Travelling

Days blurred together in Streacresh Forest’s eternal twilight. Estaria had lost count of how many sunrises and sunsets had filtered through the dense canopy since leaving the mural behind. The waiting gnawed at him worse than any immediate challenge could have.

Each morning, he woke expecting to face another test, muscles tensed and mind racing. But instead, Sentinel led him through the forest’s winding paths, stopping to rest in clearings that looked maddeningly similar to ones they’d passed before. The monotony of their journey left too much space for thoughts to spiral.

The creature’s bark-like hide blended with the surrounding trees as they walked, making it seem like part of the forest itself had decided to accompany Estaria.

They shared meals of forest fruits and clear spring water, when available, each identical to the last. Estaria’s dreams replayed the mural’s images – the old man, the dragon, the obsidian tower – until he could have sketched every detail from memory. But no new insights emerged from his endless analysis.

The waiting wore on him more than physical exhaustion ever could. His mind raced through possibilities, each more unlikely than the last. Was his understanding of the first test incomplete? Had he failed in some subtle way? Or was this delay itself another kind of test?

The wonders of the alien surroundings lost their novelty, as moments stretched into hours. He caught himself studying the patterns of lichen on tree trunks, desperate for any sign or symbol. Then hours would compress into seconds as he lost himself in memories of the mural’s shifting truths.

The incline beneath his feet registered suddenly, breaking through his circling thoughts. They were climbing, the forest floor rising steadily for the first time since they’d begun their journey. Sentinel’s claws clicked against exposed rock where the soil had worn thin.

Estaria blinked, really looking at their surroundings for the first time in days. The trees here grew at odd angles, their trunks twisting to remain upright on the uneven ground. Moss-covered boulders jutted from the earth like the bones of some ancient giant. The air felt different too – thinner, carrying unfamiliar scents.

The slope grew steeper with each step. What had started as a gentle rise became a challenging climb. Sentinel moved with surprising grace despite its bulk, finding secure footing where Estaria had to scramble and grab at exposed roots.

Sweat beaded on Estaria’s forehead, muscles burning from the unexpected exertion. The physical demands of the climb cleared his mind, forcing him to focus on the immediate present rather than chase thoughts in endless circles.

Branches and undergrowth gave way suddenly, and Estaria stumbled into what he initially took for another clearing. His eyes fixed on an enormous boulder ahead, its weathered surface rising from the ground like the crown of some buried giant. But as he stepped fully into the open air, his breath caught.

The boulder wasn’t merely sitting in a clearing – it projected out from a mountain ridge, hanging suspended over a vast expanse of wilderness below. The late afternoon sun painted the eastern half of Streacresh Forest in shades of emerald and gold, stretching toward the horizon in an unbroken carpet of ancient growth. Wisps of mist clung to the treetops, creating the illusion that the forest itself was breathing.

Strange creatures danced through the air above the canopy. At first glance, they resembled bats with feathered wings, but their movements were too fluid, too plantlike. As he watched more closely, Estaria realized some looked more like living leaves that had sprouted wings, riding the thermal currents with impossible grace. Their bodies shifted between animal and vegetable forms as they wheeled through the golden light.

The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, carrying the mingled scents of pine sap and wild herbs. The wind up here felt different from the still air beneath the canopy – alive with possibility rather than heavy with secrets.

“Is this the next test?” Estaria asked, turning to Sentinel.

The creature didn’t respond directly. Instead, it moved to the edge of the outcropping with measured steps, its claws finding purchase on the weathered stone. Its massive chest expanded as it drew in a deep breath, yellow eyes scanning the vista below. Something in its posture shifted – a lifting of the head, a squaring of its shoulders. If Estaria didn’t know better, he’d have sworn the creature was showing off its domain with pride.

The sight sparked an unexpected warmth in Estaria’s chest. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing Sentinel as a guardian and guide that he’d almost forgotten the creature was also a part of this wild place. Here, standing on the precipice with the forest spread out below them, Sentinel seemed less like a mysterious guide and more like someone sharing a beloved home with an honored guest.

