught in one gulp, the warm aroma and taste of sweetness burning his way down his throat as he waited for the relaxing properties to kick in.
He took a breath as he felt his limbs ease up a little, still an ache in them that the medicine would need some time to fully dull but for now, Sys thinks, this will do.
It was obvious that this place belonged to someone— and not just had belonged to someone— since when Sys got here, he distinctly remember the fire had been burning.
With that thought in his head, he glanced around to look at the walls. There was one wall that had an instalment of weaponery fixed up on the wall, battle axes and clubs, all alarmingly enough, the size of Sys, if not occasionally bigger.
Just another one of the things in the cave that made him feel like he had shrunk three sizes down and the world had become bigger around him.
Sys wasn’t too sure if he’s fancy meeting the resident of this place.
But then again, Sys considered the entryway he’d come through, how he himself with his slim waist and delicate body barely managed to squeeze through…
He can’t expect that whoever lived here could actually carry those weapons. Perhaps they were for show? A sign of wealth? A collector’s item? But which wealthy heir would live in some cave in the North Mountains collecting what looked like beast weaponery.
Unless of course, perhaps it was just a beast who lived here. That option, Sys decided, would need another vitamin relaxment draught which he didn’t have the resources to waste so he decided to pass on it for now.
With fellow humans, Sys was more than capable of going above and beyond. He had always been considered quite the charmer— a tall set of legs, broad shoulders, strong hips and an impish glint to his eyes. People often whispered of him during their adventures: the man with the lilac hair, the one with the gorgeous smile, the one who took the prince’s breath away— Sys was well known for being just what he was: a daring adventurer with a flair for romance and dramatics.
His charm wasn’t all just in fruitless words and grandiose titles, he had plenty of experience to back each swing of his hips— his first kiss a siren who tried and failed to pull him under; his first love a fae who was bewitched by his wit; his first time a prince who had sent Sys letters ever since; on and on, Sys’ list of expertise seemed to grow as he took the world by its reins and explored the lands, always to return home with a story or two.
Home, Sys thought wistfully, dropping to check on the fire for a moment, eyes glazing over as the flames wave in their intricate way. I miss home.
Sys had to stop himself there, running the risk of growing sentimental when what he needed was a plan to make it off this mountain. Crying and moping now would do no good but ruin his rest and his skin.
He would find his way out of this place.
Then, he’d think of home.
❀
With most of Sys’ clothes dried, laid out flat and set aside on the larger cot, the man grasped that the better half of a day (or night) had passed. Inside a cave, there was no indicator of time, Sys couldn’t tell if it was day or night or somewhere in between. He found that he could tell how many hours had passed though by watching the burning of the logs. One regular log usually burned for around three hours but the thickness of these logs seemed to hold out for a couple more. Sys approximated each log to have a burn time of four to five hours, measuring it by how fast his clothes usually dried.
He wasn’t sure how many hours, or even days, when he’d fallen unconscious; he just had to hope that the weather could ease up even a little for when he gained enough strength to continue his journey.
Sys sat by the fire, his cut hand resting palm up on his knee as he tore the lower part of one of his shirts to use as a makeshift bandage. With the antibacterial herbs already smeared on his palm, Sys carefully began wrapping his bandage round his hand, covering the wound as he let his thoughts wander.
There was still a glaring problem as he grimaced through the sting of the wound: there was no food. His stomach had begun rumbling a few hours back and now it throbbed, aching in protest of its emptiness. He had tried to search the cave for any food but it seemed that he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find any food in the hull of rock.
Sys wasn’t sure how to make amends to this problem. It seemed that he needed to gain his strength back to go back out into the blistering snowstorm, however he needed to eat to gain his strength, which of course meant he had to go out to find food, but that was impossible in his state— when his logic seemed to turn circular, Sys decided enough was enough and he would turn in to the smaller cot and postpone his worries after some more rest.
