Strays

Leon walked.

The storm had passed days ago, yet the earth remained damp beneath his steps, soft enough that his bare feet left shallow imprints in the soil.

He remembered how dry the ground had been before—when it was barren. It felt strange that the soil within this forest still held so much moisture when there were trees to absorb them.

The vegetation grew visibly—life itself had to hurry in Kaelar.

Towering trees with obsidian bark loomed overhead, their canopies tangled with vines that pulsed faintly, like sluggish veins. Strange fungi clung to their roots, releasing spores that shimmered when disturbed, drifting through the air like dying stars.

Before the forest, he had passed through a strange barrier of trees—or perhaps oversized bushes. They had trunks, but their branches sprouted from the roots, fusing into a dense lattice.

A natural barricade, meant to anchor the deeper forest, preventing the storms from uprooting it.

He should have learned of these in the Academy.

The air smelled rich—damp earth, rotting wood, and the distant scent of something animalistic.

Leon did not stray from his course.

South.

Hathur.

The thought should have unsettled him. That he was simply drifting, acting because he had nowhere else to go.

But it didn't. Not yet.

So he walked.

*

It was dark, the sun beginning to be eclipsed by the horizon.

A pack of four-legged beasts with eyes that glowed blue in the dim light, their bodies shifting slightly, the edges of their forms blurred.

Amalgams. The Integrated—beasts touched by the Laws, becoming something more than natural, yet never quite whole.

They moved quickly, circling, testing his reactions.

Their movements were strange, leaping at times, still at others.

But they were always one thing—silent. The very winds moved to accommodate their bodies.

They thought they weren't detected.

Leon exhaled, loosened his shoulders, and picked one off before the rest could react.

There was one thing that he didn't lose during the Integration—Stats. As much as the [STATUS] wanted to deny their existence, he still had them.

And they weren't scarce.

Blasting the ground he was on apart, he reached the beast and put his arms around its neck. It was smaller than the Grimchatters—weaker too.

Just squeezing was enough to reap its life. The crunching sound stopped the rest in their tracks.

But Leon didn't let up. Letting go, he went around the falling corpse to another beast that couldn't see Leon behind its fallen kin—this one died after Leon ripped it's jugular out.

Food.

Three days after killing the pack, the land changed. The forest gave way to jagged hills, covered in thick, rust-colored grass that shifted against the wind in slow, deliberate waves. And bones.

It was here that he met the lion.

An Amalgam, yet unlike the ones before.

It was massive, its fur dark as storm clouds, its eyes burning with an eerie, smoldering light. When it moved, the air around it shimmered slightly, as though it bent the world around it.

Leon stepped back slowly, thinking about whether fighting was worth it—but he wouldn't be the one making that decision.

The lion opened it's eyes, and immediately deemed Leon its next meal.

It pounced, and so did Leon.

The impact sent him rolling, his back hitting the rough ground with a force that left his breath stolen from his lungs. The lion's stats were higher than his—or perhaps the difference in mass was the reason for his loss in that exchange.

The lion's form blurred slightly as it moved, the air around it twisting. It wasn't just fast—its presence bent space, making distances deceptive.

Leon barely dodged as a claw tore past his ribs, his instincts pulling him back just in time.

His hand twitched—[Null] was a thought away. But not this time.

He grabbed a large bone.

The lion pounced again. He sidestepped toward its flank—ramming the bone into its knee. The impact cracked the bone and sent the beast stumbling, its balance thrown off.

But it wasn't enough, the lion swiped at him. Leon retreated, satisfied with the exchange, and quickly hid behind a boulder.

Looking from behind it, he realized that space wasn't the only Law the Amalgam held control over.

The wound on its knee was showered in yellow light, stopping the bleeding.

But that was fine. A fight of attrition would never be a problem for a rested Leon.

The battle continued, and it was desperate. Not the controlled, honed exchanges of warriors, but something raw, something closer to survival.

He used everything. The uneven terrain, the rocks, the bones, his hands. Every breath, every step was calculated instinct.

The lion lunged again, weary. He ducked beneath its claws, and struck against its lower jaw with all the force he could muster in his palm. It dislocated, dazing the Amalgam.

That was enough.

He drove his entire arm into its throat, almost jumping into the gaping maw. His other arm focused on keeping himself on the lion.

The beast couldn't bite, but its erratic movements wounded his shoulder and torso.

He probed the upper portion of the beast's throat, and tore everything in the way.

The beast stopped roaring. Its changed anatomy allowing it to screech from the pain it was experiencing—clawing both at Leon and its own face, dragging him through the ground littered with sharp bone fragments.

And then Leon reached the brain.

Blood. A heavy, gurgling snarl. Then silence.

Leon exhaled, chest rising and falling steadily. Calmly analyzing his wounds.

He had won. Without [Null]. Without the power he had come to rely on. The power that brings destruction both to him, and his foe.

Something that made sense. No matter how mystical, power must be derived from somewhere. If not, a price must be paid somehow.

Which made him think, 'Am I the only one? Or have people not realized that, they too are being affected by their powers?'

Leon pulled his arm away from the corpse, still pondering. 'I have never seen Enlightened Arbiters fight.'

