Chapter 3

 Years of living in the valley gave Sel a unique advantage in situations like this. He was fluid in his movements, light on his feet, curving his body in just the right ways to move around the men and women between him and his destination. Safety. That was all that was happening in his mind. He needed safety, and this well-to-do man at the terminal was not safe. So, he ran for his life. He was hungry. He was suffering from withdrawals. His anxious flight was fueled by nothing more than adrenaline. He could not fight the urge to dive back into the hedonism and self-destruction of The Chill, so he chose flight. "I have to get away from this man," he screamed at himself. Despite the energy going into this dash from danger, a small part of Sel was saying, "You will go back to him. You always go back to The Chill. You'll never be free." It was such a small voice that Sel was not aware of it, but it was there, and it had its claws dug deeply into the hard ground of Sel's subconscious.

 Sel was a coiled spring, compressing and dashing through the thinning crowds who were trying to get home on time. He was silent as he ran, so many of the pedestrians did not see him coming and were caught completely off-guard as this filthy man glided past them. Sel was a dancer, landing every step exactly where it needed to be. By the time anyone could think to be outraged at such an invasion of personal space, Sel was already dozens of meters away. He ran down unfamiliar streets. He ran past unfamiliar stores. Sel had not been able to find the location of Adem's machine shop, but it wouldn't have mattered. He wasn't thinking clearly enough to go anywhere in particular. He would figure that out later. The crowds thinned even more as Sel got farther from the gondola station and as the curfew approached. The panic that had seized Sel began to subside, and he ventured a glance over his shoulder. He saw men and women staring after him, some slack jawed and incredulous, some beginning to show outrage at his impudent invasion of their personal space. In his short glance, he did not notice any pursuers. He kept running anyway. Out in the valley, he could go for many kilometers and do a full day's work with ease. He was not in the valley. He had not had the nutrition or the discipline to keep his body in shape, and the air was much thinner in the cities. Sometime later, was it minutes? An hour? Sel didn't know. He stopped running due to pure exhaustion. He leaned against a wall, panting. He slid to the ground and lay in a heap. He gasped for air. His legs ached. His feet were blistered and bloody. Coherent thought returned to him, and he began to realize just how foolish he had been. The city was completely still. Pretick City was much more well-kept than Capital City, so Sel couldn't even hear the rustling of trash being blown around the streets. He was alone. Everyone had gone home, eager to be out of the streets before the curfew. As his breathing slowed, Sel noticed a sign with scrolling red text on the façade of the building in front of him. "CURFEW IN EFFECT. RETURN HOME, OR GO TO THE NEAREST ROYAL GUARD OUTPOST." This was bad. In Capital City, Sel knew the safe spots. With time, he would learn where those were in Pretick City, but he was brand new here. A heavy dread came over him as he realized the gravity of his situation.

 He hobbled to his feet and stretched. He would feel this flight for at least a week. His feet were already on fire. He began walking, too tired to do it quietly. The sound of his ungraceful shuffling echoed off the pristine walls and streets. There was no other sound. There was also no sign of pursuit, whether by the well-kept man's people or by the PCRG. Small blessings, and it provided little comfort to Sel in the moment. He felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand. Generations of hunter's instinct in the valley were warning him that he was in danger. He looked around the street he had been shuffling down. He looked above him. There was no one there, but dread was building up inside of him. Kretch's voice in his head was even more pronounced in the silence of these clean streets. "There is nothing but death in those cities for us. A nameless mist who only knows malice wanders the corridors of those deserted buildings. We do not go there. We have a better chance against the beasts in the valley." Sel remembered those beasts and their bloody efficiency. He remembered his dismay at Kretch's words. Nothing could be worse than the constant fear and the painstaking vigilance required by every member of a tribe to survive in a valley full of plants and beasts who could kill men with ease. Except, those things were not in front of him. They were not watching him with some unseen eye like something was doing right now. At least visibly, Sel knew the mist wasn't there either, but something told him that he was not alone, and he was powerless against this presence. All he could do was continue to walk as he felt its eyes upon him.

 Nothing happened. Sel kept moving, and the eyes stayed on him. The adrenaline had begun to wane, although the fear persisted. His pace slowed until he could go no farther. He was so tired. He was so hungry. He was so thirsty. He was completely spent. He lay in a heap, huddled against a wall. He absently thought of finding an alley to hide in. In Capital City, sleeping out in the open like this was nothing short of a guarantee that you'd wake up in some seedy abandoned building in a bathtub full of ice, missing an organ or two. The thought was short lived. In only a few seconds, all had faded to black.