❀
A sound scraped so loud that Sys felt like he was peeling apart, could taste the sharpness of the frequency through his dreams, jolting in the cot and sending the furs falling to the floor. Sys say up instantly, grabbing onto the edge of the coverings instinctually as he listened out for any further sounds. The cave fell silent and Sys glanced around, the fire burning on its last log. As he looked around the cave, Sys couldn’t identify what had disturbed his sleep. Perhaps it was part of a dream, something that his mind had just conjured up.
With that thought, Sys let his shoulders relax, his tiredness coming back as he began to wind down again.
A sharp screech sound and this time Sys had his eyes wide open, conscious enough to know that it was coming from the other side of the cave. He turned his head, looking at the side of the cave where the boulder was, the noise seeming to come from there.
To Sys’ horror, the cave gave a tremble as he watched the walls shake, the man unable to move as he saw a break of light from underneath the boulder.
Light? Impossible.
The boulder was somehow being lifted, the light from the other side now streaming in, sipping around the large rock as it moved. Sys was scrambling, instinct kicking in as he jumped off the cot and grabbed and took his fur coverings. In a haste, he threw his body under the larger cot, crawling his way underneath far enough so that he couldn’t be seen.
There was bright light coming in the entirety of the gave, the sudden gust of cold sweeping through the space and making Sys shudder as he pursed his lips to hold the sound in.
As soon as the boulder had been moved, it was being placed back, Sys watching the light shrinking back and disappearing back from where he lay.
His vision was largely obscured, the cot covering everything as he lay eye level with the ground; the only thing that he could make out was a pair of sandals, feet so large that Sys paled when they began to move, the tremendous weight of them resounding through the cave. There was something being dragged along the floor behind the feet, something that left a trail, smearing its way past as the feet walked to the other side of the cave. The light of the fire seemed to catch on the floor and illuminate the trail— a red liquid, thick and bright enough to make Sys’ eyes widen.
He clasped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his gasp but it seemed that he was too slow. The sound was tiny, nothing more than an inhale that broke the stillness ever so slightly but he knew it was loud enough when the feet came to an abrupt pause.
He squeezed his eyes shut, silently cursing himself.
The stillness was palpable, the moments of quiet where Sys held his breath with eyes shut as he waited. There was a sound, a shuffling and then a definite thunk .
When he opened his eyes, the feet had turned around back towards Sys’ cot, the weight that was dragging behind now dropped to the floor, a large mass of something that couldn’t be named in the lowlights of a flickering campfire. Like this, the feet seemed to move a little freer, no weight carried as they approached. If Sys had to guess, each foot was around double the size of his head— even a little bigger. He felt himself fist a hand into the fur when he saw the feet begin to move.
It felt like there wasn’t enough time for Sys to think of what his next plan was, the seconds passing by as the feet approached closer and closer, the power of the steps were enough to rattle the ground beneath Sys.
Sys can’t think of anything except staying still. His mind raced through the other options, playing them out as fast as lightning through his head. There weren’t many other alternatives in the position he wasin— laying on his stomach underneath a cot. A quick getaway was next to impossible: the noise he’d make crawling out, the scramble of his feet and an attempt to run past whatever was in the room with him… all of it was a risk that he wasn’t sure would pay off.
Sys held his breath with the weight of his decision, realising as the feet covered the space between Sys and whatever doom awaited him, that his adventures around the world may be coming to an end right here in a cave in the North Mountains.
Gods, Sys thought as he closed his eyes, what an awful way to go.
When the sounds of footsteps stopped, Sys finally peeled his eyes open again, not knowing what to do when he saw the feet had come to a halt right in front of the cot he was under.
Sys had heard stories, the countless tales of the creatures that tore adventurers apart. In his line of business, the risk seemed far higher than the rewards and perhaps that’s why he was marked as a mad man— the misfortunes of those who’d passed through the mountains before him were not great enough to deter him from his stubborn mission. Yet, he had never thought this was the way it would end… he could never imagine himself gruesomely maimed and left to die in some cave away from everything. It really wasn’t in his style.
Sys watched as a hand, large and shadowed by the lowlights, curled around the underside of the cot. He didn’t so much as breathe, breath held firmly behind the tight line of his lips, body hot with the nerves bundled up within him as he felt sweat begin to line his skin. A creak and to Sys’ dread, he watched as the cot he was using as a hiding place began to lift.
