Real Meal

Kassian reached the rushing river, breath ragged, legs aching, but no harpy in sight.

To his surprise, the shape-shifting predator hadn't followed him. Maybe it was satisfied with the chunk it stole - or maybe it simply didn't see him as worth the effort. Either way, he wasn't going to test his luck.

Still clutching the bloodied bundle, Kassian waded into a shallow bend of the river. The water hissed around his ankles as he lowered the meat beneath the surface. With trembling hands, he buried the strips beneath a pocket of silt and stones, covering it with a loose wall of rocks to keep it from floating away. It wasn't perfect, but it would hide the scent - at least from whatever hunted by smell.

The water would preserve it. Maybe even clean it.

At least… that was the hope.

Kassian backed away, scanning the trees again. Nothing moved.

He retreated under the thick shade of a nearby bush and collapsed onto his side, chest rising and falling in ragged silence.

The encounter with the harpy had left him shaken.

The way it smiled.

The way it watched him.

He pressed his back tighter against the trunk behind him, trying to disappear into the greenery. His hands twitched.

Literally.

He had developed the habit of moving - fingers, toes, anything - just enough to avoid slipping into Merge. That stillness-triggered void from which he couldn't escape, and he didn't want to be stuck in an incorporeal state again unable to return.

Time passed.

The river kept rushing, a steady murmur that lulled him into uneasy quiet.

Then, movement caught his eye.

Near the edge of the underbrush, nestled beneath a tall fern, he saw them - blue, round fruits half-buried in the soft dirt. Smooth-skinned, glowing faintly like marbles under moonlight.

Kassian froze.

Waited.

Nothing stirred.

His instincts reached out… and the answer returned.

'Edible.'

Without hesitation, he crawled forward on all fours, pulling himself toward the fruits. Greed overtook caution. Hunger made decisions now. He had risked everything for meat - and now, this was a bonus. A gift.

He plucked them one by one, careful not to damage their thin skins, and tucked them into the folds of his shirt. The leaves rustled softly with each movement, but the forest remained silent.

No snapping branches.

No distant growls.

No winged horrors gliding from the trees.

He gathered as much as he could carry without risking a spill, then returned to his hiding spot. There, hidden in the green, Kassian stared out at the world that still hadn't killed him and whispered under his breath:

"This is getting tiring."

As the sun sank below the treetops, painting the forest in shades of gold and blood-orange, Kassian sat beneath the brush with a new dilemma gnawing at him - stronger even than the lingering fear from the harpy encounter.

Fire.

The word carried weight in this world. Comfort and danger wrapped into one flickering dance. Back in the corrupted forest, he had learned that flame drew attention. Predators - like the eyeless black feline - were drawn to its warmth. Its light.

But this was different.

This forest was different.

And now, he had meat.

His stomach twisted in protest, reminding him of his hunger - not the dull ache of starvation, but the ravenous need to taste something real. His mouth watered as the thought took hold: roasted meat.

Not raw.

Not buried.

Cooked. Warm. Satisfying.

He debated in silence as the light slowly faded across the horizon. If he lit a fire now, it would burn low by the time true night settled in. Better to do it while the light still lingered. It might mask the light from his fire.

He made his choice.

Kassian left the safety of his bush and followed the river upstream until he found a small cliff face carved into the earth - likely the result of the river's long erosion. A natural alcove, half-shaded by curling vines and mossy stone overhang, offered shelter and cover.

It was perfect.

He scoured the area for kindling - dry branches, curled leaves, strips of bark. The bright forest yielded easily. Even its deadwood smelled cleaner, less like rot and more like old spice. He worked quickly, muscle memory taking over as he built the fire into a small nest and retrieved the flint lighter from his pocket.

The flame came to life with a whisper.

It danced low, crackling gently, and he shielded it with a ring of damp stones pulled from the riverbank.

With the fire steady, Kassian returned to his hidden cache, retrieved his pouch of meat, and carefully unwrapped it. Some had soaked in the river, but most was still intact. He sat beside the fire and peeled one of the salty fruits - green-skinned and oval, the flesh inside pale and sticky.

It smelled strong.

Instinct told him exactly what to do.

Using a smooth stone, he crushed the fruit's innards and smeared the thick, briny juice over the strips of meat. The scent was sharp, mouth-watering. Primitive. It clung to his fingers like raw spice. Kassian wasn't sure how he knew - but the salt in the fruit would preserve whatever he couldn't cook tonight.

He rubbed the last of the fruit onto the largest piece, wrapped it tightly in fresh leaves, and buried it under a cool slab of stone behind him.

Then, he turned his attention to the fire.

With dried sticks he found laying around, he speared a strip of meat and held it over the flame. The fat sizzled. Smoke curled upward. His eyes widened as the scent hit him - rich, savory, real.

He exhaled slowly.

For the first time in days, maybe for the first time in his life, Kassian felt something close to peace.

But still… he kept glancing at the trees.

Because this was still the unknown.

And peace never lasted long here.

As the meat sizzled on skewers and flat stones heated near the fire, the scent rose with the smoke - rich, savory, intoxicating. It curled around the trees like a siren's call, promising warmth, flavor, and life.

Kassian sat close, cross-legged beside the flame, his eyes half-lidded as he watched the juices drip and hiss against the hot stones. It was the kind of moment that once belonged to another world - a campfire, food, peace. The kind of moment that was never meant for him.

To his side, he placed the blue, round fruits he had collected earlier - half-buried beneath the brush, their skins faintly glistening in the fading light. Their presence was subtle, but something about them called to him too, like they belonged on the same table as his hard-won meat.

And then he felt it.

