The Strength to Go On | Write to Rank 2023

Orange Belt | Get out of there!

Golden light glistened behind the leaves. Ilen swallowed, glancing over his shoulder. His mentor was nowhere to be seen, as expected. Only the eerie dimness of dusk and the distant screeches of injured beasts greeted him. He knew his mentor was out there, somewhere nearby, but still, the lack of presence only made the hair rise on his arms.

He took a deep breath and cautiously parted the leaves, ducking his head inside.

It must have been a nest.

There were branches, twigs, moss and leaves shoved into all nooks and crannies amongst the roots, flattened down as if one of the beasts had rested there for months. It smelled like it, too. He wrinkled his nose, swiveling his head to the right. Beside the nest was the source of light, sat gently on what looked to be a small shrine or a pedestal, though he wasn't exactly sure what it was.

Ilen let the leaves fall behind him. The faint, filtering sunlight behind him vanished instantly, and the roots creaked as he crossed the nest and knelt beside the object. It was the size of a large grapefruit, with four, spindly legs reminiscent of a spider's. Wide rivulets ran down its back and sides—the source of the gentle golden glow.

It didn't move when he picked it up. Actually, it was cold to the touch and somewhat dusty, like it hadn't moved in a long time.

This must be what his mentor wanted him to find, what the whole retrieval unit was after.

He tucked it under his armpit and stood, taking one more look around the nest. There was a solemn feeling in his chest. This was one of the beast's homes. And here he was, pillaging it, and it was all just for... whatever this was.

He patted the glowing spider. "You must be something special, huh?"

"Ilen! Get out of there!"

His mentor's voice startled him back to reality, and he froze, his hand hovering in place. There was a silence afterwards, broken only by the occasional cry, that made him wonder if he was imagining things. Then the whole nest shuddered to the side as a great weight landed on the roots, nearly throwing him into the pedestal. He didn't spin in time to see the beast barge in through the leaves until the world went upside-down and air exploded from his lungs.

He gasped desperately as pain bloomed through his back, the spider skidding away.

And then there was a face in front of his, hot breath against his skin and a deep, baritone growl rumbling not just his bones but the entire nest. It leaned heavily onto him, just enough for its claws to scrape down his chest and squeeze out the last of the air in his lungs.

Ilen went deathly still, staring in wide-eyed terror at the beast that stood atop of him.

Their eyes locked.

It had gold eyes, the same, glistening hue as the spider. Not only that, but amongst its midnight-black fur, stripes of golden powder framed its muzzle and outlined its jawline like warpaint. It was beautiful, yet terrifying, and before he could figure out how a beast without opposable thumbs was able to apply it so symmetrically, his mentor cursed somewhere beyond the leaves and the roots shuddered once more.

It was hardly a whisper, but it was enough to remind Ilen's limbs that they could move.

It seemed to remind the beast that, too, as when he arched his back, bunching his muscles beneath him to kick it in the soft part of its stomach like his mentor always told him to, it snapped its jaws in front of his face—a warning—and leapt off. It grabbed the spider and, without a spare glance toward him, barged back out into the mangrove.

Ilen collapsed back to the ground, gasping in a deep breath. It expanded his chest just enough to make the claw marks twinge. He pressed a hand to them. Blood immediately warmed his fingers.

Did he just... almost die?

He lifted his fingers to his face. Red coated them, and for some reason, they were shaking. His eyes hyper focused on that. He didn't feel that scared, right? But yet, when he tried to sit up, it hit him suddenly.

His stomach went cold. His muscles failed him, and he found himself on his side, gasping for air.

Just its weight had been enough to puncture his skin and leave his ribs aching. If it had wanted to, it could have ripped into his neck. Clawed through his chest. Eaten him like breakfast.

But it didn't.

He grasped desperately to that thought in an effort to pull himself together when the leaves rustled and the tall frame of his mentor emerged with thudding footsteps.