He was going to get caught. Everything moved slowly, each frame lasting an eternity and Sys felt a kick of adrenaline as the cot lifted closer to the point of no return. There was no other choice. He mustered a deep breath, balling his fists in a shaky resolve.
The cot lifted in increments and when Sys deemed the gap big enough, he moved himself onto his knees, readying for the gap to increase ever so slightly…
Right before the thing that was doing the lifting could recognise what it was looking at, Sys pushed his hands against the floor, levering his body upwards and through the gap. Sys scrambled out from underneath the covering.
There was a noise behind him, a grunt of confusion but Sys had no time to register what could possibly make that noise, too busy running away from the flickering campfire and towards the only means of escape he could think of— the small passage that he arrived through. His bare feet were hitting the stone below him, cold and unrelenting but he couldn’t stop. Thoughts of how he would never survive the cold in what he was wearing— shirt, vest and no covering for his feet— plagued him, he knew he’d be a dead man the moment he stepped out. When he heard a roar of rage behind him deep enough to shake each hair on his body to a stand, Sys decided that the risk was worth it.
He was halfway through the cave, moving blindly the further he went from the light source, darkness becoming more and more prominent as he seeked out the cave wall. Despite the difficulty of sight, being an adventurer meant that Sys’ spatial awareness and sense of direction was superb. Despite those things considered, it didn’t mean there weren’t things Sys couldn’t avoid. His feet flashed like lightning, soles kicking behind him as he powered forwards, so quick he couldn’t stop when he felt the familiar friction of stone change. His foot landed in a puddle of something liquid and most importantly: slippery. The once stable ground now damning Sys as he was sent sliding, foot moving backwards unexpectedly and sending his body lurching forwards.
The ground came quickly to meet him but miraculously, he didn’t land on his face, arms scrambling to catch his fall. With time he didn’t have, he tried to straighten his flailing, moving shakily with the fear that came when being followed. Sys was sure he was near the wall, raising his arms out in anticipation as he continued running forwards. His palms hit the wall first, elbows buckling with the force in which he ran, the rest of his body struggling to accomodate for the sudden stop and slamming into the wall a second after his hands.
His head was ringing with the sound of the collision, didn’t stop even whenSys pried himself off the wall and continued to move. He scrambled his way along the wall in a hurry, trying to find the small crevice he’d squeezed his way through before. He noted that the thudding hadn’t stopped— in fact, each thud was growing louder as they came. He tried to ignore it, feeling his desperation climb up through his throat as his breathing quickened to the point of a stabbing pain in his chest.
His hand finally dipped into the gap in the wall, his arm instantly pressing its way through. Relief washed over him, Sys moving to let the rest of his body follow, shoulder going next, squeezing through the tight press between two walls of rock. The thuds were getting so loud that Sys was realising that maybe they weren’t in his head or the sound of his pulse, maybe they were coming from right behind him. It was that thought that made him quicken the pace.
He wringed his limbs through, left arm, shoulder, then he begun moving the rest of his way into the space. He ignored the bite of the walls, ignored the cruelness of the rocks that scraped his arms, ignored the trickles of blood he felt down his back as the walls dug into him mercilessly, pressure building from all sides.
He was almost halfway through, tipping himself forward so his head could attempt to turn and slide into the hole but he wasn’t able to do it— the motion stopped when something slammed into the back of Sys’ head. He felt his entire body rock and then there was a grip on the back of his neck, the air from Sys’ lungs siphoning out as his body was yanked backwards like it didn’t weigh a thing. Sys felt his hands try to scramble, arms trying to hold himself in the wall but the grip tightened until Sys couldn’t even feel his limbs anymore, circulation cut short. Sys was pulled backwards, the spine-numbing power that had a hold of him killing his fight before he even had a chance to put one up.
The grip was so strong, Sys felt his mind go blank, could barely process a thought except for the raging fear that filled him to the top, unable to take a breath in. He couldn’t lament on his capture, every sensation staticky and drilling him to a bundle of nerves that had all been set alight— pins and needles racking his limp body as he was out the crevice and held up like a kitten by his nape, up and at the mercy of whatever held him.
