Lost in the Wilderness

Hei An clutched the fur of the tiger as they ran through dense trees, leaving behind the flames-ravaged ruin of his village. The roar of destruction screamed within his head, deadening the sounds of the forest around him. Every time he blinked, Ling'er's face appeared before him, her eyes wide with terror, frozen in the last instant when life was being snuffed out. His father, bloodied; his friends, Master Zhao—all lost in that infernal ravage of the world he'd ever known. His heart was breaking with a sorrow that was too big to contain.

The tiger ran on tireless legs, muscles ripples through the striped coat as it bore Hei An ever further from the devastation. Then, without any warning, Hei An's world jolted to life. His grip was lost, and he tumbled off the back of the tiger, hitting the ground hard. Dazed, he looked up to see the tiger stumbling, its legs giving way as it collapsed with a low, agonized growl.

Dumbfounded, Hei An struggled to his feet, gasping for air as he ran to the tiger. His stomach churned in his gut as he caught sight of the deep gash slashed across its belly, crimson blood staining its fur and pooling on the forest floor. Hei An's hand shot to his mouth and he looked wide-eyed with horror.

"You… you are hurt?" His voice rattled; he fell on one knee beside the tiger. It had carried him so far, all this distance, while it was wounded, while it must be in agony. Hei An felt a twinge of regret: it had risked everything to get him to safety.

Once strong eyes, now more dull and soft, the tiger looked up at him. Now it was Hei An's turn to be choked out by a full throat. "Are you...leaving me too?"

The tiger emitted a low, sorrowful growl, its eyes fixed on Hei An as if to comfort him one last time. Deep and old lay something in the eyes of the animal, something that was wordless, silent yet conveyable between them. And then, shuddering in its breath, the tiger's eyes closed, and the great body became still.

Hei An sat in silence, his hand resting on the form of the tiger, lifeless now, his heart bowed under the unbearable weight of a loss he'd not soon forget. Hours passed as he sat there, the world around him cold, emptier than at any other time.

And when, finally, the sun began to set, he slowly got up to his feet, feeling numb and hollow. He looked about him into the dense forest all around, at great trees towering above him like silent sentinels. The place was vast and unknown and unforgiving, and there was only a boy-lost and hungry and exhausted, with nothing more to hold on to.

Hei An walked through the forest, pushed on by instincts rather than will, days blurring together as he hunted for food, drinking from streams and picking berries as available. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and weakness knifed through his frame from lack of sleep. Every night, memories of his home tormented him, rife in his dreams and leaving him bare with tears.

One evening, as he went wandering lost in the underbrush, he caught a faint rasping sound. He stopped and looked around, and there, entangled in the roots of a tree, he saw a small, black bird struggling feebly. It was a raven—jet black, a sheen that shone faintly even in dim light. But unlike other ravens, this one had a strange aura around it, an almost otherworldly presence.

Hei An knelt beside the bird, noted torn wing and dull eyes. 'A fledgling most probably' Hei An guessed.

He knew what it was- Shadow Raven. He had heard stories of them from the elders of his village. These birds, their feathers a dark and glossy sheen and eyes sharp, were marked to travel flocks. Though feeble to themselves, they formed a strong power as the group went synchronizing together, their sheer number a nightmare to anything in their path. The existence of one sent waves that there would probably be dozens more in any general direction.

This single raven was left injured and helpless. Its beady eyes stare into Hei An's was the same lost and pained stare he had seen looking back at him from the surface of the streams.

Hei An sighed, feeling some kinship with the bird. "Guess we're both on our own, huh?" he whispered, extending a trembling hand to scoop up the small creature. Its feathers were soft but chilly and it jerked away from his touch. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

Gently, he examined the raven's wing. The wound was raw and still bleeding, a nasty tear that would need time to heal. He slowly tore up a piece of cloth from his sleeve, doing his best to treat the wound with a makeshift bandage. As he moved, he scrapped his hand on the bird, and some of his blood mingling with that of the raven.

A strange warmth ran through his veins, a brief throb that felt like a spark taking fire within him. He stared down at it in the darkness-where his blood touched the raven's feathers-a faint glow-and it was gone again, just as suddenly as it had come, leaving but a sense of quiet calm in its wake.

Unbeknownst to Hei An, he had just formed his first Beastblood Bond. It was an ancient power of his clan-a link that bound human and beast energies. Of course, Hei An had no idea about any of that. All he knew was that for the first time since his village was destroyed, he no longer felt absolutely alone in his world.

The young shadow raven croaked weakly, gratefully, settling into his palm as if it, too, found peace in his presence. A small tug on Hei An's lips formed a smile. "Alright then," he whispered to it, stroking its feathers gently. "Guess we're stuck with each other."

The night wore on as Hei An sat with the raven: a quiet companion to a tired soul. He knew not what was ahead, nor did he know that a mallet of sorrow pounded the world solely upon his doorstep. Still, that small wounded bird gave him something he thought he lost forever-a sliver of comfort, a faint glow of hope.

Above him the stars trembled in the dark sky, but Hei An settled back beside the raven, his fingers absently brushing the pendant his father had given him. It was cool against his skin, a steady weight reminding him of what his father said last, of how fierce with insistence he'd forced the pendant around Hei An's neck.

For the first time since he had fled from the village, he had an odd sense of ease. Perhaps it was the subtle quietness of the raven or maybe the far-off impression of his father's protection lurking within the pendant. Hei An closed his eyes and finally let himself succumb to exhaustion.

But as he slept, a faint glow began to seep from the pendant, and the soft, ghostly light fell over Hei An and the floor of the forest. Without his knowledge, he sank deeper into sleep, the pulsing light pulling at him like it had finally unlocked some hidden power.

A strange feeling attacked him, tugging at the edges of his mind. His body felt weightless in an endless unknown space, and the world around him faded.

Hei An opened his eyes to find himself standing somewhere that was neither the forest nor any place he recognized. Mist swirled around his feet, cloaking the ground in shifting shadows. Strange, faint whispers hung through the air, and an inexplicable feeling of old power hung heavy.

Just as he had tried to grasp what was happening, the dream pulled him in further, drawing him into the depths of this otherworldly realm…