He sat by the lion's body for a while, staring at his hands which carried with them brain matter.

Then, hunger returned.

* *

He tended to his wounds after the fight with the lion Amalgam. By a fire he lit up to try cooking. It would soon be night again.

Leon ate the first cooked meal he'd had since that day.

Sometime later, he heard something. A faint rustling, just beyond his sight.

He did not tense, nor move for a stance—he simply waited.

And from the undergrowth, it came.

A snake. Small. Unremarkable at a glance, yet something about it felt… off.

It hesitated, watching him. Not the way unintegrated beasts or normal Amalgams did, but something else.

And behind it—nothing. No nest. No brood.

Alone.

Leon only sighed. He did not drive it away.

It was wounded—more than he was. He tore a strip of cloth from what remained of his tunic.

Then picked it up and wrapped the cloth carefully around its wounds.

The snake did not resist.

It merely stilled. Then, with slow, deliberate motion, it curled beside the lights of the fire.

Leon did not know why he had done this.

But he did not regret it.

* * *

Waking up to the scent of rain, he watched the clouds darken above. Not needing to eat much, he moved to leave.

Until he remembered the snake he encountered last night.

He looked around the fire, almost missing it. There it lay—one with the ashen remains of his campfire.

It was a part of it, indiscernible from the dullness of the soot.

One with its surroundings.

Unaware.

Leon's eyes slightly widened at this sight.

Its wounds seemed to have recovered. Which meant the snake truly was a wild Amalgam—the weakest one he's encountered—but also the smartest.

He moved from the camp without taking the lion's meat, nor disturbing the slumbering snake. He started walking.

As he was leaving, he heard a rustle from where he left.

A small smile touched his lips as the snake unhesitatingly moved to him.

* * *

Days passed. The journey continued. Coiled around his neck was the snake, it was grey, with patterns glinting a dark black.

It was more plump now than when he found it, length still at just over a meter.

In the days that he spent roaming outside of the towns, he had not seen any Ferrier on patrol. Which was understandable. The invasion on the Academy must have made waves. Many died.

Too many.

And it was conducted by a tribesman of Tipun.

The island of Fenros was outraged by the attack—its people expecting a union. Serth must have been in anarchy.

But Leon knew something was chruning. Malrik had been the sole delegate of Tipun. And his final words were pleading, threatening that his life was tied to a hostage Malrik himself had no care for.

Leon was unsure why, but he felt that the hostage was located in Hathur.

Malrik was powerful. Able to control dozens of Awakened level Animations, he had to be Enlightened.

And since the hostage was useless against him, there was only one person in his mind that could take control of Malrik.

King Salim. The tyrant of Fenros.

Leon walked leisurely, appreciating the sunrise until Soot—the name of this grey snake—slithered to the ground.

He followed Soot as Soot once followed him. To a person, unconscious and vulnerable. The person was small, and upon closer look, was a girl that was no older than the people Leon used to call friends.

He didn't need to place his hand on her throat. 'She's alive. Barely.'

His ears were able to pick up on her slight heartbeats from where he stood.

But the reason he kept distance was not due to convenience, but because the girl was not unconscious.

Suddenly, he felt heavy, and Soot was stopped in its tracks.

The air around them seemed to have changed, and the blades of grass lowered.

The girl quickly moved to stab Soot, but her dagger was caught under Leon's foot—who just studied the girl.

She looked feral. Skinny, her cheeks were sticking to her teeth, her eyes sunk into her eye sockets, and under her eyes were dark bags.

An expression of fear and desperation in her black eyes.

Leon slowly picked up Soot, eyes locked on the girl.

Then, as if the changed gravity had no effect on him, he walked away—his eyes leaving her—as if she was no threat.

*

Nyssa's blade was frozen, stuck to the ground. Like the blade, she was unmoving. Her body was tensed, and ready to sprint away at the next moment.

She could have let go and continued attacking with her Skills, but something told her that she would be the one dying.

She stayed in position. Just letting herself be examined by the shockingly young boy. Similarly alone, but instead seemed to be thriving.

His white eyes betrayed no unease—in fact, any feeling at all. He picked up the snake she attempted to kill, something she deeply regretted trying.

She was hungry.

But then he turned away, and walked.

She remembered the words her… father told her.

<"One's truth is discovered when he bears power. Should he know that he's won.">

Letting go of the dagger, she tried to stand up, "Wai–"

But fell. Truly unconscious this time.

Soot moved back on the ground, confusing Leon. He looked down at it, and sighed.

"Okay."

* * *

They sat around a flame, Leon, Nyssa, and Soot. They were in a cave, hidden from the abuse the skies dealt to the world.

'Do you have a skill for picking up strays?' He whispered to Soot, coiled around his arm.

Who only flicked its black tongue.

He looked towards the girl on the other side of the flames. Her eyes locked firmly on the strange pair.

Leon had no need for sleep, he just did so to pass the time and because it was what his family had been doing.

Leon thought idly, 'Why do I need food but not sleep?' It made him frown.

But sleeping did help a lot with recovery, something the girl desperately needed.

'I don't think she will try to sleep.' He noted her cautiousness, so rare for her age.

Leon simply closed his eyes, and waited for the storm to pass.