With three thunderous strides, whatever beast had captured Sys and brought him back to the other side of the cave (far from Sys’) escape and with one toss, Sys was no longer being held, but instead flying towards the campfire in a dizzy bout of lose consciousness.
Sys couldn’t so much as take a breath as he was thrown to the ground, spinning over himself a few times before coming to a clattering stop just shy of the fireplace. He had been winded from the force he’d hit the ground, his ribs aching from the tenderness of his body and now the jarring motion of trying to rewatch his breath desperately, turning himself onto his back as he stared at the ceiling of his cave and wondered if he was going to die when he couldn’t feel the air rush back into his lungs.
He thought for a moment, perhaps that was best— perhaps if his lungs decided to never work again he really could die, let everything that could happen end right there. It would surely be more merciful than whatever else was waiting for him. With his body earnestly trying to pull air in but Sys willing himself to never be successful, Sys lay there on the floor with the flames beside him and the creature in the cave watching.
And finally, to Sys’ dismay, he found his lungs kickstarting, his brain crying out with relief as once again he remembered how to breathe. As the air came in, so did the rest of Sys’ sensations— the tingling of his toes dying down, the bruise on his arm and the back of his neck, the warmth of the fire on the right side of his face, flames no bigger than a hand, flickering low almost as if they were cowering in fear of what was to come next.
“Little runt,” a voice boomed and Sys decided that he had never heard a voice more angry and filled with hatred than this voice, “you dare step into my domain.”
Sys couldn’t manage to utter a word in response, not that he wanted to. He couldn’t imagine any good coming out of smart-mouthing a monster. Instead, he wanted to curl into a ball and squeeze his eyes shut, he wanted to hope that this was all some wicked nightmare that if he tried hard enough he could will away.
“Where did your courage go, runt?” The beast boomed, the sounds of heavy steps clobbering their way towards Sys. “You seemed to have used it all up on that poor excuse of a getaway.” Sys pulled his eyes closed as the steps came closer, laying impossibly still. He felt something nudge into his side, press right into his ribs and he had to bite back the urge to hiss out, worked harder to keep his face neutral. “Don’t tell me the thing is dead,” the voice grumbled to itself. “One throw and its eyes don’t open.”
The idea was forming as it came, Sys deciding to hold himself motionless, hoping— praying— that there’s a god in the heavens who favours him. Sys heard some motion, the rustling of cloth as he felt something loom closer to him— over him.
“I can’t quite tell what it is—” the voice was quieter now, less ground-shaking authority and more pensive but the undeniable deepness still held Sys still with fear “— it very well might be a fae but they know better I would think.” Sys felt himself fight a shudder when something poked into his cheek, feeling a few hairs move off his closed eyes. “Perhaps… human? Although, I have never seen a human like this one.” The hand left Sys’ face but the man was certain that the creature was still there, couldn’t dare even a breath. “Look at all this… the thing made a home here. It certainly is stupid enough to be a human.”
With that, the warmth of the creature was moving back and the rustling was back. A few steps and Sys heard the thing moving away from him slowly, loitering around the cave. There was the sound of wood scraping and when Sys heard something clatter close to his head, he recognised that another log had been added to the fire. Sys felt himself take a breath in but he didn’t dare open his eyes just yet, not sure if it was safe to do so. The creature was moving around the cave now, the sound almost leisurely but it was hard to tell with the weight of each step.
Perhaps it was the curse of curiosity, but Sys couldn’t quite help himself when he finally dared to crack an eye open ever so slightly. The cave was getting lighter now, the fire helping brighten the space now that it had been added to. Sys let his other eye open, rolling his gaze around until he spotted the thing moving in the corner.
The creature had its back turned towards Sys, seeming to be loitering around the table that Sys had prepared his unfinished treatments on. Sys regarded it.
