The Sorcerer Kingdom is mostly forest. Only a few cities, and fewer roads, cut through the trees. You pretty much have to memorize maps in order to travel anywhere. That's the first thing I studied to become a warrior. I know the geography pretty well. There's no doubt in my mind that I can get back home.... if it was daylight.

     Night on this continent is a whole other world then the daytime counterpart. It's no secret that this land is magical. The sorcerers learned to draw in out of the ground centuries ago. Pretty dull of hem to forget how. But Hybrids and Zemrlt are the result of magic induced evolutions to survive. All the plants and animals were affected by the magic, the nastier ones coming out at night. My vision is good enough to find my way in the dark, but definitely not the best. Papa said he could see as well as a wolf. I'm definitely not that good. The animals here will certainly try to eat me if the Dark Angle doesn't try first.

Said shadow sticks to my side like a leech. He is a slight relief for the cold, but still unsettling. You'd think he's on fire with how much heat it gives off. We still stand on the beach as I try to figure out which way to go. It's too cloudy for me to read the stars like I normally would of. I find myself talking to the Dark Angle by mistake. It's more of talking to myself with the one way conversation.

"So, if we follow the beach for a while, there should be a river going inland", I explain to Six, "The river flows just a few hundred feet from my village, and there's a deer trail to lead us home". Silence. Well, at least it can't tell anyone about how he had to pull me from a river. The Dark Angle stays waking right next to my side down the beach. His steps don't make any sound. It's creepy to have someone standing next to me, but knowing that they can't react to anything without a command. It's wing is still partially wrapped around my shoulders like a heat blanket. I don't dare to touch him otherwise. It's tail is like a cats, but covered in sharp quills. I can't see much else on it, besides the horns, with the blackness that completely covers him. I've probably have been staring at it a little too long at this point.

The beach is quite except for the incoming waves. It isn't long before I find the inlet. "Hey, here's the river. Now it's just a couple hours of waking", I say sarcastically. The shadow looks at the water, and back to me. Well, it's more of a reaction that I've seen from it all night. Waking into the forest is like flipping a switch. The thick tree canopy blocks most of what little light there is. I can't even make out anything more that a few feet in front of us. After tripping over my third tree root, I can't help bark out a cuss. "What the hell is wrong with all these roots? Can't they stay out of the way?", I complain to Six, "I get that they need to grow, but why are they always right where I'm stepping". I'm more trying to break the science than actually complaining. The only things I can hear are my own steps, and random sounds of night animals.

The Dark Angle seems to hear my words differently. I jump a little when it brings up his hands. A reflective, glass like surface appears in the air in front of him. It floats and stays the same distance away as we walk. Six stares at it without looking up. "Is that some kind of mirror?", I ask while cocking my head. No answer. I huff and turn away. After I while, I do notice that I haven't been tripping on anymore roots. Would you look at that? He's a plant whisperer. Part of me is curious at what else Six can do, but the other doesn't really want to know.

It's not long after that I see a dim light up ahead. I slow my walking, the shadow doing he same. He looks up from the mirror and at the light. There's a few mosses that glow blue at night, but not yellow. "That is probably not very good", I remark. Six doesn't answer my question, but he does drop his mirror and walk closer to the light. I shiver at the sudden cold and follow behind. This isn't the best idea for the middle of the night, but the river leads straight to it.

Six stops next to a tree and stares at a spot out of my sight. I come up behind him and cringe at what's making the glow. God, I hate these things! Sitting in the fork of the tree is a long, striped centipede. These things grow anywhere from a foot to a foot and a half. All it's little legs creep me out almost as bad as the Dark Angle. The centipede is purple with thin, yellow stripes. The stripe are what's glowing. "Ugh, these things are disgusting", I grumble. Six is still looking at it, soon reaching up a hand to poke it.

I reacted more on instinct then anything else. Grabbing his wrist, I yank him away with a cuss. "What the hell are you doing!?", I yell at him, "That thing is poisonous, you'd be dead before sunrise!". The strength of my own voice surprises me. My hand it still wrapped tightly around Six's wrist. I half expected to pass right through him. His wrist is solid. More than that, it feels completely normal. It's skin is a little warm, but I can feel the leather sleeve of some kind of coat. He's also tensed up like he's ready to bolt. Despite the darkness and empty actions, he feels disturbingly human. His pulse is strong against my grip. I let go with a jerk.

     The Dark Angle doesn't react, just dropping it's arm. The crystal is warm against my skin. What is this thing? The longer I'm around it, the more questions I have. I've been holding up my spear, but now I let it sag at my side. "Ok", I sigh, "Let's keep moving. We should be home some time in the morning". Six follows next to me when I start moving. It crosses my mind that it's kinda like a child. Six does what I say like he's obeying a parent, yet somehow still gets in trouble. All that's missing is the emotion.

The temperature is dropping, but bearable with the Dark Angle walking close to me. The flowing river lulls me into a more relaxed mood. The nighttime birds and bugs are nice to at least listen to. If nothing bigger shows up, we should be ok. Does my Sib still think I'm dead? When Zemrlts loose someone close to them, one of our eyes turn white. I remember watching my sister weave a basket when one of her brown eyes turned white. She could see mine do the same. Our mother appeared to us soon after. Papa was just a few years later. They could never stay very long. I'm coming home, just don't give up on me, Sib.