 He woke up to guttural cries of pain. Some beast was loose in the city, and some bigger beast was killing it. Sel bolted upright on the ground and was immediately greeted by waves of pain that nearly knocked him back out. His whole body was so tight, and he clenched his teeth through the spasms in his lower back and legs. If he had any food in his stomach, he would have soon been laying in it as his body contorted on the ground in pain. Instead, a tiny amount of stomach acid came up and soaked his already filthy collar. The cries continued, echoing off the pristine building façades and streets. After agonizing minutes, his muscles relaxed, and he was able to look around. His street was empty, but he knew the carnage was no more than two streets over. He could hear grunts and meaty thuds and bestial cries coming closer. Whatever was fighting would cross the intersection closest to him soon—maybe. As he listened more closely, it did not sound like the creatures were moving in a straight line. A building in front of him shook as something was thrown into it, the impact sending rumbles down the next few blocks. Suddenly, an ear piercing cry went up all around Sel. He covered his ears, and his shoulders and arms ached with the quick movement.

 From the direction of the fight, Sel saw something fly up into the air. The thing lurched into the sky above the buildings, clearly injured. Its flight was short lived. Sel saw a chain fly up from the ground and wrap around one of the beast's wings. As whoever was holding the chain drug the animal back toward the ground, its other wing flailed wildly in a desperate attempt to break free. Sweat shone all over the creature's body as its rippling muscles tensed in a final effort to maintain its hold on life. Sel was frozen in fear, but he also felt a very small buzzing of curiosity. He had never seen this beast's like. It was beyond anything he had seen or heard of in the valley. It was faintly humanoid in form with animal like legs and broad wings like those of a bat. Its arms, chest, and face were like those of a man. As it was being drug down, its eyes fell upon Sel. Sel's blood froze. The beast changed its direction of effort and lunged toward Sel. The sudden slackness in the chain and brief flight in his direction removed all hope in Sel. He was going to die. He would always come back to that moment in his mind for the rest of his life when he heard the sound of chain links clanking against one another. Terror was Sel's singular experience as this monster darted toward him in hunger and rage. The whole episode had only taken seconds, and Sel was so tired and mentally compromised that he hadn't even moved from his spot on the ground. He was frozen by fear and the agony coursing through his body, but the pain was a mosquito's buzz in the back of his mind as death approached him from the sky. He thought of Elo for an instant. After his failure with her, he deserved this. A part of him relaxed at the thought of receiving this justice. The chain snapped taught again, and the beast was drug across the top of a building and back down to the street below. Sel could no longer see it, but he could hear its desperate cries of fear. Sel heard a quick sound of metal scraping metal, a meaty thud, and a faint gurgle. Then, silence. As the throbbing in Sel's head and chest subsided, he realized that he was still in danger. Whatever had killed the beast was close. It probably could not fly, but it could walk around a few buildings and be upon Sel in less than a minute. It took mere seconds for Sel to think through all this, but he had to struggle to do anything in response. Try as he might, his muscles were not responding obediently to his brain's commands. He braced on the building next to him and hobbled to his feet. Rather than attempt a mad dash away, he decided to move slowly and quietly. He had no more speed left in him. He would not have any for weeks with his body in its current state. He controlled his breathing, getting his heartrate under control. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, centering himself. When he opened them, he began moving, slowly and silently. He was a light breeze over the cobblestones of the street. He was lithe as a cat as he slowly made his way away from the carnage a few blocks over. He was aware of every sound for dozens of meters around him. He was silent as death which struck him as ironic in this situation where silence was his only chance at life. His centeredness also gave him the luxury of hearing what the unnamed terror a few streets over was up to. From what Sel could hear, it was unwrapping its chain from the other beast.

 In this more centered state, Sel could think more clearly. Whatever was a few streets over had tools. He saw the chain minutes before. He was hearing it now. Surely a hallucination would not be this prolonged. There was also the metallic scrape as the flying beast's struggle stopped. Whatever had killed the thing was using tools and weapons, not just claws and teeth. Was it some kind of machine, left behind by the mysterious builders of this once abandoned city? Was it some kind of sentient monster about which Sel had never heard? Was it a human? Certainly not. What human could lasso that flying creature with a chain and pull it out of the sky? This clarity of mind was doing nothing to comfort Sel. He had to get away. He had to do it quietly. He took another step and then another. His feet were on fire. He couldn't think about that. His knees were wobbling. He had to keep going. The clanking of the chain was getting fainter. He was getting away. He would live another night for whatever that was worth. As he put one foot in front of the other, the world around him began to fade. Pure survival instinct was driving him now. He was not aware of his surroundings anymore. "I miss you, Elo," he muttered to himself as he fell to the ground, unconscious.