Astel's raised hand fell back toward his body with a hollow thump. The pain sent shivers through his numb body as he let out an almost audible, "Ow…"
He blinked slowly as he thought about what came next. He was tired—too tired to even try to move. His thoughts slowed down with each passing second, yet he was awake. He tried pushing himself off the ground, but with his lack of strength he only caused himself more pain.
He bit down on his frozen lip in an attempt to wake himself up, but it didn't work. The sharp sting of the bite was drowned out by every other pain in his body. His frozen lips barely reacted until thick, warm blood trickled down to his chin.
'Shit… This isn't going to work.'
He was running out of ideas.
'Is this it?'
He paused.
'No.'
He flooded his entire body with energy, focusing the tiny stream into his limbs. For a moment, he felt something—his fingers twitched as a bit of strength returned. Acting quickly, he rolled to his side and, using every muscle he had left, pushed himself to his knees.
With great effort, he raised one leg, using it for support as he forced himself onto both feet. He swayed, nearly falling again, only barely managing to walk. Without looking back, he headed in the direction the monster had run.
However, he didn't get far.
After only a few steps, dragging himself through the thin snow, he fell back to the ground. His energy had run out.
He screamed in pain, "Fuck!" His throat produced only a low rumbling noise instead of the intended shout. The words died out before even he could hear them himself.
Lying face down in the snow again, tears formed in his eyes. The liquid quickly turned cold, stinging his already tired eyes.
Nearing death, he thought about the other him—probably still pinned on a crucifix of spears, his blood thin and dry, his voice gone from endless pleading, his tears empty. He thought about how many times the other him had almost died in just the few months they had been here. He thought about his seemingly endless tenacity.
'Maybe… maybe we aren't so different after all.'
Hesitating, he reached for a notion, summoning its presence into reality. He felt the unfamiliar energy coursing through his body, rising from his mind and enveloping him in a deep shadow.
Almost instantly, his freezing body vanished—leaving behind a slowly dissolving trail in the snow.
With his remaining energy, he chose a nearby space that felt like a cave. The shadows felt deeper there, like they were calling him.
As his body appeared in the dark environment, he felt the notion's presence within his mind diminish—almost disappearing entirely.
'One more… Better make it… count.'
He let out a deep breath, noting the air was a little less cold.
His head spun as his exhausted body gave out. He fell to one knee, trying to hold himself together, terrified that falling asleep meant death. But he couldn't stop it—he drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness until his knee finally gave out.
With a loud, echoing thump, his body hit the ground. The impact finally knocked him out.
A weak wind silently shrieked through the large cave. Distant splashing water echoed from time to time. Somewhere deeper inside, some sort of creature screeched, the sound penetrating every corner of the dark hideout.
Astel slowly stirred awake, his breath irregular as he took swift, short gasps.
Suddenly, his eyes shot open. Ignoring his fatigue, he pushed himself into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position, his heart beating loud enough to echo through the cave.
He nervously scanned his surroundings, but he couldn't see past the deep shadows. Taking several heavy breaths, he gradually calmed down—though the hair on the back of his neck still stood, his body on full alert.
'I'm alive.'
He felt relieved—happy, even.
He was still upset at having to use the mysterious shadowy notion, but at least now he could appreciate all the times the other him had used it. His—their—life was more important than some unknown power.
He once again channeled energy throughout his body, feeling his aching muscles. He knew he couldn't rest, so he decided to walk around—looking for something, anything.
Just after turning around the first corner, he already saw something: light.
He was standing straight across from the exit. A small rocky opening, barely large enough for anything bigger than him to slip through.
Taking careful, ragged steps, he approached the hole, swallowing nervously, not wanting to head back outside. Unfortunately for him, his body moved before his mind could protest.
He squeezed through the opening and once again stood before a wide, snowy plateau.
The scene before him was slightly different this time. He could actually see the edge of a cliff, tall mountains reaching into the air in the distance. The sky was beautifully clear, the stars ever-present. A weak greenish aurora streaked across the blue sky in a wavy pattern.
Scanning his surroundings, he noticed several groups of the same woolly pigs he had encountered before, along with some other creatures. They were too far away to distinguish clearly. He also saw what looked like the outline of a forest—tall, spruce-like trees swaying slightly in the breeze.
The wind lightly brushed against his body, which was covered in drenched, icy clothes. He looked down, grabbing a handful of the moist fabric, bringing it closer to his nose for a quick whiff.
The aroma was horrible—so much so that his head snapped away in disgust.
'Ew.'
He almost puked.
He wiped his hands on his black pants.
'I could use some new clothes.'
He looked toward the closest pack of pigs.
His stomach rumbled.
'And food.'
He licked his lips, making them sting from the cold even more.
Without hesitation, he began approaching the nearby herd. The snow crumbled under his feet, almost alerting the creatures. They nearly noticed him, forcing him to swiftly hide behind a nearby rock. He fell to his side, clutching his ribs.
'This might be a bit hard.'
He tried to summon his spear, but with so little energy left he only managed to create a handful of white sparks—not enough to materialize it.
'Shit.'
He needed a new strategy.
After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out the small metal whistle and brought it to his mouth. He blew as hard as he could, producing a loud, almost screeching sound.
The pigs scattered in panic, sprinting in every direction.
Luckily, one of them ran straight toward him.
He peeked over the rock, surprised.
'No way that actually worked.'
He shoved the whistle back into his pocket and prepared.
As the creature approached, he heard its steps grow louder—closer—until it sounded like it was right beside him. With one swift motion, he pushed himself off the ground, jumping and grabbing one of the pig's tusks as it ran.
Shocked, the pig thrashed violently, trying to shake him off, but he refused to let go. Using the momentum, Astel swung his body upward and over the pig, landing on its head. He guided what little energy he had into his arms and pulled as hard as he could, trying to break off the end of the tough bone.
The pig shook even harder. Without paying attention to its own footing, it stumbled, crashing into the ground and flinging Astel into the air.
He slammed into the snow with a loud thud. Before he could get up, the creature had already fled.
Clenching his fist, he shouted, "Damn it!" and punched the solid ground.
After calming down, he looked around, taking in the surroundings. He noticed he was near the edge of the cliff that had seemed so far earlier. After confirming the area was at least relatively safe, he stood up.
His legs screamed. His heartbeat thumped strangely slow.
He took slow, measured steps to the cliff's edge.
He looked down at the valley below—mountains flanking it on every side. It looked like a kind of oasis, surrounded by an endless labyrinth of towering stone.
In the distance, he spotted something: a small dark speck. No—multiple specks.
'People?'
They seemed to be gathered around the corpse of an animal.
A woolly pig…
Saliva gathered in his mouth.
One figure stood out—the light reflected off him in a familiar way.
Astel watched for a while, staring as the group dismembered the corpse, gathered the loot, and departed.
Slapping his hands against his face, he finally forced himself to turn away from the half-dismembered corpse in the valley below.
His stomach growled as he began walking away from the cliff, back onto the plateau.
There were still things he had to do.