A familiar gaze.

A silent presence from beyond the firelight - neither hostile nor friendly, just… observing.

The same one that had watched him cross the clearing from the corrupted forest. Not with hunger. Not with judgment. Just with an eerie kind of focus. Like it was taking notes.

He didn't react at first. No sudden glance, no tightening of the shoulders.

Let it watch.

He had earned this fire. This meal.

Still, the weight of it settled on his skin like a cloak. His every move felt exposed, measured, weighed.

Even so, Kassian proceeded.

With calm fingers, he reached for one of the blue fruits. His nails - once caked with mud - were now clean, rinsed during his earlier trek through the river when he had hidden the meat cache beneath the shallow bank. They glinted faintly in the firelight as he dug into the skin of the fruit, peeling it slowly.

The skin came off in smooth curls, releasing a subtle, tart scent into the air. It reminded him of something distant and half-forgotten - berries, maybe. Or the faint sweetness of old preserves he once tasted in a forgotten ration pack.

He placed the peeled fruit on a smooth stone beside him, then began peeling another. Steady. Methodical.

If the watcher wanted something from him, it would have to wait.

This was his moment.

His fire.

His food.

Then the moment came.

Kassian reached for one of the roasted cuts, the stick it was skewered on now charred black at one end, faintly glowing with embers. It crackled softly as he lifted it, but it held firm.

He brought it close to his lips, gently blowing on the meat, watching the juice bead and glisten in the firelight. Then, without hesitation, he bit down.

The flavor hit him like a shockwave.

Savory. Salty. Rich with oils and seared fat. The salty fruit had done more than preserve - it had enhanced, layering the wild flavor with something almost addictive.

Kassian's eyes widened.

He chewed slowly at first, but then faster - devouring the rest of the meat with barely a breath in between. It wasn't just hunger. It was revelation. Every fiber of his body reacted to it, as if recognizing something it had been denied for too long.

By the time he swallowed, he felt it.

A warmth blooming in his chest, spreading outward through tired muscles and aching bones. The meat's nutrients didn't just nourish - they revitalized. Like fuel poured into a dying engine, each bite reignited something inside him.

Strength. Alertness. Life.

He reached for another piece. Finished it just as swiftly.

Then, he picked up one of the peeled blue fruits and took a bite. The burst of juice filled his mouth, tangy-sweet and bright, cutting through the lingering salt and fire-charred meat. It slid down his throat like cool spring water, soothing and satisfying all at once.

The contrast was perfect.

The feast was simple, primal, and utterly glorious.

By the time he set the last fruit peel aside, Kassian sat back with a hand on his stomach, exhaling softly.

A small smile crept onto his face.

Not just relief. Not just satisfaction.

Victory.

For once, he wasn't surviving.

He was living.

With a satisfied look on his face, Kassian glanced around - and blinked.

There was still meat left. Nearly half of what he had stolen from the kill.

"That's weird. I thought I roasted all of it," he muttered. Shrugging, he smiled and gathered the untouched pieces, wrapping them neatly before placing them back into his pouch. Maybe he could enjoy the same meal tomorrow. The salty fruit and blue berries were still scattered nearby, growing wild and unguarded.

For the first time in days, his stomach was full, his limbs relaxed, and no immediate danger loomed over him.

Before he knew it, sleep took him.

And he didn't resist.

---

In the boundless void, he drifted again.

The black domain welcomed him like an old companion. Familiar, cold, and vast.

As always, the Spark of Order floated gently in the distance, a silent sentinel pulsing with faint white light. Beside him, the dagger hovered loyally. But this time, something new had come with him.

His pouch.

It was still the same makeshift bundle - stitched together from dried leaves and fastened with twisted vines - but somehow, it had survived everything: the forest, the beasts, the sprint for his life.

He peeked inside.

The meat was still there.

He furrowed his brows, more curious than alarmed. If items could follow him into the void… then what was this place, really?

Too tired to ponder further, Kassian laid down in the blackness - and for once, he slept even within the dream.

---

Morning.

His eyes snapped open as his body jerked upright.

Cool air washed over him. The fire had long gone out, reduced to glowing embers. The forest around him was quiet.

Then he saw them.

Footprints.

Massive ones. Deep and deliberate, stamped across the sand just meters from where he had slept. Something had walked right past him during the night - something big.

Yet… he was unharmed.

His body hadn't been dragged, bitten, or torn apart. Not even a scratch.

Kassian's mind raced as realization dawned.

"Merge..." he whispered. "It also activates when I sleep."

He had always assumed it required intent - stillness. But if the same incorporeal state took hold when he lost consciousness, then…

He was safe when asleep.

No monsters. No pain. No fear.

A laugh almost bubbled up in his throat. Super safe, his mind joked, clinging to the odd comfort.

But the moment was short-lived.

The water ahead stirred.

He turned - and saw her.

A woman. Wading through the shallow part of the river.

Kassian froze.

No. Not a woman. The harpy. The same creature from yesterday, still wearing her porcelain disguise.

She hadn't changed. Still eerily beautiful, still walking barefoot with the same disturbing grace. Her green hair spilled down her back like a silk curtain, glinting in the morning light.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, her expression twisted into surprise. Then - recognition.

And she smiled.

Kassian's skin crawled.

Then, without a word, she bent her knees - and leapt.

Wings exploded from her back as feathers reformed midair, her limbs stretching, reshaping. The harpy returned in full, its radiant plumage catching the sunlight as she soared upward, vanishing into the treetops.

Gone.

But not gone forever.

Kassian stood still for a long moment, staring at the sky.

And somehow, he knew.

She'd be back to terrorize him.