Astel sat on a small rock in a dim cave he had found just before the sun went down.
He bit down on a chunk of freezing meat with hungry haste. A shiver ran through his whole body; his teeth almost shattered. It felt like biting a frost-covered rock. His stomach growled as he angrily threw the rough-cut steak against the tough stone. The frozen edges shattered—tiny bloody shards scattering in all directions—leaving only a small piece of quickly freezing meat on the ground.
"Fuck this fucking cold!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the dark cave.
Defeated, he stared at the piece of meat in silence for a few long moments, the smell of blood filling his surroundings.
'I need fire.'
A frown slowly formed on his face. He had traveled for about half a day until the dead of night and hadn't seen a single tree, much less anything that could burn.
Frustrated, he stood up and walked toward the dead body of a pig he had killed just outside the cave.
The wind was calm, and the view was beautiful as usual. Catching his eye, he stared at the sky for a moment. He almost didn't want to go back into the cave—just wanting to take it in a little longer. With a shake of his head, he shifted his attention toward the dead body.
Lit by the bright glow of the twin moons, the corpse lay on a bed of rocks in a small patch with little to no snow. The terrain showed the aftermath of what seemed like a tough battle.
He took calm, measured steps, trying not to fall, and crouched beside the dead creature, running his fingers through its soft fur. His fingers reached a small hole—the piece of meat he had carved out earlier in hopes of satiating his hunger. His fingers continued tracing the fur.
'Clothes burn, right?'
He shrugged, willing to give it a try later.
White sparks wrapped around his hand, swiftly forming into an oddly shaped spear. Immediately the weapon shortened to the length of a sword, its handle compacting as Astel wished.
With a set of smooth movements, he skinned the monster. His arms shook as he sliced through the tough hide. Sweat poured down his youthful face as he finished the last cut.
As if by magic, the spear suddenly expanded into its full length. Small sparks flew in the opposite direction, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
He stabbed the spear deep into the monster's body and picked up the large piece of hide, dragging it behind him to the cave.
Lately his energy reserves had been feeling quite low. Even after a full day of gathering and circulating, he still felt he had less than usual.
He dropped the chunk of hide on the ebony stones and stepped back out onto the open terrain, casually glancing at his surroundings as he walked toward the body. White smoke covered his sight whenever he breathed—before he realized he was already standing before the skinned corpse.
The tall spear towered over him. He placed his hands on the long shaft and tugged. The weapon barely moved.
He tugged again, slightly annoyed. Nothing.
His blood boiled as he yanked the spear out with all his strength. His muscles screamed in protest. The spear loosened and he fell on his back, the weapon landing beside him.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep, long breath, trying his best to calm down. His chest rose and fell rhythmically.
Opening his eyes, he stared longingly at the colorful dark sky, a feeling of emptiness welling up inside him. His mouth moved by itself; a few words escaped under his breath.
"I want to go home."
Tears formed in his eyes as he started uncontrollably crying. He brought his hand to his eyes and wiped the tears and snot away before they could freeze.
He shifted his gaze to the pile of icy meat as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Feeling his stomach grumbling again, he got up while picking up his spear. The wooden hilt, covered by silvery metal, was freezing to the touch—even through his already cold, snow-covered hands.
He roughly cut a few large chunks of meat along with some yellow-tinted fat.
'This much should be enough…'
He decided to leave the corpse outside the cave since he wouldn't be able to carry it. Plus, it would smell horrible and probably attract other monsters.
Carrying his loot, he stepped toward the cave, the wind howling behind him, his spear tucked under his armpit.
He sat on the small rock, a piece of frozen meat held tightly in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, admiring its deep red color, then set it down near the rest of the meat.
He picked up the spear that had been leaning against him and stood up. With a swift motion he struck it against the ground, sending sparks flying and lighting up the small cave. The sparks flew toward a small mound of yellowish fat, sometimes producing a faint sizzle.
