He stood there frozen in shock at the sight before him. The fire raged around him. The burning heat did nothing to settle the fire within himself. Spiraling upwards towards the fresh air as the trees burned as fuel, burning away any trace of them that was left.

Ravin had been gone only for a moment. To scout the forest ahead for the lake, and a spot to rest for the night. But it was not enough. They waited in the shadows, watching for the party to drop their guard. Then they attacked. Igniting the remains to draw out the stragglers and that was it.

He stood before what was left. Too late to stop it. Too late to save them.

Ravin glared into the blazes, a fire settling in his eyes that could burn the world. The embers were entwined with his heart, beating on their own accord.

Screaming for vengeance for the fallen, a proposition he was tempted to take.

A desperate cry crackled in the flames. A voice sang in pain as the blood was drained from their body.

Snapping out of his rage, Ravin stared at the flame’s gift. Something he had been blessed to see twice within his lifetime. To see it once was a miracle.

A vision from another time, Ravin thought, or one that has yet to pass. He hoped for the latter, but he knew the flames were never that kind. The flames had a mind of their own and you would have to be an idiot to ignore the call.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The fire began to dissipate as quickly as it had arrived. The vision came to an end. In its wake, the ashes left behind a clue.

Ravin crouched, examining the charred earth. Hidden by the ashes was the reminiscence of an animal’s tracks. Their form was left unrecognizable by the destruction surrounding them. The only thing that remained was the claw marks in the dirt.

Their shape struck a chord within him. The size reminded him of something peculiar, something that had inspired its name.

Claw Lake.

The lake he had been trying to find was his new destination. It was so close to Ravin’s current location. What do you know, maybe fire can be good for something. If it is true, then there was no time to lose, making haste was the only hope of getting there in time.

Ravin muttered under his breath as he turned away, dashing into the forest with the moon as his guide. His words faded into the wind, heard by no one but felt by all.

The forest became a blur around him, nothing distinguishable to the naked eye. The glimmering shine of the water of the lake gleamed through the darkness. A distant belt of laughter slowed Ravin’s pace. A slurred, out-of-tune song escaping into the night sky.

The singing buffoon danced around drunkenly, hiccupping through the lyrics. He yelped, tripping over his own feet as he spun to face his fellows sitting about the campfire. One laughed as his mate fell backward onto his rear end. The burly man slapped his knee in hysterics. The third member of their group watched the bane of his existence with annoyance clear as day on his face. He scoffed as the drunk popped back up, unsteadily on his feet, as if nothing had happened.

Dancing around the makeshift camp, oblivious to the world around him. The song poured out of his lungs like a river without a dam. The third turned to glare at the man.

“Shut up you idiot,” a seething voice broke the peace. The man in question smiled lopsidedly at him.

“Why? Therz nobudy ot here,” he slurred loudly. The third shushed him, receiving a pout in return.

“Why you ask, because no one is supposed to know we are here and your drunken arse is not helping in the slightest,” he said. The second fellow chuckled lightly.

“You know he has a point, Syrus. No one comes into these woods willingly,” The fellow argued. The third sighed.

“Let us not test our luck then,” the third replied reluctantly.

The second stood as the first stumbled and stuttered on his feet. He reached out, grabbing ahold of his fellows’ arms.

“Wo-aw there, bud. Come on, that’s it. Let’s go sit by the fire before you faceplant into it,” the second said, leading them away from the forest. Unaware of the stranger lurking in the shadows.

Ravin peaked out from behind the thick oak watching the duo take a seat. The campfire illuminated the pair and most of their camp. The basic needs for travel are all present, with nothing of luxury or comfort within the vicinity. The tent was old and used, frequently, he might add, from the wear and rips visible. There didn’t appear to be anyone loitering inside. Its size would only allow two people at best to fit within its walls, leaving a single person on watch.

A new and briskly made camp likely less than a day old. The ashes of freshly cut timer waffled into the air. They weren’t here to stay, that is for sure.

