Once, Ssserakis took me to a mountaintop. In Ovaeris, the air grows thin as you ascend, but in the Other World there's no difference, regardless of altitude. We stood on that mountain, Ssserakis appearing to me as formless shade, and watched a migration of monsters. I thought myself knowledgeable of the denizens of that world, I had read the Encyclopaedia Otheria cover to cover on more than one occasion, and even added some of my own notes, but there were things I saw there I could not name. Giant creatures with front legs larger than the rear, they glowed red from within as though some fire burned inside of them and only their purpling flesh stopped it from spilling out and setting the world ablaze. They carried smaller beasts on their backs, creatures of half a dozen limbs all ending in sharpened blades of carapace. There was a symbiosis there, the larger creatures plodding along, forever moving forward, while the smaller ones leapt down to hunt prey where they found it, carrying food back to the larger ones after they had torn it to shreds.
But it was not the ground Ssserakis wanted me to see. The horror told me to look, instead, to the featureless sky and there I saw something wondrous: a serpent so long I couldn't guess at its true size, winding its way through the sky. Its body shimmered between green and blue hues even in the grey light of the Other World, and thousands of spines stretched out across its body. It had no wings to carry it and I couldn't fathom how it flew, but it moved in such a way I found myself mesmerised by the undulations. Ssserakis told me its name was Hyrenaak, the Landless, and not once in the eternity it had been alive had it touched the ground. I watched it dive towards the migration and snatch one of the giants from its path, crushing it between jaws that made it look tiny. Molten flame gushed out over the serpent's teeth, dropping fire toward the ground as it wove its way higher into the sky. The six-legged creatures that had been riding on the giant fled its carcass before the serpent swallowed it down, they scurried onto Hyrenaak's body, spreading out over the length and falling still. That was when I noticed that what I had taken for spines, were actually thousands of those little blade-legged monsters, all crowding on the back of something that dwarfed them.
Hyrenaak flew past us and I saw it has dozens of eyes on each side of its head, each of them a twisting mass of madness. Yet it watched us. I'm not sure how I knew it, but it watched us as it passed and there was recognition. One king to another. King is the wrong word, but I have since discovered that the Other World is ruled, just as ours is, by individuals. Monsters like Hyrenaak, horrors like Ssserakis, and others too. I have also discovered that they war endlessly amongst themselves but are united in their hatred of both the Rand and the Djinn. A worthy cause to unite for.
As the weeks wore on, Hardt started to change my training. He would still watch over me while I performed the exercises to strengthen my body, but afterwards he would teach me to move. He insisted much of the art of pugilism was based on staying light on your feet, stepping quickly and keeping your opponent in front of you. We would adopt a stance with our hands held up in front of us, and he would dodge left and right, moving around me. My job was to keep up with him. You might not think it so difficult, considering he is the size of small tree, but Hardt has always been swift. More than once I ended up with crossed legs, pitching onto the needly floor of the forest. Trust me when I tell you, an arse full of needles hurts.
Tamura laughed at us from time to time. It made Hardt angry. Tamura's teachings seemed completely at odds with Hardt's. Where Hardt taught strength, Tamura taught leverage. Where Hardt taught movement, Tamura taught stillness. My mind was a whirl with the conflicting teachings. It's fair to say that I was foolish trying to learn two different styles of combat at once. I have ever been a poor student and I excelled at neither, though Hardt insisted I was making fair progress all things considered. Tamura just laughed and said even mountains were once rocks.
As the cold seeped away, replaced by new warmth from the sun, I felt stronger than I had ever been. I had put on weight and much of it was muscle, and the old Pit rags we all still wore were barely large enough to cover me. Tamura had fashioned us all cloaks made of sewn animal hides, but it was clear I would need new clothing and soon. I washed regularly, having found a few streams and pools within the forest, and Hardt actually told me I looked quite pretty underneath all the grime and filth. I'm not too proud to admit I took solace at the compliment. I have never been a vain woman, but after ageing a decade in a matter of minutes and having my face quite horribly scarred it was nice to know I had retained at least some of my looks. My hair was a mess, growing at odd lengths. It was a reminder of Josef, that he had cut my hair so short to try to mask my gender down in the Pit.
Times were hard. The weather was cold, and our provisions were scarce. Yet I found myself smiling and laughing a lot during our time in that forest. Maybe it was the relief of being able to see the sky after so long underground. Maybe it was because of Hardt's good nature and Tamura's wit. Maybe it was because we didn't know what was coming. I count our time there as a happy one, and I think it may be the longest I have ever gone without making a mistake. Unfortunately, our time in the Forest of Ten couldn't last. As we drew close to its eastern border we were found.
Chapter 5
Josef
I'm more of an outcast than I've ever been. The overseer isn't pleased with me. I failed to bring back Eska. I lost my Source. I almost died. He called me useless and threw me back to the Pit. The way he looked at me, like I was nothing. It was horrible. It was even worse when he turned his back, waved for the soldiers to drag me away.
I'm mostly healed, I think. I still can't speak. When I try nothing comes out but a painful croak. I think perhaps the overseer is right. I am useless. Not even Deko or the foremen want me. I've been assigned to no team. Lessa hasn't come to put me back to work. I think I'm glad about that. No more beatings for failing to meet the digging quota on time. No more being rudely awakened by a kick to the ribs. No more mattering to anyone. They all just ignore me. The other scabs are in on it too. Those that are left.
I wonder if Eska had any idea what she was doing when she started that riot over the food. Did she know how many lives would be lost? Did she care? Somehow, I doubt it. She always was a heartless bitch. That's not fair of me. But I'm not going to scribble it out. Not this time.
The Pit almost feels empty. There's so much space. I can go a full day without seeing anyone, without them seeing me. Except when it's time to eat. Deko and his thugs still hoard the food. Even though there's fewer people down here, we still go hungry. We still wear rags while they have fresh clothes and boots. Scabs still dig. Scabs still fight in the arena over nothing at all. For all the anger Eska caused, for all the pain and death she brought down upon this place, nothing has changed. Except she's gone. And I'm still here.
I dreamt about them catching her last night. I saw her thrown into a dark pit where hungry wolves were waiting to tear her apart. I watched it happen, stood by and did nothing as my only friend was savaged by teeth and claws. I watched her die and... I won't write it. I won't write what I felt. I won't admit to it. What does that mean? I think maybe I deserve to be here. And I think she deserves to be here as well. After all the things we've done, we both deserve the punishment.