Dan was frozen for a few more minutes until his petrified back and arms defrosted. He had never been this scared in his life. His whole body was tense. He knelt, lifted his pant leg, and felt his ankle. After assessing his minor injuries, he stared out at the ash pile. If that thing would have held me a bit longer it could have ripped off my foot. The remains were eerie but relaxing to him. It showed that even though these large beasts had many strengths, it had one ultimate weakness. One that he was going to be ready to exploit just in case he met another one.

On the other side of the pile, Mark was contemplating the ash, but couldn’t keep his feelings buried inside any longer. “What the hell is it?” He was pacing feverishly. “It lives in the dark, leaves a green plasma as droppings, and turns to ash in the sunlight … crap, what was it called?”

Dan remembered something spoken about creatures that turned into ash in the daylight, but just like Mark he couldn’t come up with a name. It was long ago in their third-grade class and Dan didn’t really remember much of what Ms. Kopperel was teaching. No one really paid attention to her. She would go off on many tangents about gardening herbs and spices in her spacious gardens. The only thing he could fully remember from that year is at what time of day to go sharpen his pencil. Ten, o’ five. He would walk over to the far wall, which was the furthest away from the door. It was the perfect spot, right by a narrow, rectangular window that overlooked the play yard. It was here that he often spotted Mary’s class out at recess. He was anxious to catch a glimpse of her spinning around in one of her flower printed dresses. The motion of her blond hair like a parasol, twirling in the sun. He had never mustered up the courage to ask her out after knowing each other for over ten years. She was a few grades ahead of him and to Dan, always out of reach.

“I got it!”

Dan was upset from being interrupted from his dream, but he knew he couldn’t tell Mark about his crush on his sister. It would make things … weird. He sighed and listened to his friend explain his find. “What?”

“These things are Flaretoms.”

Dan shrugged his shoulders, having heard the name, but not remembering where it came from. Mary’s hair spun across his eyes. “Flaretoms?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. It took me a second, but I realized that these things have all the components of a Flaretom. The brown, thick hides. The red eyes. The mammoth size and, of course, the disintegration into ash once its eyes are opened in daylight.” He beamed with delight in his diagnosis.

Dan was still confused but knew that in some way or another Mark was right. He often was right. One quality he equally loved and hated in his friend. “So we know what they are … any weaknesses, besides you know, the sun?”

Mark nodded. “Fire. They are terrified of it. Hence the name.”

Dan thought of his box of matches, grabbed for his bag and pulled them out. The box was a bit soggy, but redeemable after a three-hour air dry. He also pulled out some of the food containers. They were fine for the most part and just needed some drying themselves.

Mark shook his head. “That was a nice bag. I just got it a few weeks ago.”

Dan ignored him and continued to peruse through the wet and damaged pockets.

Mark kicked the dirt and looked around them. His voice was uncomfortably low. “Well… thanks Mark. I sincerely apologize that I took your new bag and it got broken. Not like I don’t have like twenty brand new ones at home.” His nerves were on edge when he finished his scan of the surroundings. Trees were all he could see. Just trees and rocks. No houses or anything. The sun was strong on his back and he welcomed the warmth it offered far better than the dark and dank innards of the Flaretom den. He looked to the trees to the east and smiled when he saw that they were widely spread out and the ground was mostly lit from the sun.

Dan had rearranged some items in his bag. “We can stay here for an hour or so, but I want to be as far away from where that thing came from as possible.” He placed the box of matches on top of his bag and made sure it was encased in full sunlight.

Mark nodded and sat on the angled boulder he wanted to hide behind only moments ago. He looked up at the sun and took a few deep breaths. His body was still trembling. Maybe that Flaretom was the last of its kind. No wonder Mom told me to never go out here.

After he finished replacing items in his bag so that they wouldn’t spill out of the fist sized holes in the lining, Dan walked around the perimeter of the clearing. It was awfully convenient to be able to find a gap between trees that seemed to be sprouting out of the ground like hair and coated the entire place in darkness. He wanted to ask why Mark just darted for it in the first place. He was always the leader. The one who came up with the plan. Mark mostly just sat and buried his head in a book. Dan never thought of his friend really when he made decisions. He just went with his gut and it seemed to work. He liked being the one that his brother or Mark would go to to resolve a problem. It just seemed natural for him to devise a solution. The trees on the western side were withered and bent with thick stems and branches, but the trees to the east had lush vegetation along their trunks and branches. Hmm … what did you always used to say Dad? “Wherever you see a healthy tree that always means there’s water.”