“It’s beautiful,” Estaria said softly, moving to stand beside his companion. The rock beneath his feet was sun-warmed and solid, despite the dizzying drop beyond its edge. “I never imagined seeing it like this.”

From this vantage point, the forest that had seemed so chaotic and overwhelming from within revealed patterns he hadn’t been able to discern from ground level. Swaths of differently colored vegetation created natural boundaries. Clearings dotted the landscape like pools of sunlight. Even the mist followed regular paths, suggesting hidden waterways beneath the canopy.

A group of the leaf-winged creatures spiraled closer, their bodies catching the light like stained glass. Up close, Estaria could see how their wings pulsed with something between a heartbeat and the rhythm of swaying branches. They regarded him with eyes that sparkled like dew drops before banking away on the wind.

Sentinel’s tail swept across the stone in a slow arc, and its claws tapped out a pattern that seemed to echo the wingbeats of the aerial dancers. The creature’s usual intensity had softened into something almost contemplative as they stood together on the outcropping, sharing the view in companionable silence.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the outcropping. A sudden flash caught Estaria’s eye as light reflected off a crystalline vein in the rock. He turned away, blinking against the afterimage burned into his vision. The dark shape in his mind’s eye morphed and twisted, reminding him of that first day in the forest - of the shadowy creature that had nearly destroyed Sentinel.

The memory sent a chill down his spine despite the warm evening air. He turned to his companion, who continued gazing out over the forest vista.

“That thing that attacked you,” Estaria said, breaking their peaceful silence. “What was it?”

Sentinel’s head snapped toward him, yellow eyes narrowing. The creature’s wooden hide creaked as muscles tensed beneath its bark-like surface.

“Will it come back?” Estaria pressed. “Are there more like it?”

A low growl rumbled from Sentinel’s throat, vibrating through the stone beneath their feet. His tail began to whip back and forth, scraping against the rock with each agitated swing. The peaceful mood from moments before evaporated like morning dew.

Sentinel’s claws clicked against the stone as he paced the outcropping, movements sharp and jerky compared to his usual fluid grace. He stopped suddenly, facing Estaria, and released a series of short, guttural barks that echoed off the mountainside.

The leaf-winged creatures scattered at the sound, their delicate forms dissolving into the dimming light. Even the wind seemed to still, as if holding its breath.

Estaria wished, not for the first time, that he could understand Sentinel’s sounds and gestures as clearly as the creature seemed to understand his words. The intensity of Sentinel’s reaction suggested this was more than a simple predator-prey relationship.

The shadows lengthened around them as the sun sank lower. Sentinel’s agitation grew with the darkness, his tail movements becoming more erratic. His claws dug into the stone, leaving shallow grooves that caught the last rays of sunlight.

“I need to know,” Estaria said, keeping his voice steady despite the growing unease in his gut. “If there’s danger, I should be prepared.”

Sentinel’s growl deepened, reverberating through the outcropping. His yellow eyes gleamed in the twilight as he turned his flat face toward the forest below. His claws tapped against the stone - not the usual rhythmic patterns Estaria had grown accustomed to, but sharp, discordant strikes that set his teeth on edge.

The creature’s massive form blocked most of Estaria’s view as he moved to the edge of the outcropping. His tail continued its agitated sweeping, but now it seemed more defensive than angry, as if trying to keep Estaria back from some unseen threat.

A cool breeze swept up from the valley, carrying the mingled scents of earth and growing things. But there was something else in the wind - a metallic tang that reminded Estaria of approaching storms. He watched as Sentinel’s wooden hide rippled in response to the scent, plates shifting and overlapping like armor being tested.

The sun touched the horizon, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges. Sentinel’s growls subsided into a series of clicking sounds, his tail movements becoming more measured. But the tension remained in his massive frame, visible in the way his claws remained half-extended, ready to strike.

Estaria stepped closer, careful to telegraph his movements. When Sentinel didn’t object, he placed a hand on the creature’s flank. The wooden hide felt warmer than usual, thrumming with what might have been anxiety or anger.

“I’m not trying to upset you,” Estaria said softly. “But I can’t help if I don’t understand what we’re facing.”