He swung again and again; more sparks flew, making the cave flash with dim bursts of light. Each time the steel blade slammed into the rough, dark stones it produced a loud clanging sound. Sometimes he dragged the blade by mistake, creating a deafening screech that echoed through the cave.
Sweat poured down his body. The wind outside intensified. The clanging continued. More sparks lit his surroundings.
Then the smell of something burning hit his nose.
His hands shook, his muscles were already tired—but he wouldn't stop until he saw fire.
With a final push he expanded all his gathered energy, spreading it through his body to keep himself going.
Still, nothing happened.
With one more swing he struck a damaged stone. The spear stopped abruptly against something, sending a wave of pain through his already exhausted body. He was forced to let go of the weapon, which hit the ground with a dull thud.
He stood there, lungs on fire, blood boiling. He tried kicking the spear with everything he had, but whether from the darkness or his state, he missed. His body twisted awkwardly, struggling not to fall.
Frustrated, he attempted to turn back around and kick the spear again—but something caught his eye.
Just as he was turning, he noticed something outside the cave: a small silhouette that, for a split second, seemed recognizable.
Slowly, his head shifted toward the mouth of the cave.
The entrance was rough and jagged, rocks sticking out in all directions—but there was something else. One small shadow stared directly at him, two tiny shiny balls reflecting the moonlight. Behind it, something moved—like a tail swinging, the creature eyeing its prey.
Astel grinned and slowly bent down, his fingers wrapping around the spear's hilt.
'You're going to regret showing your face before me, asshole.'
With a single thought, he lunged toward the spectator.
Clearly shocked, the creature jumped and with a swift motion disappeared behind the rocks.
Astel ignored the increasingly loud voices in his head as he darted across loose stones with great precision, adrenaline flooding his body. The wind howled, carrying snow through the air and reducing visibility to just a few meters.
The creature was close.
Astel sprinted, following the smooth trail the familiar monster left behind. He approached a cliff where the trail abruptly ended. Without hesitating, he channeled as much energy as he could muster into the weapon while leaping up to grab a small ledge.
In his other hand, the spear shortened—though not fully.
With an audible tsk, Astel stabbed the blade into the cliff and began climbing.
Reaching the top, he saw the trail split in two different directions.
'Smartass.'
He ran to the right, further from the cave.
Then, in the distance, something moved.
The lizard.
He saw its tail swinging from side to side as it ran.
He was faster.
Soon he could see the lizard's whole body—its deep ashy-green skin, its plump shape, now slightly larger than before.
Astel pushed harder, running just a bit faster. His heart was ready to burst from his chest, his lungs nearing collapse. His breaths were short and empty, but with each step the monster grew closer.
The weather began to clear as the sun slowly rose above the horizon, its rays painting the tall mountain sky with rose gold. The wind calmed, allowing Astel to run a little better.
He was just behind the monster—just one more step.
The creature suddenly made a sharp turn. Astel slipped, crashed into the ground, rolled, and sprang back to his feet, still running.
Not even a few steps later, his heart exploded with a surge of stinging pain, dropping him to his knees.
"No!" he screamed. "I'm not letting you get away again!"
With a final painful shout, he arched his arm and hurled the spear.
The sharp blade whistled through the air, quickly catching up to the lizard-like monster.
Astel clutched his chest, his head spinning.
It was quiet.
The rising sun shone down on the back of his head, illuminating the cold white terrain of the mountains. The rays touched everything they saw, soon reaching a small green reptilian monster—Astel's shortened spear sticking out of its side, dirty red blood seeping into the soft snow.
As the sun climbed the sky, it chased away the shadows of night, dimming the radiance of the twin moons.
Its early light spilled over the jagged mountains, revealing shapes the darkness had hidden.
Far beyond the peaks, the morning glow brushed against something faint.
A small glimmer.
A line far too straight to be natural.
Structures half-swallowed by the mist.
Astel didn't see it.
His eyes were fixed on the dying monster, his breaths shaky, his heart pounding against his ribs.
The light continued to rise, illuminating the cold white world…
and the silent, manmade silhouette waiting on the horizon.