Dan reached the eastern border of the clearing. The trees were less clumped together and he was able to see for at least a hundred yards, but he only needed to see ten yards in. He excitedly advanced forward and stopped at the shore of a narrow river. It powerfully streamed down through the gaps in the trees, giving life to a collection of flowers and plants bordering its shores. The surface was moderately clear and he could see some vegetation growing at its base. He reached down, cupped his hands, plunging them under the cool surface and bringing them up to drink. He took a swig and wiped his hands on a clean section of shirt. It tasted clean and fresh and was very refreshing after surviving a flaretom attack. He squinted his eyes from a brilliant glare across the river. It could have been some residual distortion on his eyes as they tried to adjust to brightness of the clearing. Dan, ever curious, found a section of the river downstream that was easy to cross, then walked back up the shore. It took a good ten minutes, but he found it. He reached down and fell onto his knees. The metallic object was easy to recognize for Dan, but anyone else would have considered it a simple navigation tool. Compasses were quite common in Amphius and were mostly used by sailors in Scaleon Bay, but in the middle of a remote forest, finding a compass was equivalent to finding a talking rock. Dan rubbed away a compacted coat of dirt revealing a silver surface with three initials.

R – E – L.

Dad? Dan wiped his eyes with the inside of his elbow. He remembered the first time his father showed him the compass. It was an overcast day at the northeastern fringe of Rockliffe Marsh. Dan was with his dad on another one of their “runs” together. He faked sick that morning like he mostly did when his father would ask him to go to an open house or to close a sale. He hated the awkward car rides and his father’s sly comments to sway him toward real estate like bait on a fishing line. Dan quietly followed his father through the forest. The autumn wind was frigid on his face and he pulled a crimson hood over his chilled head. It was eleven in the morning and they had been traveling for a few hours. The weekend was sacred to Dan. It was his time to be free from school and responsibilities and hang out with friends. He typically had a small cohort of those who disliked their rich families and the one poor kid, Mark. It was convenient to have your friend be your neighbor in a secluded town near a forbidden forest. Dan looked forward to meeting by the jetty, but this day was not that kind of day. His father woke him up with orange juice from the signature Siltmoor engraved glasses that filled their kitchen cabinets and a proposition that if he went with him that he will stop by the store on the way home. Bribing tended to work on Dan, but most days he was forced to go with a stern, disappointed scowl from his mother. He still felt her eyes glaring at him all the way from home.

Mr. Longreed stopped at the edge of Rockliffe Marsh that met a wide-open field, stretching for miles to the north and west. The overcast sky left a gloomy gray across the landscape.

“Where are we?” Dan grunted.

Mr. Longreed chuckled and took out a silver compass from his pocket. His initials finely engraved into the metal. He unlatched it and popped open the cover. The magnetic dial swung around as he spun to the right toward his destination. He looked forward and smiled. “This way.”
Dan didn’t move. “Where are we going? … We’ve been walking for hours.”

His father sighed. “Just a little bit more then we’ll be there.”

“Be where?! We’ve been walking through the swamp for half the day and I’m freezing my ass off!”

“Hey, watch the language,” his father boomed, “You’ll need to watch your mouth around clients.”

Dan’s anger sparked when he heard that word, “clients”. He hated it with a passion as if his father just punched him in the face. His scales rose on end. “No! I’m not going to watch my crappy mouth around your stupid ‘clients’. I will say whatever the hell I want. I don’t give a flying – “

“Dan!” his father’s voice traveled across the expanse.

Dan felt it brewing within him pooling from his feet to his head. The anger and resentment that grew year after year. The “runs” together, the meetings with Mr. Rotmyre, the constant nagging from his mother. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to vent. His heart ticking faster and faster toward explosion. He stomped his foot on the ground and burst. “You and mom don’t give a crap about me or my friends. You just want me to become rich and pretty, but I’ll never be like that. I’ll never be a real estate agent.”

Mr. Longreed was stunned and took a moment to calm down. “Dan,” he sighed. “Your mother and I only want the best for you.”

“And what’s that?”

Mr. Longreed took another look at his compass. The magnetic arrow pointing northeast. “You know I felt the same as you when I was your age until your grandfather showed me this.” He held up the compass for Dan to see the gothic styled letters that made up the cardinal points. The N much larger than all the others. Dan noticed something on the inside of the top lid. An inscription that could only be read up close. He inched forward just to be able to read it.

May this help you always find your way home.

Dan took a step backward. Speechless.