Sentinel’s head turned toward him, yellow eyes studying his face. The creature’s tail stilled, then swept once in a slow arc. His claws tapped out a pattern - three quick strikes, a pause, then two more. It meant something, Estaria was certain, but the message remained frustratingly out of reach.

The crystalline rock caught the last rays of sunlight, sending prismatic reflections dancing across the outcropping. Estaria turned it over in his hands, feeling its smooth facets and sharp edges. The same rock that had momentarily blinded him now felt cool and substantial against his palm, its weight reassuring.

His mind wandered back to that first encounter in the forest, replaying the shadowy creature’s fluid movements. Every time Sentinel had lunged for it, the creature had seemed to flow around the attack like smoke. Even when those massive claws should have connected, they’d passed through as if striking at nothing more than darkness itself.

“The way it moved,” Estaria said, holding the crystal up to catch the light. “It wasn’t natural. When you tried to bite it, your teeth couldn’t find purchase. Almost like…” He paused, arranging his thoughts. “Almost like it wasn’t fully there.”

The dying sunlight split through the crystal, casting rainbow patterns across Sentinel’s wooden hide. The creature’s yellow eyes tracked the moving lights with unusual intensity.

“But light affects shadows,” Estaria continued, turning the crystal to create different patterns. “If we could reveal its true form, make it solid…” He let the thought trail off, looking up at his companion.

Sentinel stood motionless, his usual restless movements completely stilled. Those alien eyes fixed on Estaria with an intensity that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The creature’s tail, normally in constant motion, hung perfectly still.

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the whisper of wind across the outcropping. Estaria held his breath, watching Sentinel’s face for any sign of understanding or dismissal.

Finally, deliberately, Sentinel’s tail swept once from left to right and back again.

Relief flooded through Estaria. After weeks of traveling together, he’d learned to interpret some of Sentinel’s more common gestures. That particular tail movement, he was almost certain, meant “yes.”

Dawn crept over the mountain outcropping, painting the sky in soft pinks and golds. Estaria had slept fitfully, his dreams filled with shifting shadows and crystalline light. When he woke, Sentinel already stood at attention, yellow eyes fixed on the path leading back down into the forest’s depths.

The creature’s tail swept in a familiar “follow me” gesture, but Estaria remained seated on his bedroll.

“Wait,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. “We need to think this through.”

Sentinel turned, head tilted in a questioning angle. His claws clicked against the stone as he padded closer.

“Down there,” Estaria gestured toward the forest canopy below, “it’s so dim we can barely see. If one of those shadow creatures attacks again, we’ll be at a disadvantage.”

The morning light caught a nearby crystal vein in the rock, sending prismatic patterns dancing across Sentinel’s wooden hide. Estaria reached out, catching some of the reflected light in his palm.

“See? Light makes shadows solid, gives them form. But we need something we can carry with us.”

Sentinel’s tail swished back and forth, then he lowered his massive form to the ground beside Estaria. The gesture felt deliberate, like a teacher settling in for a lesson.

Estaria pulled out his water flask, holding it up to catch the sunlight. The metal surface reflected weakly, creating only a dull gleam.

“Not bright enough,” he muttered, setting it aside. He dug through his pack, pulling out various items - a few copper coins, the buckle from his belt. Each caught the light differently, but none produced the intense reflection they’d need to affect the shadow creature, by Estaria’s estimation.

Sentinel watched with apparent interest, yellow eyes tracking each object as Estaria tested it. His tail tapped rhythmically against the stone, neither approving nor dismissing.

“The crystals in the rock face work perfectly,” Estaria said, running his hand along a crystalline vein. “But we can’t exactly carry the mountain with us.”

He attempted to chip away a piece of the crystal, but it remained stubbornly embedded in the surrounding stone. His knife blade skittered off the surface, leaving not even a scratch.

Sentinel rose suddenly, moving to the edge of the outcropping. His claws dug into the rock face, and with a grinding sound, he wrenched free a chunk of stone with crystal veins running through it. The piece was nearly as large as Estaria’s torso.

