Serpent Game: Slave to the Shadows vol. 1 (Now on Kindle!)

Chapter 2 | Home Away From Home

Night turned to day.

Clouds still occupied the sky, dispelled into small clusters. These same clusters shadowed the forest as far as the naked eye could ever hope to encompass. As winds shifted, storm clouds began shadowing the area. A looming reminder every stubborn step of the way.

The storms in this region meant catastrophic winds and rain which could resurrect ancient riverbeds. Gyone was in no mood to gamble against a deck loaded against him.

He had trekked miles away by this point. Surely, he should stumble upon some sort of shelter soon. Despite his two weeks of slumber, he felt fatigue linger upon his aching bones. He faintly pieced together old memories of his surroundings, culled to life with every step. How bristling these forests used to be, how lively the air felt to breathe.

Gyone received no such embraces. Something was amiss.

If houses and stables were spotted alike, further inspection only highlighted the rust and age this area had fallen victim to. One part of his mind longed for his old home buried within these trees somewhere, but he knew all too well he would be returning to an empty manor, overcome by the trees.

Gyone was keen on numbing his senses during long treks. His ability to mute pain had been bludgeoned into his being over so many years; this fatigue wasn't shit. Certainly, Gyone was fearless, but by no means was he flawless in execution. He has bled his fair share of blood over stupid mistakes. And right now, more than ever, it was his only hope.

Time passed sluggishly as Gyone's travels continued. Along the way, he carefully collected fruits from the lowest of stockpiles littered through wild bramble. But as much as he indulged, he never fed his hunger or granted himself any energy he so desperately needed. Nevertheless, he ate again and again.

Gyone's body began to fail him.

His steps chugged along. However, this was not to last as his legs began to crumple. The hunter toppled, caught a kneel on hand and knee. He gasped for air like it was being stolen from his lungs.

No mercy on this soul. This breath did not belong here.

Where here was, Gyone had forgotten. He looked to his right, off to a path which yawned into an endless oak thicket. To his left produced nothing but a blurry, inky green and black. He swore to fight on, head cocked on borrowed time. He then collapsed.

So much for willpower.

It was here in the eye of the storm where he laid until he awoke to the late afternoon sky. Still, the storm ensnared further. They were now more concentrated, with many more spanning a great distance onward.

He stood in haste and continued to venture forward knowing he would freeze to death in the storm at night. This, atop his cold sweat, would surely result in hypothermia.

The crippled hunter was gifted some slight relief: man-made light further down the road. Civilization. Finally, after trekking so long, his efforts were looking to pay off soon.

Rationale spoke for his own sake; he sat down to relax his withered being atop a moss-coated rock. Gyone let out a breath and parted the grass a cautious smile.

The evening was near.

The sun began its descent behind the Flamboro Mountains ahead so that Gyone was only receiving the last blink before nightfall. Time was not an ally to the stricken gun-for-hire; but rebel he did so well.

After a brief rest, Gyone stretched and stood to venture on. He feared he were playing the role of a target and harbored deeply-seeded doubts that his gift of life was not going to go uncontested. It was a thought that had been brooding while he sat; as the nomads would warn, Licentia feeds on lethargy. Don't let her catch you napping.