I felt a stare piercing the back of my head, emitting the same energy as when I stuck my hand in the Life Vien, but this one was weak. No, a more accurate way of putting it is that the energy felt smaller.

  I focus on this feeling, trying to gauge if this is a threat. Then, whatever is staring at me moves deeper into the bushes. For a moment, I forget I am training with Emanuel and hit one of his batons too hard, sending it flying toward the bush.

  When we retrieved the stick, we encountered a group of Root Booters circling another one. It was ten versus one. The one being surrounded looked different from the others. His fur was sliver with black stripes stretched vertically down his body, from his nose to the tip of his tail. Another difference is his eyes. They are a bright purple rather than the pitch black of his kind.

  Red streaks painted his silver fur as blood dripped from fresh cuts and bite marks on his body. He has done his own damage as two other Root booters lay on the ground gasping from the air, as their blood drips from silver’s teeth and tail.

  One charged at the silver root booter, his mouth wide and aimed at his neck. A slime tentacle wrapped around the leaping Root Booter and I fling him beyond the bushes. This was all Emanuel needed for him to leap in and start swinging with a stick. The silver one took advantage of the chaos and jumped on one of them, and with that, we chased them back into the forest.

  I had to stop the silver one from finishing the two already defeated root botters. Instead, I let their friends take them away. No one needs to die today, and hopefully, the message not to mess with the silver one will land harder, showing the results of the battle.

  I know Gods are not supposed to pick favorites, but I couldn’t stand there and watch an innocent creature get murdered. It’s commonplace for creatures to eliminate what they consider odd and different in the animal kingdom. His fur didn't match the others, his tail was bigger and spiked with quilts as thick as thorns, and his eyes were all marks of death to his other species. Yes, persecution because they are different is commonplace in all species, but it doesn’t make it right. Thats something we learned long before we stepped outside our home. Well, I hope that is.

  The silver Root Booter crawled towards death’s feet, but he was still ready to fight. We slowly crept closer, calling to him as he growled and barked at us. It was adorable. He had these sharp little teeth, and his bark was a squeak that was higher pitch than the others.

  While he was distracted, a line of slime snuck behind him and scooped him up. I left his head free, but the rest of him frantically paddled in a goo bubble connected to the slime line. He needs his wounds treated, but he won't come patiently. I wouldn’t waste my time talking to him when I can trap in a bubble.

  His wounds were many, but his scars under the fur rivaled the fish in the sea. Once treated, he leaves, but in a few hours when we are cooking some fish, he comes sniffing from the bushes. Emanuel breaks a piece of fish and tosses it to him. The silver-furred fiend sniffs out the food and snatches it back to the bushes. After a couple of meals, his spiked tail lowers, and he sits beside us. While making breakfast, I found him sleeping on Emanuel’s chest in the morning. It was a sweet sight I wish to keep with me.

  I noticed patches of his fur never grew back, permanently revealing his scarred grey skin. The silver root booter became my vital assistant coach as Emanuel's training progressed. Providing moral support, a guide through the forest, and would fetch bottles when I would forget to water Emanuel.

  With him joining our camp, it came time to name our friend. Emanuel fires out a ton of names. Silver is too obvious. Thorn is too obvious. Baltrix Con Strevon is too obscure. I suggested Fiend, and his ears perked. It looked like he made his own dissection, so I welcomed Fiend to the team.

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  I remember a night when Emanuel was knocked out in the tent because he pushed himself too hard training in the two-stick style.

  His name, not mine.

  I was staring into the stars, enjoying the moment of peace. Fiend developed the habit of swimming in my body, which is… not my favorite. I pushed him out whenever he went inside, but Fiend treated it like a game. He would try to see how fast he could hop in and see how long he could stay in before getting shot out.

  He did that for an hour until the moon dusted off the clouds in front of her and blessed us with her light. Thebeams shined down on us as we felt the nighttime breeze. Fiend became a part of us, a member of the deranged family. He wasn’t a mascot we would show off but a functional team member.

  I was napping in the tent as usual in the early afternoon. Throughout the time, I was still recovering from my fight with Crimson. I was close to my full size and began taking mid-day naps to speed up the recovery. We weren’t blessed with a bountiful feast, only scaping by the food we hunted and the small batches we could steal. Food is really the main factor in how fast I can heal. So the less food I eat, the longer I need to sleep, but I don’t want to leave Emanuel alone longer than he already has, so these mid-day naps will have to do.

  Emanuel was in the forest training with Fiend. His training was focused on movement and danger prediction. Fiend would run forward with a piece of cloth tied around his tail. Emanuel needed to grab the cloth without hurting himself on the spike on Fiend's tail. The rootbooter an elusive little guy, so the task was much harder than Emanuel expected.

  Emanuel would run and have to rely on his instincts to avoid holes, doge branches, and any animal passing by. Some may think, “I am sorry, oh great CID, but this seems normal. What godly wisdom are we missing?”

  First, never apologize for not knowing something. We are never expected to know everything.

  Secondly, there is a critical rule to this training. He can never break pace. Slowing down is not an option. If he speeds up, he must maintain that speed the entire time. It's endurance training, and it emphasizes attention to surroundings while focused on a single target.

  Thirdly, yes, I am a genius.

  His pace was steady but quick, according to what I normally have seen. I wasn’t worried about them being alone as I devised a genius plan. To make sure I knew where they were in the forest, I made a bracelet made of crystalized slime for both of them. This way, I can both find them, they can talk to it, and I can hear them. A slime two-way communicator.

  I would soon find out they were deep in the forest when Emanuel noticed they weren’t the only ones running. Behind them were the Root Booters that attacked Fiend when we first met him.

  They began to lunge at Emanuel and Fiend. The root booters are clever creatures. They attack in groups and divide their enimies attention. When they work together, they can take down prey ten times their size.

  That is if their prey was average. Unfortunately, after months of training, they were up against Emanuel and Fiend. They began their counterattack without slowing down, as that would break the rules.

  Emanuel would describe it as an action-packed, choreographed game of cat and mouse. He swung his sticks at the attacking leaping rodents, but Fiend never left his vision. He would leap and bat anyone in his way as he reached for Fiend's tail.

  Fiend, on the other hand, grows fast and strong with time. His tail slap could knock a grown man out before he joined us, but now he can crush a Solar Sails door. Chalk that up to my divine wisdom. Well, 10 percent is wisdom, and 90 percent is his own hard work and dedication.

  The number of Root Booters grew, but all that added to the intensity of their game. They maneuvered through the trees with ease.

  Root Booters are clever. They concocted another plan once they saw they had no chance to win. The movements were deliberate, pushing Emanuel and Fiend toward a specific direction in the forest.

  They were forced into a clearing downhill surrounded by a crown of trees. In the entrance was a pool of thick purple water. The Root Booters scattered, never allowing anyone to enter the ring.

  I jolted awake once I felt my slime enter that clearing.

  The grass was greener there, and the trees were taller, as if racing to see who could touch the clouds first. The flowers were vibrant, and tiny streams of thick purple were scattered around the ground, all leading to the small end of thick purple liquid in a small pond. The air reeked of rotting flesh.

  I always avoided this place and told Emanuel never to go there, but clever woodland creatures tricked them. This is where I would feel that presence growing in the forest.

  Sloshing purple liquid filled the grass field as s