“That’s… not quite what I meant,” Estaria said, eyeing the unwieldy boulder. “We need something portable. Something I could hold in one hand while defending myself with the other.”

The creature dropped the boulder with a thud that echoed off the mountainside. His tail swept in what Estaria had come to recognize as a gesture of frustration.

They spent the next hour testing different combinations - holding smaller rocks at various angles, trying to create a network of reflections using multiple surfaces, even attempting to fashion a crude lens from water trapped in a curved leaf. Nothing produced the intense, focused light they needed.

Sentinel grew increasingly restless as the morning wore on. His tail movements became sharp and agitated, and his claws left deep grooves in the stone where he paced.

“I know,” Estaria sighed, letting another failed attempt drop to the ground. “We’re wasting daylight. But rushing back into the forest unprepared won’t help either.”

He looked out over the canopy below, watching the leaf-winged creatures dance through patches of sunlight. Their translucent bodies caught and scattered the light, creating brief, brilliant flashes.

“Everything we’ve tried is either too weak to make a difference,” he gestured at his pile of discarded items, “or too heavy to be practical.” He kicked the crystal-laden boulder, stubbing his toe and cursing under his breath.

Sentinel’s tail swept once in agreement. The creature’s yellow eyes fixed on the horizon, where clouds were beginning to gather. The silent message was clear - they needed to move on, ready or not.

Estaria packed away his scattered belongings, mind still turning over the problem. The solution felt tantalizingly close, like a word on the tip of his tongue. But as he shouldered his pack and turned to follow Sentinel back toward the forest path, he had to admit defeat - at least for now.

The morning’s exercise hadn’t been entirely futile though. They understood the principle, even if they hadn’t found a practical application. Knowledge, Estaria reminded himself, was its own kind of preparation.

Over the next few nights, Estaria and Sentinel tested different approaches to their shadow creature problem. The forest canopy stretched dense and thick above them, filtering the already dim moonlight into little more than a suggestion of illumination. Even during the day, only scattered beams penetrated the leafy ceiling.

Estaria gathered fallen branches while Sentinel directed him with precise tail movements toward specific types of wood. The creature’s knowledge of the forest proved invaluable – some woods burned longer, others brighter, and a few produced unusual colored flames that caught Estaria’s attention.

“What about this one?” Estaria held up a pale branch with silvery bark.

Sentinel’s tail swept in approval. His claws tapped against a nearby trunk, stripping away strips of fibrous bark that could serve as binding.

They experimented with different wrappings for the torch heads. Some of the forest’s unusual plants yielded sticky resins that burned with surprising intensity. Others smoldered more than blazed, producing thick smoke that made Estaria’s eyes water.

“The flame needs to be stronger,” Estaria muttered, watching yet another torch sputter and dim. He’d managed to create several that burned steadily, but the light they cast seemed weak.

Sentinel observed each attempt with those unblinking yellow eyes, occasionally offering materials Estaria hadn’t considered. A thick, waxy leaf that burned for nearly an hour. Dried fungus that caught flame easily and helped spread it to the main torch head. Each contribution improved their designs incrementally.

As darkness fell on their third night of experimentation, Estaria had assembled a small collection of torches. None felt quite adequate, but they represented the best options they’d discovered. He laid them out on a fallen log, studying the different combinations of materials.

“We won’t know if they’re strong enough until we face that thing again,” he said, running his fingers along the smooth bark of his latest creation. “And I’m not exactly eager for that reunion.”

Sentinel’s tail swept in agreement. The creature had remained notably more alert during their nighttime experiments, yellow eyes constantly scanning the shadows between trees. His wooden hide creaked softly as he shifted position, keeping Estaria within easy reach.

The torches cast dancing shadows on the surrounding vegetation. Estaria watched them move, remembering how the shadow creature had flowed like liquid darkness. Would these small flames be enough to give it solid form? How close would he need to get for the light to take effect?

“At least we’re better prepared than before,” Estaria said, selecting the most promising torch for his pack. He stored several others in a makeshift carrier Sentinel had helped him weave from flexible vines. “Though I hope we never need to find out if they work.”