“You see,” his father continued, “I was out on my own one day on a surveying assignment and I lost my way in the woods. I probably was in there for hours, going in circles.” He chuckled. “I had no clue where I was going until I remembered to take out this darn compass. It took me another hour to catch my bearings and then I was able to find my way back home. To you, Mom and Freddie. So even though I didn’t like my job at first, it got easier because I knew wherever my job took me … this would bring me back home.”

It was so odd to hear his father speak about anything other than boring real estate business, but it was nice. Dan sensed his hands and arms relax and his eyes well up, but he didn’t give in entirely. He needed to keep up his defenses or he was going to become like his father. A pushover that never got to reach his dreams.

Mr. Longreed knelt beside his son and gave Dan the compass. “Here why don’t you give it a try and find our way home.”

Everything around him had an uncomfortable chill. The compass felt cold in his trembling hands as the bubbling current reminded him that he was near a river. A river, according to the magnetic dial, that flowed from south to north. His emotions were the same as they were that day his father first showed him the compass. Mark appeared in the corner of his eye and he tucked the compass into his pocket.

“Everything alright?”

Dan nodded, cleared his throat and stood up. “I thought I saw something, but its just a rock.”

“Well let’s figure out where to go.” Mark pulled out the scroll from his bag and studied the riddle. It was too cryptic even for his literary mind to decipher. He knew what the war was, who Fierston was, and knew what caliginous meant, but he couldn’t seem to connect the dots. The only other lines that stood out were the warnings that if they didn’t try and find their parents they were going to be hurt or worse. He sighed in defeat. “Well I have no clue.”

Dan knew this was a time to step up. He took in his surroundings and looked at the river. An old Longreed saying crept up into his mind. All good things are found along a river’s current. The dirt was somewhat moist, willowy trees sprouted along its banks, and it weaved like a snake through the speckled lit forest floor. He studied it for a few moments. The river’s current soothing and guiding. It dawned on him. “We should follow the river.”

Mark scrutinized it and then his friend.

“The trees look like they haven’t gotten water in awhile which means there could have been a drought over here and since the forest is a bit thinner over here than in flaretom hell.” He pointed to where they entered the clearing. A smoky black looming behind a row of trees. “I assume that anywhere near the river is going to be safe from those things.”

Mark put the scroll back into his pack. He wanted to trust Dan, but he never heard his friend ever speak of trees or river currents with such prowess. He was impressed and hadn’t read much about geology or environmental science, but it all seemed to make sense. He nodded his head and threw his tattered old bag over his shoulder. “Okay then, where do we go?”

Dan pointed to the north. “This way.”

They followed the river’s current for almost half an hour. Distant chirping and buzzing filled the uncomfortable silence between them. They really didn’t have much energy after barely surviving a Flaretom attack to talk and decided to preserve it. Dan’s ankle itched and the shallow cuts on his face stung with a painful reminder they weren’t the only ones in the forest. Mark kept his head low, trudging along. Dan was used to long distance runs and a two-mile walk didn’t impact him much. Mark, on the other hand, huffed and puffed under his snout. The weight of his pack, pulling him lower to the ground.

Mark needed to break the silence. His health depended on it. “Can we stop somewhere?”

Pop! Pop! Boom! The boys froze as an explosion of sounds traveled between the trees. They looked south up the river. The clearing.

“Is that another one of them?” Dan asked

A low, distorted cry followed and then silence.

“Maybe it followed our scent and turned to ash like the other one.”

Dan shook his head. “Who knows what else is in here?”

Mark was frozen by the river. His shoulders numb by the weight of his bag.

“Come on,” Dan called from a few yards ahead.

“It’s stopped.”

“Good, now let’s go. We need to get moving.”

Mark didn’t move. He couldn’t move. It was all so chaotic. He felt a tug on his shoulder and spun around. Dan pulled him by his arm and he felt his legs begin to mechanically move like a locomotive leaving the station. Soon he was at full speed, adrenaline giving him a much-needed boost.

Dan was now well ahead of him breaking through the weak branches and low grass by the river. His blue polo and khakis carried dirt and leaves in his wake. The river was all they could focus on. It was their guide to the north, to their parents and couldn’t stray away. They ran for a good ten minutes until the adrenaline subsided replaced with aching, burning muscles and a looming thirst. Dan stopped this time and looked around. No beasts or dangers in sight. “Let’s take a break here. Drink up.”

Mark staggered to the ground and shifted his bookbag off his shoulders. He perused through its pockets, breathing heavily through his snout, and took out a canteen. He uncapped it and drank its cool liquid. He then took out a few snacks and let them refill some of his lost energy. They had traveled only a few miles, but it felt like a day’s long jog. The hot sun heated the forest with a greenhouse effect and their blood was boiling. Mark paced for a little bit to slow down his heart rate and collect his thoughts.