If Ravin was willing to bet on it, the stragglers would be leaving after dawn. No matter how willing he was to wait, the owner of the voice could not. He had wasted enough time already. A stay thought plagued his mind. Could he have been misled by the vision?

It was possible that he misread the signs, but there was something else. A feeling he can’t quite describe telling him to stay, to look deeper.

Trusting a feeling was going to get him caught, he thought bitterly. So would the withering flame.

The choice was out of his hands before he was aware there was one. A hushed whimper fell onto deaf ears, swept underneath the noise by the campfire. Ravin glanced to his left and then back to the men that hadn’t moved. Circling the outer edge of the camp proved to be as expected. That is until he found it.

This was anything but expected. His stomach curled at the sight.

A young boy leaned against a hollow trunk, his chin resting upon his chest as he slept. The light movement was the only indicator that the boy was alive. Ravin crept up behind the slumbering bith, staying out of his line of sight. A gentle hand felt the kid’s neck to find a weak pulse, unknowingly pressing against the harsh bruises lining his body.

A part of Ravin relaxed feeling the fluttering beat. Falling back onto his heels, Ravin wondered what was wrong with the bith. He had to have been blind not to see it.

The kid’s arms pulled against the ropes binding him to the tree. His shoulders tensed from the prolonged use. The pulsating pain numbed after he had lost feeling in his arms. The binds were too tight for the blood to circulate properly, leaving his fingers a mosaic shade of blue and purple.

The roped was saturated in crimson blood dripping onto the ground. Its copper scent invaded Ravin’s senses. Even amongst the darkness, it was easy to see the hastily wrapped wound upon the boy’s wrist. Covered in filthy rags in a lame attempt to stop the blood.

There was some good in the ropes. They provided the needed pressure the rags lacked. Otherwise, it's possible the arm would be a lost cause.

Then comes the hard part. The bindings needed to stay intact and removed in order to free the kid. To do that, he is going to have to be very careful.

Freeing the knife from within his boot and cutting through the bindings took longer than Ravin would like to admit. In one hand he held the boy's uninjured arm in case the kid started to tip forward and in the other hand-held the blade bested by the stubborn ropes. The sharp edge refused to fray the binds, its integrity twice that of the blades.

At this rate, dawn would arrive with them in the same place they started. The blade's uselessness prevailed as the forged metal became weak and dull. The weapon had already been in dire need of a water stone, but this was the final straw. Sheathing the dagger with disdain seemed to be the only smart decision he’d made that night.

What he was about to do carried more risk than anything he had ever done, but letting the kid die, Ravin couldn't let that happen. Never again.

With a flick of his wrist, the ropes shattered, burning to ashes where they stood. The nearly indestructible bindings fell prey to one of the foundations of the Earth. Its wavering heat vanished as soon as it began. Leaving nothing apart from the ashes and the smell of burnt copper in the air.

The unique and mildly horrifying scent could petrify the dead if it were any stronger. For now, it will terrify the living or the merely unconscious.

The boy groaned weakly as the smell invaded his nose. His brain pounded against his skull when he opened his eyes. Regretting the decision almost immediately despite the nocturnal light. Minutes passed by as he willed the pain to subside. The boy fought the pain to open his eyes to a foreboding sight. An involuntary gasp escaped his lips, freezing in place once he felt a presence behind him. The color drained from his face the longer his brain caught up to his body.

Ravin paused, watching the tense shoulders tremble, the hand in his loose grasp tightened in fear. He stopped untying the boy's arm when he felt him move. Leaning in his breath tickled the boy's ear, his words just as soft.

The kid stayed silent in anticipation of what the stranger had to say. Awaiting the likely threat to come. He flinched as the figure spoke.

"Be still, Little Bith. Save your strength. This will all be over soon." The stranger said, confusing the younger one. Be still? Why?

He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts when he noticed the fire. His mind decided it was a good time for him to remember why he was tied up in the first place. Everything went downhill from there.

The bindings fell to the ground the moment his mind began to spiral. The steel grip upon his shaking arms. Panic flooded the air as they descended on him. A callous hand covered his pleas. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing, caught within the phantom's grip.

