That was how long it had been since Cassian’s home was destroyed.
And Cassian?
He had spent every one of those months surviving in the forest alone, in the deep western woods, with no one left to rely on, no one left to tell him what to do, no one left standing between him and any of it.
And yet.
Against every odd stacked against him, he was still alive.
"Aaaaannnnd NOW!" He sprinted toward the lake, hands slapping into the cold water.
"Got you!" He lifted his hands out, dripping.
Nothing. The fish had slipped free before he’d even finished the second attempt. The water settled back into stillness, empty and, somehow, almost mocking about it.
He sighed. "Insects it is, then."
He caught his own reflection in the water and held still a moment. His once-short hair had grown out past his neck now, tangled and filthy he’d never cared much for how he looked even before everything happened, but never to the point of disgusting himself, either. Dirt streaked both cheeks. His clothes hung off him, torn and stained past saving.
What he noticed most, though, were his eyes.
Once, the strange rings there had been mostly orange, with only a thin thread of purple running through the center. Now the purple had swallowed nearly the whole eye, leaving only a thin inner ring of orange still burning at the core. The change felt permanent, the way a scar feels permanent.
He stared at his reflection a few seconds longer. He barely recognized the boy looking back at him. Not because of the tangled hair. Not because of the dirt caked into his skin.
His eyes. They reminded him of everything, every single time he looked at them.
The village. Zayd. Aurelia. Azhur. His father.
His expression hardened. He looked away first. "I need food."
His stomach growled again, loud enough to embarrass him even alone out here. "Yeah. I really need food."
He hadn’t eaten anything in three days.
He stood, legs weaker under him than they should have been after eleven nearly twelve years of a body that used to bounce back from anything. Weeks of sparse meals had left their mark whether he wanted to admit it or not. "Insects won’t cut it anymore." He looked toward the deeper parts of the forest. "I need something else." A pause. "No.no meat. Too dangerous."
But he’d told himself that every single time before, and every time he’d talked himself out of hunting anyway. He hadn’t eaten meat once since entering this forest three months ago. He’d always considered it. He’d always found a reason to back away from it.
But now? He was far more experienced than the boy who’d first stumbled in here. He’d learned the sounds of the forest, the patterns of the wind through the canopy, the difference between a safe track in the dirt and a track that meant death.
"I can’t keep going like this." He looked toward the deeper woods, jaw tight. He knew there were animals in there he could hear them some nights, could sometimes catch a glimpse from a safe distance. Until now he’d always kept away. He hadn’t been strong enough. Or that was what he’d told himself, anyway, every single time.
He bit down hard on his own tongue. "I don’t want to starve." A breath. "I’m hunting. Today."
The moment the words left his mouth, his stomach growled again, as if agreeing with him.
"Yeah. I know."
He picked a small wooden stick up off the ground and started walking. No real weapon. No one left to help him. Just his fire, and three months of hard-earned experience that had cost him more than he liked to think about.
He moved slowly through the trees, keeping to the shadow of the branches, eyes fixed low on the ground, searching for tracks. After a while he found some small, light, the kind of prints that would barely feed him for half a day.
He crouched to examine them anyway. "Too small." He kept walking.
Eventually he found a second set much larger than the first. His expression sharpened at once. He pressed a hand flat to the dirt. Still fresh. Whatever had made these tracks couldn’t have gone far.
He stood. "Alright." He looked ahead into the thickening trees. "Let’s see what you are."
He followed the tracks deeper into the woods. The trees grew thicker around him, sunlight thinning until it nearly vanished altogether. His breathing quieted on instinct, tuning itself to every small sound around him the creak of branches overhead, the distant drip of unseen water, the faint rustle of something moving through dry leaves.
If he’d learned one true thing living out here alone, it was this: never rush. One careless step could draw exactly the wrong kind of attention. And in this forest, the wrong kind of attention only ever meant one thing.
He stopped. A second set of tracks crossed the ones he’d been following. He crouched again, studying both sets carefully.
"Two different animals." He looked around, listening hard for anything that might tell him which one was closer. "Wonderful."
He stood and kept following the larger set. The prints ran deep and heavy, spaced wide for something large, something built to carry real weight.
Rustle.
He froze mid-step. Something was moving nearby. He lowered his body on instinct, a small flame flickering to life in one open palm. He waited, heart steady despite everything, ready for whatever came.
Nothing.
His eyes narrowed. Rustle. Closer this time, unmistakably closer.
He crept toward the sound and eased a branch aside.
His eyes went wide.
A massive, deer-like creature stood in a small clearing ahead far larger than any deer he’d ever laid eyes on before, its antlers enormous, curving up over its skull like a crown carved from bone. Muscle shifted visibly under its hide as it grazed, unbothered, unaware of him yet.
He swallowed hard. "That’s bigger than I expected."
The animal’s head lifted, turning toward him all at once. He went rigid. For one long moment the two of them simply stared at each other across the clearing. Neither moved. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath alongside them.
He lowered his hand slowly, palm out. "Easy..."
Its ears twitched once. He took a small step back. "I don’t want to hurt you."
It lowered its head instead.
His eyes went wide. "Wait"
It charged.
"OH, COME ON!"
He threw himself sideways as it barreled past him, smashing straight through the undergrowth with terrifying force. He rolled, came up fast on his feet, looked at the broken branches scattered around him, then at the creature as it wheeled back around to face him again.
"Okay." He raised both fists, flame gathering around his knuckles. "So that’s how we’re doing this."
Three months ago he would have panicked outright, would have run without thinking twice. Not anymore. He’d had to become stronger than that boy, whether he wanted to or not.
It charged again. He watched its legs this time, not its size, not the antlers the way its weight shifted from one side to the other with every stride.
Wait.
It closed the distance fast.
Not yet.
Its footsteps thundered louder, closer.
Not yet.
His flames grew brighter, hotter, gathering at his fists like they knew what was coming even before he did.
It was almost on top of him now.
Now.
At the last possible instant he jumped clear, then spun to face it. "NOW!" He thrust his hand forward, flame bursting outward and catching the animal square in the side.
BOOM.
It stumbled, slid hard across the dirt. His eyes widened. "It worked"
He nearly let himself smile until it climbed back to its feet, unhurt in spirit even if its flank was scorched raw. His smile vanished on the spot. It wasn’t running. It was furious. Steam rose off the burned patch on its side, curling up into the cold air.
He stepped back, resetting his stance. "...Right." He tightened both fists. "Guess we’re not done yet."