After fifteen minutes or what felt like thirty seconds, Dan called off their break and with now long, angular strides walked toward the river. He scooped up some more water into his new canteen he got from Mark and put it into his bookbag.

Mark was determined more than ever to find his parents, but he just wanted to pass out. He needed to rest to clear his head and Dan wasn’t letting up.

“Come on let’s go. We need to keep distance from it.”

Mark sighed and muttered under his breath. “Not if we die of exhaustion.”

Dan wasn’t paying attention, too busy looking up north with the focus of a statue. The sun broke through the canopy and shone his short brown hair.

Mark looked upon him and sighed, knowing he’ll never reach that level of determination and confidence. The only place he felt strong and powerful were within the old, riddled pages of his books, but this wasn’t a fantasy. This was real life and at this point he wasn’t the hero of the story more like a lowly sidekick who didn’t know what to do with themselves. He stood up, swung the bag around his shoulder, and mindlessly followed Dan.

They traveled until the sun was at the crest of the canopy. The shadows of the trees darkened the ground and their visibility shortened with each passing minute.

“Let’s find a place to camp for the night,” said Dan.

Mark stopped and fell to his knees. All he could hear was his heavy breathing. Every part of his body ached.

Dan continued on and leapt to the other side of the river with ease. His conditioned body feeling much better than Mark’s. He found a grouping of trees that formed a circle with a few bushes guarding its perimeter. Perfect. He ran in between the gaps of the trees and dropped his bag. “Mark, over here”

Mark grunted as he returned to his feet and staggered over to the edge of the river. He crossed over a few stones and a fallen tree that acted like a bridge halfway across. Once he was over he stumbled into the grouping of trees and lied down in their protected shade.

“Okay, now that we’re here we need to get firewood. It should be easy considering most of these trees look dry and easy to break apart.” Dan didn’t seem to notice his almost unconscious friend beside him. He clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s get to it.”

Mark panted and sat for a few moments before getting back up.

Dan returned with a big pile of sticks and branches and started to place them forming a cone that narrowed at the top. He searched his bag for something to start the fire with, but most of the matches and other supplies were still damp. He looked over at his friend. “Mark do you have any matches?”

Mark returned with a small pile of branches and plopped them on top of Dan’s pile. He was too tired to respond and sat down next to his bag. He perused through it sloth-like and then pulled out a box with a red side and tossed it at Dan.

“I need tinder too. Do you have any pieces of paper I can use?” Dan asked with a sternness that reminded Mark of some of his least favorite school teachers.

Mark sighed and searched through his bag and found his journal. He meant to keep this to chronicle their journey. He was going to name it something apt and creative, but all he could think of at the moment was “How we found our parents”. A sure winner. Maybe it would be used by some historical society or passed down generation to generation like some of his favorite writers and heroes, but for now its role was to keep them warm for the night. He went to the back pages of the journal and pulled on a few off the binding. He held them out for Dan to grab, too weak to get up and hand them himself.

Dan snatched them from his hand and placed them under the formation of sticks. He lit them up and blew underneath like billows in a forge. The sticks caught quickly and he threw more on top to keep the fire going. Soon it was a healthy campfire that breathed out wispy orange speckles to the light canopy above. Dan kept an eye on the flames and ashes to make sure they wouldn’t spread to a nearby tree and start a forest fire. He took some of the water in his canteen and doused the tree trunks around them just to be sure. A trick he learned from his father on one of their “runs”.

Meanwhile, Mark sat and jotted a few things in his journal. He started on the first page where he had already copied the warlock’s riddle. He scanned it a few more times and then flipped to a new page. The paper felt heavy in his lap and his pencil strayed from pressing up against it. It took a few moments to get the words to flow from his brain to the page, but once it came, it was smooth sailing. Mark chronicled the morning by the pond, the fight between Dan and his brother, Freddie, the mysterious screams, the bladecrow break-in, the manic run in the darkness, the flaretom chase and the fact that they are especially real, and the walk up the river, but he kept one thing to himself that he didn’t even want to write down. The woman’s voice. He still wasn’t entirely sure if she was real or just a part of his imagination that had begun to run wild. He closed his journal, tucked it safely into his bag, and looked up at the sky. Stars twinkled from above the canopy as the moonlight crept in between the long thin shadows of the trees.

Dan poked at the fire and pulled out a container filled with fresh meats. The sizzle of bacon gently popped in Mark’s ears as he stared lazily up at the sky. His eyelids grew heavy until they closed and was cast him off to a deep sleep.

Next Chapter: 6 - A Safe Place