Umbrahorn rides rough and dirty. So I have to hold on tight with a rope cord and harness, attached to a leather fin strap on the hammerhead’s spine — custom-made by Erot himself. I don’t dare to ask about his past with Umbrahorn considering how distraught the poor man is. But, once we get far enough away from the farm, I regret not pestering the man. So many questions remain lingering. And now I’m riding atop this free spirit as it zips through the earth, rumbling and reveling in the taste of new land.


    It is hard to stay balanced at first. Yet, I find that the less I try, the better I do — stupid as that might sound. Letting go of the harness and trusting in the strength of my legs works better than desperately holding on and getting thrashed about every turn.


    By the time we pass the village, I feel like a pro. Riding comes naturally to me. It''s the one thing I’ve been ‘talented’ at.


    The sun is rising when Takemeadow comes into view. I have not slept yet and my body is starting to feel it. When we ride around the lake and the high walls of Takemeadow, I feel a deep sorrow. These people are innocent. They don’t deserve the horrors that they are about to face.


    We follow the river downstream until we end up back near the Red Cherry Forest I entered so long ago.


    “The scent is taking you this far out?” I ask Umbrahorn. He rumbles something beneath me, before realizing that I can’t hear him through the movement of dirt and golden meadow grass.


    He opts to peak his head out: “It goes farther Northeast. We still have a long way to go.”


    I nod, then lean back, allowing the harness to go taut as I massage my burning shoulders. This is still quite the workout.


    Well, anything’s better than whatever evil training plan Sorina has cooked up for me. Thinking about her sends a pang of guilt clawing its greedy little way into my stomach. I probably should’ve told her of my plans. But… it''s better if I go about this alone. Less risk.


    At the entrance of the forest, I tell Umbrahorn to stop. Although the day has just begun, I need some modicum of sleep to continue. So, I find a nice patch of grass, cover myself in some moss, and sleep right next to the road with the wooden hammerhead watching as a reluctant sentinel over me. I fear it might run, so I keep the harness on.


    Erot told me that the rope cord itself is magically imbued with some binding properties: “Got the material from a Runic Forger. Won’t break easy.. And if this toothy bastard tries anything funny, he’s ripe for a painful punishment.”


    Not that I suspected Umbrahorn would do much. He seems too enamored by his newfound freedom — reduced to a childlike state of wonder, black coal eyes glazing over the red canopy of the forest, the golden bars of sunlight that show through the leaves, the caressing sway of the wind and its feeling upon the spirit. He whoops and yips like a dog.


    It takes a while for me to find any peace.


    …


    “Raiten!” someone whispers. I stir — refuse to open my eyes. I feel like I just closed them. “Raiten! Wake up!” the same voice hisses. I groan and turn my back, burying my head between my knees to bathe my vision in darkness.


    A finger touches my shoulder.


    My eyes flare open and I raise myself upon my elbows, throwing my right leg up for a grounded axe kick. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The leg is caught and I am soon hanging upside down, hair obscuring my vision. I tug it back to find Sorina staring at me.


    “I told you to wake up Raiten,” Umbrahorn groans from the side. One of his eyes is closed — cut through with some blade. His face is raked with scarring blows.


    “Sorina,” I say simply. The blood is going to my head. She holds me high with one hand clawed around my shin. Impeccable strength. Annoying strength.


    “So,” she begins, voice level at first. That scares me. “Can you even begin to imagine how angry I am?”


    I chuckle lightly. “A little—”


    She tosses me against the tree. I fling against the stump, chest caving, breath stolen. Falling to the ground with a thump, I wince in pain. Something jolts through my bones. Some rock under my elbow. It makes the pain tingle in a lingering way. I roll and roll, desperate to move and focus on anything else.


    “Umbrahorn?” I ask, trying to distract myself.


    “What?” the shark replies.


    “You’re a lousy sentinel.”


    “Raiten, Great Spirits are—”


    “Oooh Raiten look at me, I’m a Great Spirit and I just got my ass kicked by a human being so I’m going to say something stupid like ‘Great Spirits are not meant for sentinel watching’. That’s you,” I mock. Somehow, that does the trick of undoing my pain. And it also makes me feel marginally better. I stand and dust myself off, looking at Umbrahorn. For once, the shark doesn’t rise to the bait. He just sits there, halfway in the ground, staring with some dark fury at me.


    Sorina levels the same look at me.


    I sigh.


    …


    “You’re an idiot,” Sorina mutters as I set the rope cord straight. It''s the first thing she’s said after demanding that I explain my absence. Throughout my entire story, she remained blank-faced. Sharp, emerald eyes staring straight through me.


    “How so?” I mutter. I try reaching close to Umbrahorn’s fin to fix the leather strap, but he slaps one of my hands away. It is a childish act. I reciprocate in kind by slapping his fin. He grins. At least he’s back in his usual spirits. Apparently, Sorina got the jump on him, as he so loudly complained to me after my mocking tirade. However, he was already healing up.


    “You didn’t think to say goodbye to me? Even though you were planning on leaving?” she asks. She sounds genuinely hurt.


    I look away. “I — I wanted it to be quick. Painless.”


    “Piss off. I’m not some spurned lover, as much as the village might believe that. I would’ve understood Raiten. What do you think I would do if I had the chance to avenge my husband? I’d be antsy to get my vengeance too.”


    “It''s… not as simple as that,” I mutter. She clasps her hand on my shoulder.


    “Then what is it?”


    “I felt bad,” I say. “I thought it was selfish, my leaving. And, to be honest, I was right. I can’t leave you, leave Erot, leave Dandy like this. Not when I can do something about it. You lot have done right by me without asking anything in return. It''s about time I return the favor.”


    “Might I remind you that she tried killing us!” Umbrahorn objects.


    “That was a millenia ago Umbrahorn. Forget about it. She’s a real close acquaintance now,” I say. Her face betrays a warm smile. “Hells, she might even become your friend throughout this journey —”


    “She’s not coming with us!” Umbrahorn says.


    “You don’t really have a choice, lesser spirit,” Sorina says, yawning. Then, she flips out one of her daggers. “Unless you want to go for round three?”


    “You—you! Just you wait, you bitch. Once I attain completion, the first insignificant ant I’m slaughtering is you!” Umbrahorn rages.


    Sorina just laughs.