The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

Zerin clawed at the icy power while he sank deeper, the snow continued slipping through his fingers. Pulled deeper into the flurries of snow, each heap engulfed him as he gasped for air. And, just as the last breath of air was drawn from his lungs, he jolted awake with a series of heaving breaths.

His eyes widened as his chest heaved. Suddenly blinded by the brightness of the sun, he squinted. Then the sun was obscured by a massive shadow that swallowed it. For a moment, fear tightened in his chest, yet that dread began to unravel once he gazed into two glowing blue sockets. In that instant, he knew he was staring right into the eyes of the Howler.

He stared at the Howler, confused. He turned his head, looking around to see he was being carried in the creature's arms.

"Put me down." He exhaled with a shudder.

The creature obeyed, allowing him to stand on his own two feet. How disorienting it felt—just a moment ago, he had been locked in combat for his life, against a god. No, that couldn't be real; gods were far more powerful, beyond human comprehension. Yet, the notion of it being a dream within the dream realm struck him as absurd as well. It was better just to say he didn't understand anything.

Then a thought flickered in his mind.

It was that bewitching tree!

He could still feel the vestiges of that unnatural pull he had felt toward it. But he also remembered that he had drawn the Veinborne into his soul sea as well, so why was it carrying him?

Turning toward the creature, his boots shifted in the snow. Oblivious to Zerin's introspection, the creature stood calmly. Its snout was tilted up as its blood-ice claws raked at its pristine white fur on its neck.

"Hey," The Veinborne paused in response to Zerin's words. "I didn't order you to carry me!"

Tilting its head in a gesture of confusion, the creature reminded Zerin that this creature couldn't communicate nor understand the true meaning of words. It was strange. While the Howler seemed to understand every command given to it, anything beyond that—questions or statements—left this being utterly dumbfounded.

The Howler acted on its own, and he wasn't certain if he should even trust this creature. But then, he remembered: this creature not born of his own power, but of the power of the Beast god. Trusting it, even if it led him to safety, was out of the question. He could only rely on himself and his own choices. 

"From now on do not act unless I tell you." He pointed at the creature, but once again, it simply tilted its head in response.

Who was he kidding... He was speaking to a damn mutt.

He sighed, his hand slumping to his side. The sun was setting, though he probably only had a few minutes or so before nightfall. He took a knee and searched through his pack. To his relief, his treacherous pack stood true: during the day, his supplies returned to him. He took a few sticks of dry wood and some tinder, securing them just outside of the pack before it was nightfall.

Returning to his feet, he slung his pack over his shoulder. They were on their journey once again.

***

Standing on the edge of a cliff, Zerin pulled out his map, unfolding the white parchment. Currently, he stood overlooking a frozen lake that seemed to once be level with the cliff he was on, but a shift in the region must have caused the cliff to rise from the land beneath it. On the map, he was placed in the upper right corner, right near the gateway that was nestled under the fractured peaks. He could easily just go to the gate and leave, perhaps Dex had already escaped, knowing his luck, but he couldn't take that chance...

He folded the parchment back up and cast his gaze skyward. He had noticed it earlier, as he trudged through the forest—the path the Veinborne was led by, the path that led them out of the forest. In the sky, there was a purple streak, proceeding from him, out past the lake, into an unmarked territory on the map.

He tilted his head over the cliff, spotting a rocky slope angled steeply and covered in a thick blanket of snow. He leapt down the short distance, landing safely in the knee-deep snow that on the slope that was just ten feet below.

"It's safe." He spoke up to the Veinborne that peered down at him.

The Howler obeyed, jumping down and landing harshly on the slanted slope with its weight. Immediately, the snow began to rush down, following the slope's path. The miniature avalanche took Zerin with it, but the Howler reached forward and grasped him by the collar of his jacket with its blood-ice claws, holding him as the snow rushed down the path.

After the snow finished its descent, he was placed gently back down on the rocky slope.

"Thanks..." Zerin fixed his coat.

Zerin slowly shifted his gaze away from the creature, turning back to the slope. 

If what he had said earlier was true, then why would the Howler save him? Perhaps he had been wrong—it wouldn't be the first time. But even then, he couldn't make a judgment without knowing the full picture. This applied to all things. 

Leaving the ramblings of his mind aside, they descended down the rocky slope, approaching a frozen plane of ice. The lake's surface reflected the cool rays of the moon. Zerin stepped forth, guided by the starry sign in the sky.

Zerin stepped onto the ice, almost slipping, but he stabilized himself. He stood still, extending his arms out to maintain his balance. There was no way in hell he was going to cross this slick frozen lake's surface, but seeing the Howler step onto the ice with efficiency gave him an idea. He ordered the Veinborne over, and as it came to his aid, he climbed up onto its shoulders. Then it began to move. Although he looked ridiculous, it was time-efficient. Several minutes later, with long strides from the Howler, they managed to cross the lake.

He hopped off the creature's shoulders, sinking into the snow. Hearing a brittle crunch beneath his heel, he lifted his foot and saw a small animal skull, its brittle jaws crushed under foot. But this brief interruption was only for a moment as he quickly followed the starry streak, and from the distance, he could see exactly where it landed.

He drew nearer to the starry streak's end. Arriving at where its path landed, as he got closer, he could see the purplish sands leaking down from the sky, cascading into a massive circular chasm below. It was as if it had been pristinely drilled by a mechanical tool, but common knowledge of the Dream world reminded him that it was impossible, as electric machinery couldn't function in the Dream world.

Down this perfectly circular chasm was a staircase that hugged its walls tightly, winding all the way down. But what drew his attention even more was a rather fascinating huge statue. Zerin was curious—who was building all these structures in the Dream world, especially structures of this size?

The Veinborne joined his side and looked down as well. Audibly, a faint rumble proceeded from its chest as it looked down at the statue below, as if it was cautious of it.

"You can stay up here... But me, I am going down."

Zerin said as he began walking down the stairs, carefully hugging the side of the wall as there was no railing. And although the stairs weren't icy, he wasn't going to test his luck.

The Veinborne stayed behind and sneered, baring its fangs, before following Zerin down the stairs.