The shape of the creature resembled that of a human— arms, legs, head all in the same place Sys’ were— however the frame of the creature was large— very large. Its height almost hit the roof of the cave when it straightened up and that made it easily double Sys’ height, perhaps even more. The light was showing skin so pale it was a cool grey, solid and opaque, the shade of a darkening thundercloud. Perhaps most alarming (and intriguing) was the apparent lack of clothing the creature was wearing: a criss-cross leather strap harnessing a large axe and sword onto its back, a cloth that wrapped around its hips and just covered its behind and front, a set of leather sandals that held a pair of large feet and nothing more.
Sys watched as the creature seemed to push around the materials he had been using earlier, almost suspicious as it bent a little lower to sniff at them and then pull back in a displeased manner. The creature seemed to pick up Sys’ small dagger that he’d (stupidly) left on the table, the only weapon Sys had brought with him and stare at it. In the creature’s hand, the dagger was so small it almost looked comical, the creature turning it around in its hand before bringing it up to his teeth and picking in between them with it. Something about the action made it dawn on Sys how doomed he was.
When the creature proceeded to fiddle with the contents of Sys’ satchel on the table, the man decided that this was the best time, if any, to escape once and for all. The problem was that the creature was standing on the side of the wall that Sys needed to be, leaving it near impossible for him to try another getaway without being caught. Sys needed time to try and wiggle his way through the hole in the cave wall, he learnt he couldn’t rush his way through and that was what made this task truly impossible to succeed. While Sys could sneak around, the distance the creature was from the hole in the wall and the time it would take for Sys to escape were all too many factors that he couldn’t count on and this time— he really couldn’t hope on the mercy of dumb luck.
It was decided then. The only course of action would be to take the creature down by force. Even the thought felt like nonsense, Sys watching the creature tear his bag open with no effort. Sys swallowed thickly. He didn’t know how long it would take for the creature’s interest to be lost and taken back to Sys, he didn’t know if the creature would throw Sys out or harvest his organs and feast on them. Frankly, Sys wasn’t keen to find out what type of beast the creature even was. With all that settled to himself, Sys realised that he’d need a weapon. Currently, his precious dagger was being bent in the hands of the monster he was trying to run from so that option was not ideal.
Sys’ head turned to look around the cave carefully, trying to make little noise despite the fact that the creature was clearly preoccupied. He looked at the different things around, momentarily eyeing the wall of weapons that were far too big for him. He thought for a second, truly considered pulling down one of the clubs, dragging it along and somehow clobber the beast over the head without being noticed. Sys didn’t really like his chances.
Instead, his eyes returned to the fire close to him, the only other thing that could offer some answers. Sys wished he could somehow take the fire and throw it at the creature but he knew that was impossible. He watched the flames for a moment, gaze flickering to the pile of logs as he considered the weight of them and the heft. Sys sincerely thought that if he tried to hit the beast with a log, it would just crumble in his hands without so much as hurting it. If only… and Sys’ eyes caught on something. The metal rod used to stoke the fire. It was sitting neatly besides the fire, waiting to be picked up and used.
With a wary glance towards the beast, Sys began inching himself closer to the fire. He glanced back at the creature, watching as it took some of the glass in Sys’ satchel and looked at it curiously. Sys turned to the fire, close enough now to reach out, fingers stretching to reach for the rod. He gritted gingerly at the stretch in his ribs, muscles clearly unhappy with the torment they faced but Sys chose to ignore it in favour of grabbing the rod. He winced when the metal scraped against the ground a little, freezing instantly. He remained still for a moment, listening to the sounds at the table. When they carried on like there wasn’t a problem, he turned to catch the sight of the creature picking at the flowers Sys had put on the surface of the table. Sys turned back to the fire, lifting with greater care and making sure the rod fit comfortably in his hand without making a sound.
He rolled onto his side, pushing himself up soundlessly with another wary glance at the creature before putting the rod over the fire. The flames licked at the metal, Sys holding the rod there as he kept his eyes firmly on the creature. The beast showed no inclination of turning around but Sys would take no chances, lips set into a firm line as he waited for a minute, ensuring there was a good amount of heat packed onto the metal. Only when the metal rod was flaming red did Sys take it out.