Its darkened figure grasped his shoulders, shaking the boy. Using his body to block the light, the ghost lightly tapped the frozen cheek in his palm until the boy's distant gaze settled on him.

"Kid? Kid?! Come on we don't have time for this," Ravin said, hitting the boy a little harder than necessary. "Wake up."

The boy whimpered quietly as he began to focus. Rain's frustrated facade cracked seeing the fear in the boy's eyes. A look of pure, unbridled terror that should never have existed on such a young face.

That frustration boiled to anger the louder the commotion by the fire became. A surprised shout and the sound of weapons being drawn pushed Ravin over the edge.

"You, Bastard, get away from there."

Ravin turned to glare at them over his shoulder. His gaze softened looking back at the kid.

He swiftly dragged his boot across the ground, stirring the dirt up into the air. The cloud of dust hid the duo from view, buying them time.

The firm hand upon the boy's arm pulled him onto unsteady feet, never losing its hold. Pulling the kid along behind Ravin as he dashed into the forest.

Said kid stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up, his heart pounding in his ears. Every root and tumble did nothing against the strangers' hold. Not even as the stranger steered them off towards the left, off the beaten path.

The branches tore through the thin fabric of his shirt. Scratching any flesh within their reach as they burst through the wild bushes. The bith cried out, his shirt snagged by the thorny bushes. A stiff tug wasn't enough to relinquish the fabric.

He couldn’t remember when he had closed his eyes or when he had freed himself from the briar’s thorns. Nor did he care. All that mattered to him lay before him. A vast expense to get lost in.

Every way he turned looked the same as the one before. He didn’t know which way was North or where the moon shined above him, hidden by the dense canopy. At least he might have been able to follow the moon somewhere, preferably away from here. It seemed to be on the stranger’s mind as well.

Thrown off course in the unlikeliest of events led through the twist and turns that they would have to cross. Past the lurking dangers of the dark. How he wished they had been so fortunate.

The ground beneath their feet began to give, sinking into itself. The boy gasped, his feet shaking unsteadily underneath him. The stranger’s eyes widened as he took in the scene, rushing past the uneven ground to one that was solid.

Fear pulsed through the bith’s veins in his rush, the stranger lost his hold on the boy. The kid cried out, reaching for his savior as the ground began to give way. The stranger glanced back in surprise. He thought the boy had followed him across.

If only that were the case. To his horror, the dirt sunk below the surface taking the boy with it in a blink.

The bith screamed as he fell, falling weightless for what seemed like hours. His throat stung from use. Using what air was in his lungs then forcing his breath from him once he met the ground with a resounding smack. Pain radiated from every inch of his body. The worst started on the back of his skull. The stone ground was unforgiving as it was tough.

His scenes were dull and oversensitive. He winced, the ringing in his ears getting louder the longer he lay there. The putrid taste of copper twisted his stomach. Blurred vision stared dazed up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. Then, everything came back all at once.

He groaned, forcing himself into a sitting position, crawling backward with his hands until his back hit stone. Its smooth, cool surface helped to dull the pain if but for a moment. Sending a shock up his spine, grounding the boy from the ache.

The chill wasn’t unpleasant, rather unexpected as it made his breath stutter at the feeling. Focusing the energy, he had left on pulling air into his lungs proved to be futile. His head began to swim from the lack of oxygen. His lungs were struggling to get the air he needed, sending his senses into a panic.

There was nothing he could compare it to, it wasn’t like anything he had ever felt before. This panic was different. Somehow, he knew that. Different is dangerous. It was the one thing you could count on.

If only the haze could stop time as well.

Everything happened in slow motion. The ceiling moaned with the added weight, cracking further the closer to the edge they got. The near silent draw, the falling stones hitting the hard floor. The sound of heels against the rocks, close. Too close. No.

The boy whimpered with each step the stranger took. No, he couldn’t go back. He pleaded silently. Not another prison. A hand began to reach for him. It became the last thing he would see that night. Darkness invaded his vision as his eyes rolled back into his head.