We were eating the pig, and even though it was cooked normally, normal was more than I'd ever had here.
My body screamed with every bite I took—not from hunger, but from the accumulated damage I was carrying.
Each time my muscles and tendons stretched and relaxed, it felt like I was watching myself burn from a distance. Like the pain wasn't even mine anymore—just something happening to a body I was trapped inside. Every wound reminded me of the promises I'd made. Not just to my mother… but to Kaid too.
I didn't understand it.
Was life only ever meant to be a struggle?
And if that was true—what was the point of living at all?
I wanted to know.
I wanted to understand.
But no matter how hard I tried to think past it, pain drowned everything else out. That was all there was.
It hurt.
I was tired.
It had been months since I'd been dragged into this place, and I'd already come terrifyingly close to death more times than I could count. Somehow—against all reason—I kept clawing my way back to life.
But each time I did, it felt like it took more out of me than the last.
"Asher," Trace said softly, sitting beside me as Sare remained across the fire.
I snapped back to reality. "Yes?" My voice came out quiet—mellow—as I stared into the flames reflected in my empty gray eyes.
"We all have our reasons for wanting to get out," she continued, "for wanting to survive."
I kept staring at the fire, listening to her words without really hearing them. I didn't know why, but I felt alone—truly alone—even though Sare and Trace were right there with me. It was like standing in the dark while others watched from the edge of the light.
"Why are you fighting, Asher?" Trace asked. "I'm just curious about your motives. You push yourself so hard."
She paused. "I can tell you can barely eat. So why are you being so stubborn?"
Her tone wasn't accusing. If anything, it was understanding.
"I'm not judging," she added. "I am the same way. But it's rare to meet people like us. So I have to ask—what's your reason? What's your conviction?"
I stared into the fire, watching the sparks crack and scatter, waiting as if it might answer for me. I already knew it wouldn't.
I didn't move.
A faint smirk touched my lips—not one born of humor, but of confusion. Of something vast and hollow.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I couldn't tell you."
Before all of this, I had nothing. I had no one. It was like I didn't exist at all—just a soul trapped inside an empty shell, with nowhere to go.
"Honestly… I was hoping I'd die earlier," I admitted. "Before the school. Before the Hallow."
The words felt strange leaving my mouth, but they were true.
"But I couldn't. It was like I was tangled in this thing we call life—and instead of letting go, it just kept pulling tighter."
I swallowed.
"It's only gotten harder. I still have nothing. I'm still empty."
I glanced at the fire again. "The only difference is now I'm fighting to stay alive… just to keep the misery going."
I let out a quiet breath.
"Right now, I'm just walking through a storm—blind."
Trace looked at me, her bright blue eyes glistening in the firelight.
"That's not an answer," she said. "You need something. Whether it's family, friends—hell, even something as petty as revenge."
I met her gaze. "I know," I said quietly. "But it isn't something I can answer right now. In a way… I'm still looking."
I shifted my attention between them. "What about you two? Why do you fight? Why get stronger? Why survive?"
Sare looked up for the first time, as if she'd only just fully joined the conversation.
When she spoke, her voice was soft—but there was more weight behind it than a shout.
"I'm surviving to change the way things are going," she said. "That's why I can't die."
I stared at her, blankly. The words were simple, but they carried something deeper—something settled. I didn't fully understand it, but it told me everything I needed to know about her.
Then Trace spoke.
"I fight," she said, "so I can raise the expectations of what our world once had."
I looked between them.
They had goals. Real ones. Heavy ones.
I exhaled. "Then I guess… for now, I'm fighting because I don't want to die."
The words felt hollow even as I said them.
Trace's expression hardened. She stood abruptly, letting out a sharp breath before turning away.
"Guess she's done eating," I muttered, forcing a scoff that didn't quite land.
Across the fire, Sare watched me for a moment longer before speaking again.
"You don't need a grand goal to want to live," she said gently. "But you should want to live for yourself."
Her blindfold tilted slightly in my direction.
"A promise," she continued. "Or an obligation. Any reason like that—those don't feel like yours."
"Well… for now, we need to stop talking about why we're here and focus on staying alive," I said, breaking the silence. "What's the move?"
"Keep going," I called down the hall, my voice low but urgent. "Trace—we need you."
There was a pause. Then footsteps.
"What do you want?" she asked, sitting a short distance away from me, her back straight, her tone guarded. She didn't look at me.
Sare folded her hands in her lap. "We need to decide our next course of action."
Trace exhaled through her nose. "We stay here for a bit. Not long—but long enough for Asher to heal."
"I'm fine," I said immediately, too quickly. "We should move now. Cover ground, then circle back if we have to. The sooner we reach the city, the safer we'll be."
Trace turned on me, eyes sharp. "It's not safer," she snapped. "Not when you can barely stand."
"I can move," I said, clenching my jaw. "And if something shows up, I can fight."
"And if it doesn't come alone?" she shot back. "If you trip. If your shadow is delayed. If you hesitate."
I opened my mouth, but Sare was already looking at me.
"She's right," Sare said quietly. "When we were getting food, you were on the ground."
"I wasn't helpless," I said, the words coming out rougher than I meant. "My shadow—"
"—helped," Sare cut in, her tone still calm, but unyielding. "And what if there had been two monsters instead of one?"
She leaned forward slightly. "What if there are three next time?"
The fire popped, sending sparks into the air.
"It would have killed you," she said. "You said you don't want to die."
The words hit harder than any accusation.
Trace took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. "I have another idea."
She looked between us. "Sare and I scout during the day. Carefully. We map the area, mark threats, and find the safest route forward."
Her gaze locked onto mine. "You stay here and recover."
My stomach tightened.
"That way," she continued, "when we move, we aren't guessing. We aren't gambling your life on incomplete information."
Damn it.
I hated how much sense it made. I hated more that I couldn't argue against it.
Sare considered it for a long moment, then nodded. "That's fair," she said. "Given our condition… it's probably our best option."
I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers, feeling the ache flare again—reminding me why they were right.
Being left behind didn't feel like rest.
It felt like being told, without anyone saying it out loud, that I wasn't ready to keep up.