Now armed, Sys used his free hand to help push himself onto his feet. His body was a little sore but he’d had worse days. He stood still for a moment, metal rod poised in front of him as he considered what he was about to do. It seemed a little insane and frankly barbaric but all adventures came with their tales and Sys swore that this would be an adventure that he’d live to tell the tale of.
You’re not going to die, Sys, he told himself firmly. With that, his grip around the metal tightened, knuckles turning white as he began moving forward. His eyes flickered to the hole in the wall next to the bench where the creature was standing and he could picture it in his head— if his plan worked perfectly he’d maim the beast and then escape through the gap. It was a rough plan, so minimalistic that Sys doubted whether he could even call it a plan. Nevertheless, he found the back of the creature once more with his eyes, approaching closer by the minute.
He evened out his breaths, feeling a steady calm wash over him as he realised what he was about to do. This was it. He would sneak up to the thing and slay a beast—
“You would fight me little runt?” The booming voice startled Sys so severely he felt himself let out an audible gasp, bringing a free hand to slap over his mouth. Sys fell still, not moving another inch as he waited to see if the creature was simply talking to the air or if he had noticed Sys. Sys’ answer was given when the creature turned around, a slow movement that showed no sign of fear. “I had a feeling you were thinking of something new to try.”
It was the first time Sys stood face-to-face with the creature, his eyes widening as he felt himself pale at the sight. The creature a goblin. And not just any goblin:
“The Goblin of the North,” Sys breathed, shock written on his face as his hand dropped from his lips at his realisation.
Sys had never seen a goblin before— not many had. Fewer had lived to see one and tell the tale. But Sys had heard the legends: pointed ears, glowering eyes, tattoos along skin and wickedly sharp fangs. Sys’ confidence crumbled all at once as he saw the chest of swirling ink, full of oaths and promises. Even among those horrid tales, there were prominent stories of particularly wicked beasts, the Goblin of the North taking his place as one of the most notorious. A cruel demeanour, even crueler face, ruthless precision— a creature that even beasts fear.
From here, Sys could see the markings underneath the goblin’s eyes, small triangles of black on his gray skin. Unlike some goblins, this one had hair. It was cut short and cropped close to his scalp, a good combatant against the turbulent weather the mountains had to offer.
Perhaps the most misleading thing was how humanoid the creature’s face was— strong nose, set jaw, dark brows— it was a wicked thing that Sys could say in any other instance, a man like that would be able to sweep him off his feet. The cruel irony was that Sys feared just that— being literally swept off his feet as the beast clobbered him over the head once and finally put an end to him.
Sys held still as the goblin took a leisurely step forward, fingers pinching one of Sys’ lilac flowers between sharp nails. Sys watched the creature’s every move, watched as it— he, the Goblin of the North— seemed to frown as he sniffed the flora.
“I am surprised a human knows who I am,” the goblin responded mildly, voice rolling like he was irritated but there was no sign of it on his face. “You are human, yes?” Sys wasn’t sure what to say so he stood still, raising his metal rod a little higher to get the point across. The goblin seemed to stare at Sys expecting an answer but Sys didn’t have one to provide. “Where is your courage, runt? Has it escaped you once more?” This time the goblin seemed mildly amused. “Here’s an idea,” the goblin said, “why don’t you play dead again?”
There was something about the bite to the words that sounded like mocking and Sys had always considered himself a man of pride, which was perhaps the reason why he gritted out the next words: “I want my dagger back.”
The goblin seemed to not be amused by this, simply eyeing Sys as if the man was the most unremarkable thing he’d ever seen. “So this is a human,” the goblin seemed to grumble, mood soured. “A weak thing that trembles and shakes like the grass when afraid. How boring.”
Sys was shaking, it was true— his hands were sweaty and his brows were pulled firmly but he didn’t let up. “I want my dagger back and I want to leave.”
The goblin didn’t laugh, Sys wasn’t sure if he was capable of it but he did seem to delight in the luxury of saying: “You come into my cave and make demands? You would be lucky to leave with any of your bones intact.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” Sys said but the creature didn’t seem to be listening.
