NOVEL NEXT Chapter 13: A Silent Vow
The sudden return to the dim, crystal-veined gloom of the Confluence Zone, just outside the still-pulsating violet Rift, was a jarring, almost violent shift. The roaring doom of the island, the colossal, world-ending tsunami, the heartbreaking sight of the Matriarch Glimmerfox left behind on that doomed beach — it all felt like a fever dream, a nightmare burned into my memory. Yet the small, shimmering creature materializing beside me, trembling faintly, was undeniable proof of its stark reality. The air here felt cold and dead after the vibrant warmth of the island. The familiar scent of damp earth and strange fungi felt almost alien after the clean salt and exotic blossoms.
The Glimmerfox pup immediately turned to stare at the shimmering veil of the Rift, the portal to his lost home. A low, mournful whimper escaped its throat, a sound of pure, raw anguish that twisted something in my chest. Its feathery antennae drooped, an expression of utter desolation etched on its delicate, intelligent features. It shivered, its amber eyes wide with lingering terror from the cataclysm it had barely escaped and fresh, raw grief from the parent it had truly lost. He looked so small, so utterly alone in this vast, hostile new world.
I slowly sank to my knees, extending a hand, palm open, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. "Hey," I said softly, my voice raspy with emotion. "It's okay. You're safe now. We're… we're out. That place… it's gone."
It flinched at my voice but didn't bolt. Instead, after a long, heart-wrenching moment where it seemed to be reliving the horror, he took a hesitant step towards me, then another. His gaze was fixed on my outstretched hand, perhaps seeking some small anchor in the storm of its grief. Then, with a tiny sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a shattered world, he pressed his small, warm head into my palm. His fur was incredibly soft, like spun silk, and a faint, ancient thrum of power, a subtle vibration of concentrated Essence, radiated from him. I gently stroked his head. The simple act was a strange, unexpected point of connection in this alien landscape, a silent promise passing between us.
The journey back to my Sanctum, [The Veiled Path], was a long and tough one. I had found the Rift at the very edge of what I considered my survivable scouting range, nearly a full day's careful trek from my hidden cave. Burdened now with a small, grieving, and entirely unknown companion, I moved with extra caution. My senses were on high alert, constantly conscious of potential threats lurking in the dense, alien undergrowth. The little Glimmerfox, after his initial shock and overwhelming grief began to fade into a quieter sorrow, proved to be surprisingly resilient. He trotted quietly at my heels, his large amber eyes constantly scanning our surroundings with an intelligence and alertness that his small size didn't suggest. His feathery antennae twitched, sampling the unfamiliar scents of this new world. My own energy reserves felt comfortably stable. The constant, steady thrum of Essence processed by my Soul Gate fueled my enhanced body and the new Mana pool within me.
We made camp once, a cold, hidden camp. I relied on my [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil] for cover and the oppressive darkness of the Confluence Zone's perpetual twilight. We shared the last of my waterskin. The pup curled up beside me for warmth, a small, comforting presence. Finally, late the next day, weary but safe, we reached the subtly hidden entrance to the Sanctum. Its [Phantom Threshold] wavered into visibility only for me.
Once inside its protective confines, the pup seemed to relax a fraction, its trembling lessening. The Sanctum's [Essence Quieting Field] probably felt soothing after the raw, chaotic energies of the Rift and the wild, untamed Confluence Zone. I made sure he was comfortable in a sheltered alcove I lined with some dried moss. I offered him pieces of the cooked Obsidian Stalker meat — the last of my hunt from before finding the Rift. He ate a little, his initial sorrow still overshadowing his hunger, but it was a start. He curled up and fell into an exhausted, twitching sleep.
Leaving him safely within the Sanctum's protective embrace each day felt like the only sensible option for the next week. I couldn't risk his safety on my hunts, not yet, not until I understood more about him and he had recovered more from his ordeal. My hunts were cautious, deliberate trips, pushing the boundaries of my scouting radius bit by bit. I avoided anything that felt remotely like a Tier 2 threat. I focused on replenishing my food stores with more plentiful Tier 1 creatures — strange, heavily scaled herbivores with hide like patterned granite that the System identified as "Stonepelt Grazers," their meat tough but nourishing, and agile, nocturnal burrowing creatures with surprisingly sharp talons called "Chitin-Diggers." Each successful hunt provided not just food, but also those vital traces of Primal Essence I could cultivate. I converted some into Quintessence Shards for the Prime System Shop, and the rest into slow, steady gains for my core attributes. My [Basic Spear Mastery] was improving; movements were becoming less thought and more reflex. The spear felt like a natural extension of my arm. I practiced my [Mana Manipulation] too, in the quiet of the Sanctum. I focused on the simple light generation for illumination and the heat production for cooking, constantly striving for better control, a more efficient burn of my internal reserves, pushing the boundaries of what that "Rare" skill could do.
About a week after rescuing him, as that internal week-long timer on my [Glimpse of a Path] reset once more, bringing with it the familiar readiness of my Soul Ability, I was tracking a particularly large Stonepelt Grazer. It was wily, leading me a merry chase through a dense thicket of fibrous, crimson-leafed reeds near a bubbling geothermal vent that spewed sulfurous steam. I had finally maneuvered it into a narrow gully, spear ready for a decisive thrust, when a shimmer of opalescent light and a soft pop, like a bubble bursting, announced an unexpected arrival directly at my side.
