[Story] Kun-Lai Summit

The arrow flew past the mountain goat’s horns, and the animal uttered an indignant bleat before bounding further up the snowy ridge. Sath’alor took a few moments to understand what his eyes had seen. He had missed. How could he have missed? It was a clear shot, with not much wind. A light snow was falling, but that didn’t affect his sight of the animal, which had now moved out of sight somewhere on the rocky mountainside. He hadn’t just been a few inches off, either. He’d completely missed! Frowning, he looked down at his bow to inspect it. The sinew was new and tight — in fact he’d replaced it recently here in these mountains. He ran his hand along the limbs of the bow to ensure they were straight and properly aligned. Sath’alor couldn’t imagine how they could have become warped, and upon checking they looked all right.

Maybe he was just tired. These past few weeks, he hadn’t felt himself. Part of this were the strange dreams that came every night — though usually he couldn’t remember the specifics, he could recall the strange black nothingness that always loomed on the horizon, or seeping from nearby shadows. In his dream, the sight of it unsettled him so that it was the only detail he could remember — and one that was consistent across all of them.

He thought often of his family, and of course of Kestrae. He did his best not to, but since speaking with the girl at the springs, they had been on his mind more of late. The last contact he had with any of them had been at the end of summer, when he sent his father the brief note telling him not to worry. And they hadn’t, had they? There had been no one searching for him, not at any of the places he’d been. Of course, he did his best to stay un-noticed, but if they were looking he would probably have heard something. He remembered that clear night in Zul’drak, where he had first seen Ru’anthar and the cat said something that intrigued and frightened him at the same time. What is real, the ethereal cat had asked. Are you real? He hadn’t had an answer then, nor did he now. Maybe he wasn’t real, maybe he had died already on that strange other world and now lived in a place in between, where no one could see him. He thought of writing a letter; if someone wrote back then he would have proof that he was really here. But he couldn’t write to Kestrae, not now. And his family would only be upset for staying away so long, for not telling them where he was. He had no good explanation for that either, other than it was easier to stay away the longer he had been gone. Maybe he could write to the girl at the mountain temple, but he highly suspected that she wasn’t real either.

At his side, Clementine raised her muzzle to sniff at the air. She made sounds, had a scent, and was warm when he lay down to sleep at night. At least Sath’alor was quite certain that the silver tiger was real.