“So humans truly are nothing but selfish, conceited fools. See—“ the goblin began, taking a step closer making the man stumble back one step “—if I come into a stranger’s place, I know that the fate awaiting me is no one’s fault but my own. But you humans… you think as if you are the ones who the world wrongs. Let me tell you something, runt.” the goblin reached behind him, drawing his axe with his right hand in one, definite motion. Sys felt his throat dry. “The world does not know who you are. You are not important enough. No one is.”
Sys could hear there were words being said but his focus had fixed on the axe, the size nearly as big as him. The man knew that with one swipe he would be taken apart. The goblin was now taking step after step, moving towards Sys with an easy stride. The rhythm sent Sys backwards, the man nervously distancing himself. He tried to glance around to find an answer, something to get himself out of this— another grand escape from just another adventure. Except this didn’t feel like an adventure. This was the part that no one spoke about, the grizzly end of the heroes who travelled the world and were never heard from again. Sys had told his friends that he wouldn’t end up like them— he’d looked into their eyes and sworn that he wouldn’t become just another story.
But looking around, there was nothing that could help him.
Sys felt the familiar lump in his throat, his heart climbing its way up his chest as his breaths came harder and harder. There was nothing that could help him. He was alone. He would break his promise to those he cherished, he’d never see his beloved Shin and hold him again—
It was just him.
It was just him.
Sys’ eyes were widening. It was just him . “Wait!” Sys called out, arm still holding the rod out, walking backwards. Think, Sys. That’s what you’re best at. Sys thought about the tales he’d heard of goblins: Pormanthius (dead), Arganon (dead), Clementine (dead)— think about one who lived— Orthine. In the tale, Orthine acknowledged that among brute strength, goblins are perhaps one of the most curious creatures, unable to pass an interesting offer. “Let me make you a deal.”
This seemed to tear a growl out of the goblin’s chest, deep and resonate— “What could you possibly give me?” When the goblin didn’t waver, Sys tried to steady his tone. He needed to be clever.
“The thing that you wish for most in the world.”
The goblin seemed to slow at that, Sys’ own steps faltering as he watched the creature take one more step before he stopped. It was clear that the adventurer’s deal had sparked some intrigue, the creature tilting his head at Sys ever so slightly.
“Is this your attempt to live again, runt?” The goblin asked with hostility but Sys could tell the creature was holding back a little, seemingly curious. “Alright,” the goblin said, “speak.”
Sys glanced around, quickly eyeing the space as he cleared his throat. “You have two cots, do you not?” Sys asked hesitantly.
The goblin gave no answer, just barked mockingly, “Oh look, it knows how to count.”
Sys bit back the snide remark he wished to make, instead plastering a careful smile, “Well, I have noticed that you come as only one. Perhaps there was another you used to travel with? A companion you once had?” This time the goblin didn’t answer, just stared evenly back at Sys. “I… I suppose the mountains are a fine place to live but they can get awfully lonely, can’t they? It must be hard to be here by yourself.”
The goblin didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at Sys for a moment. “Your offer,” the creature spat, “it’s your pity?”
“No,” Sys said quickly, trying to finish his thought before he angered the creature further. “No, it is an offer to fix that. It’s the offer of company.”
This time, there was truly a silence that Sys took for shock. If this was a true adventurer’s tale, the goblin would be so moved by Sys’ offer, that perhaps he’d even weep. Of course, this was no such tale, so instead the goblin let out an earthy grunt that Sys thought to be the equivalent of a goblin’s laugh.
“Oh,” the goblin said, putting a hand on his stomach, “oh this is truly something. Runt, you think that I’d want company? From the likes of you?”
“Well…” Sys tried to reason, feeling his pride insulted once more with the snarl from the goblin, “isn’t it better off than—“
“—better than what?” The goblin interjected with a venomous leisure. “Killing you where you stand? I like that offer much better.”
“Listen,” Sys said and this time he had no more complacency for the goblin’s awful attitude. “The North Mountains are scarce of any living thing for miles. I hardly think you’re going to get any other offers any time soon— especially not with an attitude as foul as yours.” The last part was said with a huff, Sys’ cheeks red with rage, having enough of the goblin trialling his patience. It seemed that the snap of anger was enough to set Sys off with a continuingly building rage. “However, seeing as you cannot be civil to a guest and do me the simple respect of holding polite conversation, perhaps death truly is a better deal.”