I yelped, spinning, spear instantly defensive, my heart leaping into my throat, before my brain registered the familiar shifting fur and wide amber eyes. It was the Glimmerfox pup. He was panting lightly, a dusting of Sanctum dirt on his shimmering coat, but otherwise unharmed. His feathery antennae twitched as he regarded me with an almost nonchalant air, then turned his attention to the cornered Grazer.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"You!" I exclaimed, my heart still racing from the surprise. Relief warred with astonishment. "How in the blazes did you get here? What are you doing? I left you in the Sanctum! Locked, or so I thought!" He'd just appeared, out of thin air, traveling kilometers in an instant — the Sanctum confirming his presence inside just moments ago. There was no sign of a trail, no sound of approach. It was a true teleportation, sudden and precise. The little fox was full of astonishing, potent secrets.
He let out a soft chuff, as if to say, 'What's the big deal?', nudged my leg reassuringly, then turned his full attention to the Grazer. A low, surprisingly deep growl rumbled in his chest. His fur seemed to ignite from within, the shifting colors intensifying into a brilliant, pulsing display of blues, golds, and whites. He wasn't just following; he looked ready, eager even, to join the fight.
The Stonepelt Grazer, clearly unnerved by the sudden materialization of this radiant, growling newcomer, made a desperate attempt to charge past me. The Glimmerfox pup moved like a flicked flame, a streak of living light, impossibly fast. He intercepted it, herding it back with surprising authority, nipping at its heels. The distraction was all I needed. My spear, guided by my improving mastery, found its mark in the Grazer's exposed flank.
Later, after absorbing the Grazer's essence — a meager trickle compared to the Lurker or even the Stalker — and while I butchered the kill with practiced efficiency, the pup sat watching me with an unreadable intensity in its golden eyes. "You're full of surprises, aren't you, little guy?" I said, looking at the small, powerful creature who had just teleported across a significant distance. "Do you… do you have a name?"
He tilted his head, his feathery antennae quivering as if tasting my words. Then, he let out a series of soft, complex sounds — a low chuff like rustling leaves, a clear, high whistle like a bird's call, then a sound like wind sighing through ancient pines, ending in a sharp, clear click. It wasn't just noise; it felt like an answer, resonant and filled with an ancient grace. A name, spoken in a language far older than human tongues. He then looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to understand, to acknowledge.
I tried to form the sounds, my human vocal cords struggling with the alien sounds. "K…Kael-en?" It was the closest I could get to the alien syllables, the closest human sound to the wind-and-click melody he'd produced. The 'Kae' like the wind, the 'len' like the click.
His amber eyes brightened noticeably. His plumed tail gave a single, affirmative flick. He then nudged my hand again, a soft bump of his head, as if pleased by my attempt. Kaelen. It had a strange, resonant quality, like something out of an old legend, fitting for such an extraordinary creature.
Then, my newly recognized companion, Kaelen, nudged my hand insistently before trotting over to a patch of clear, dusty earth nearby, smoothed by the wind. With one delicate, sharp claw, he began to etch patterns into the dirt. His movements were surprisingly precise.
The lines were crude at first, hesitant, then slowly gained coherence as he concentrated. He drew a large, noble figure — unmistakably a Glimmerfox Matriarch, stylized but recognizable. Lines radiated from it, suggesting immense light or power. Her form was majestic even in the crude sketch. Then, he drew other figures around her, taller, more rigid, with long, thin limbs and blocky bodies. These figures carried pointed objects — spears or staves perhaps — and they surrounded the Matriarch, penning her in. His claw strokes became more agitated, more forceful, as he depicted these figures closing in, their pointed objects aimed at the Glimmerfox. The scene conveyed a sense of overwhelming force, of a merciless hunt, not a battle between equals. He wasn't just showing me an attack; he was showing me an execution.
My breath caught in my throat. He was illustrating how his mother had died. Not by some random beast of their doomed island, not by the cataclysm, but by… people. Sentient beings who hunted his mother with cruel efficiency.
Kaelen paused, his small body trembling. Then with meticulous, painful care, he added small, angular markings to the heads of the attacking figures — simple, almost geometric shapes suggesting helmets or some kind of uniform headgear. And on their chests, he etched a recurring, stylized symbol — a kind of harsh, blocky 'S' or a jagged, lightning-bolt-like line. They were vague, lacking true detail because of how he drew them, yet the implication was chillingly clear. These weren't primitive savages. They were organized. Coordinated. Perhaps even uniformed.
He looked up at me, his amber eyes burning with a fierce, sorrowful intelligence. A grief so profound it made my own heart ache. Then he looked back at the drawing of the attacking figures. He let out a sharp, determined bark, a sound filled with new fury. Then with a vicious swipe of his claw, he obliterated the image of the symbolized attackers, scattering the dust. His small body trembled with a suppressed, potent rage. He then tapped his chest with his claw, a tiny, determined thump, then pointed his nose decisively at the defaced drawing. His intent radiated from him as clearly as any spoken word, a vow etched in the air. Vengeance.
A cold knot formed in my stomach, a chill that had nothing to do with the Confluence Zone's perpetual twilight. These figures… organized, symbolized, ruthless enough to hunt down and execute a being as powerful as Kaelen's mother, a creature who could tear rifts between worlds. I didn't know who they were, nor did Kaelen, not truly, not yet. But his crude drawing of their stark silhouettes and their distinctive emblem painted a chilling picture of methodical, relentless hunters. He wanted them to pay. He wanted them to suffer as his mother had suffered.
My heart ached for the little creature. He wasn't just a survivor; he was an orphan bearing the weight of a profound betrayal, a burning desire for revenge against an enemy so vast and powerful I could barely comprehend their scope or nature. This wasn't just about survival anymore, not for Kaelen. And looking into his determined, grieving eyes, a new, unwelcome, yet undeniable certainty began to solidify within me. My path, already solitary and dangerous, had just intersected with a vendetta far older and grander than my own struggles. And this small, shimmering fox, Kaelen, my unexpected companion from a dying world, was utterly, fiercely determined to see it through.
And somehow, I knew I would help him.