Sys finished with a defiant throw of his poker to the ground, the metal sparking slightly against the stone floor but he didn’t care. His gaze glowered, angrily eyeing the goblin. Finally, he raised his arms in a surrender, sleeves dirtied but billowing out around his arms as he stood anticipating the goblin’s final kill move.
The goblin seemed to eye Sys for a moment, as if something had caught his curiosity once more but this time Sys couldn’t be bothered to find out what. Sys was tired and hungry and missing home so he just stood in place with a furious expression.
“Now this is strange,” the goblin noted, staring at Sys in confusion. “Before you were willing to do anything to live and now you wish to die?”
“Consider it your effect,” Sys responded with an even tone, arms still held out. “Are you going to kill me or not?”
“If I say no will you change your mind once more?” The goblin asked.
“If you say no then both of us would have changed our minds,” Sys argued easily. “It would make both of us hypocrites but at least I’d think of you to have some redeeming qualities.”
“I do not care for what you think of me,” the goblin bit back easily, made a show of snarling so that the sharp set of top teeth would be revealed to Sys.
Sys didn’t flinch, held his ground firmly as he eyed the goblin. Perhaps, Sys thought. He would try once more and once more alone. “You think that now— but just as I made you question whether to kill me, I can make you question your care for me too.” The words coated themselves in enough daring that they sat in front of Sys as a challenge to the other, a feat that sounded so impossible that it made the goblin tilt his head once more with curiosity to see whether Sys really could do such a thing.
“Little runt,” the goblin muttered, “like a mouse I see you scurrying for your escape, trying to get through your little hole in the wall back to safety. Is this another attempt at such a thing?”
“Perhaps,” Sys said evenly, keeping his head high as he held the goblin’s gaze. “Perhaps it’s just a means to live— but are you not the least bit curious? ”
“What is it that you’re suggesting?” The goblin swung his axe in one sweeping motion, pointing the flat top at Sys. Sys felt his breath catch in his throat as he stared the weapon down.
“I am offering my deal,” Sys started, “a challenge ,” he corrected quickly, watching the goblin’s poorly concealed emotions clearly on his face. “I can change your mind about me given time.”
The goblin seemed to stand there for a moment. If there was a clock in the cave, Sys would hear it tick, filling the space of silence where Sys felt himself hold still but there was no clock. Instead, they stood in silence— the goblin’s axe still raised in Sys’ direction, blade end towards the human.
“What is your name, runt?” The goblin asked lowly, voice stern and unrelenting.
Sys didn’t say anything for a moment, glancing at the axe for a beat before looking back up at the goblin, deciding to hold the creature’s gaze with firmness. “Ulysses,” Sys said.
“Ulysses,” the goblin repeated, “you are most strange.” Sys seemed to hold himself still, watching as the goblin looked over the human once more before slowly, slowly dropping his axe back down, Sys feeling a weight slowly release from his chest. “Alright runt, I will give you seven days and seven nights. If you can change my mind as you claim to be able to do, I will deem you fit to stay as my companion. If not… I will place your head on my mantle.”
Sys heard the words and wasn’t sure how to answer, not really knowing if this was a deal he wanted to be part of. But it was his offer, it was his chance to live and it was the gentlemen in him that led to him nodding once. “I accept your offer.”
“It is not an offer,” the goblin barked back, “it is the only thing that is keeping you alive.”
There was an anger rising up in Sys’ throat, something about being feeling like there was already a rope tying around his neck and he was just being dragged along by this beast.
You want to live. Sys reminded himself that he wanted to live— for the people he loved. He made no move to acknowledge what the goblin had said, standing where he was with effort to keep his expression neutral. The goblin grunted, then turned away, seemingly decided on the deal he’d made.
Sys watched the back of the creature, unable to keep his emotion from trickling back into his eyes, narrowing as he felt a particular menace burn up within him as he watched the beast walk away.
I want to live, Sys thought, so by the end of the seventh night, the beast must be dead.