EMPIRE OF THE CASTAWAYS

Chapter 6: First Flesh

Ravindra 

Ravindra's thirteenth winter arrived with a storm more vicious than usual.

Wind howled like wounded beasts, carrying snow that didn't fall straight but sideways, stabbing every gap in the bear fur clothing he wore. Frostreach's sky had been dark gray since morning, the kind of gray that said this storm wouldn't pass in a day or two. Maybe a week. Maybe more. Air so cold his breath froze before becoming mist, instantly transforming into tiny ice crystals that fell back to earth like diamond dust.

Ravindra stood at the cave mouth, staring at the white world spinning in beautiful, deadly chaos. He was taller now, though still small for a ten-year-old child. His muscles were dense as coiled rope, every movement containing efficiency learned from thousands of hours training. Small scars covered his hands, some from falling on ice, some from Auratigris's claws during sparring that got too close. His face no longer held childhood softness. Cheekbones prominent, jaw firm, steel-gray eyes that had seen too much for his age.

But today, those eyes didn't gaze at the storm with fear. Only calculation. How long before visibility became zero? How far could he go before tracks were completely covered? Could the prey he tracked yesterday still be found, or had the storm already erased all signs?

"You won't hunt today." Auratigris's voice came from deep in the cave, echoing with a tone that left no room for argument. The great guardian lay on her usual warm stone, wings folded tight, blue and gold eyes reflecting the small fire burning in the corner. "This storm will kill even experienced predators. You, though good enough, aren't yet foolish enough to challenge it."

Ravindra didn't turn back. His hand still held the wooden frame where he dried rabbit meat caught three days ago, now hardened into jerky that could last months. Their supplies were enough for two weeks, maybe three if he was frugal. But three weeks was long to sit in a cave doing nothing except practice movements he'd already memorized beyond thought.

"I can survive," he said finally, voice flat. Statement of fact, not arrogance.

"Surviving and being foolish are two different things. Surviving means knowing when not to fight." Sound of great movement, then Auratigris appeared beside him, massive head lowering to watch the storm with eyes that had witnessed thousands of winters. "Frostreach is angry today. Let her be angry alone. We have food. We have warmth. We have time."

Time. The word felt strange in Ravindra's ears. Time was something he always filled with training, hunting, learning. Stopping felt like retreating. Like wasting something precious.

But Auratigris was never wrong. Never wrong about Frostreach.

Ravindra released the wooden frame, letting it lean against the cave wall, then turned inside. Warmth welcomed him like a thick blanket, sharp contrast to the cold outside that seemed to want to peel flesh from bone. The small fire in the cave corner wasn't large, but heat generated by Auratigris's own body was enough to make the entire room as warm as a human house with a great hearth.

He sat on stone near the fire, pulling out the small knife he'd taken from the slave hunters two years ago. Good quality steel, still sharp though he'd sharpened it many times. There was small carving on the handle, a symbol he didn't understand but didn't care to know. What mattered was function, not history.

"Tell me about the sea," he said suddenly, surprising himself. He didn't know why those words came out. Maybe because of the storm. Maybe because of the coming silence. Maybe just because he wanted to hear a voice other than wind.

Auratigris stared at him with blue eyes that seemed to hold entire oceans within. "Why the sea?"

"Because I've never seen it. Because you said your name means tiger of sea and sky. I've seen sky every day. But the sea..." He stopped, unsure how to finish the sentence. "I want to know what it's like to see something bigger than mountains."

Silence filled the cave for moments, only broken by wind outside and small fire crackling. Then Auratigris moved, position shifting so her great head was closer to Ravindra, eyes staring at fire as if seeing something far beyond this stone room.

"The sea," the guardian began, voice dropping to the storytelling tone rarely used, "is something that can't be explained with human words. You can say it's vast, and that's true, but not enough. You can say it's deep, and that's also true, but doesn't capture the essence. The sea is life and death in perfect balance. It feeds millions of creatures and drowns thousands of ships. It's gentle in morning when waves are only whispers on shore, and it's ferocious in storm nights when waves tall as mountains strike cliffs until stone shatters."

Ravindra listened, knife stopping movement in his hand. He could almost see it in Auratigris's words. Almost feel salt in air, hear sound deeper than thunder, see blue different from sky blue.

"I was born there," Auratigris continued. "Not on shore, but inside. In a place so deep that sunlight never touches. There, pressure can crush steel like you crush snow. There, creatures live that human eyes have never seen, that glow with their own light, that hunt in eternal darkness." The guardian paused, blue eyes flashing with memories older than Ravindra's existence. "I rose to the surface only once every hundred years. To see sky. To remember the world is more than pressure and darkness."

"Why do you stay in Frostreach if you were born in the sea?" The question came out before Ravindra could think whether it was appropriate to ask.

But Auratigris didn't seem offended. "Because the sea no longer wants me. When twelve guardians were called to bind themselves to twelve nations, I refused. I said no one can own the sea, so no one can own me. They didn't like that answer." There was bitterness in that voice, old pain that never truly healed. "So they exiled me. Made me unable to return inside. I can see the sea, can stand on shore, but can't enter again. Like there's an invisible wall. Like my own home rejects me."

Something tightened in Ravindra's chest. Recognition. He knew what it felt like to be rejected by a place that should be home. He knew what it felt like to stand at the threshold and not be able to enter.

"So you came here. To the place farthest from the sea."

"Yes. If I couldn't have the sea, then I would have its opposite. Mountains. Cold. Silence." Auratigris stared at Ravindra with intensity that made the child almost look away, but he held on, gray eyes meeting blue. "Until I found an infant in snow. Until silence was no longer silent."

Those words hung in air like promise, like confession, like something too large to speak but already spoken.

Ravindra didn't know what to say. Thank you felt too small. I understand felt too presumptuous. So he only nodded, small movement, and returned to his knife, sharpening an already sharp edge until sharper still.

Outside, the storm continued roaring. Snow piled at cave mouth like a slowly growing wall, blocking light until only small fire illuminated the room. But inside, there was warmth not just from guardian body or fire. There was warmth from spoken words, from shared stories, from two creatures rejected by the world finding home in each other.

Hours passed. Ravindra finally set down the knife and moved to the cave corner where he kept his training staff. Without words, he began movements already memorized. Attack, defense, turn, leap. Body moving with smoothness from thousands of repetitions. Sweat began emerging despite cold air, breath coming in regular rhythm.

Auratigris watched in silence, eyes following every movement with attention never slackening. Occasionally the guardian would correct. "Elbow higher. That turn too wide, enemy can enter from left. Back foot more stable or you'll fall on hard impact."

Small corrections. Detail adjustments. The difference between good and perfect.

When Ravindra finally stopped, breath heavy, body trembling from exhaustion, sun outside had long set. Or maybe never rose. Hard to tell in the storm. What was clear was darkness already covering the world, and only small fire and glowing patterns on Auratigris's back provided light.

"You've improved," Auratigris said, voice carrying a tone that might be pride. "In the last two years, you've grown not just in size but in understanding. You don't just memorize movements. You understand why each movement exists."

Ravindra didn't answer, only sat heavily on stone, letting his heartbeat slowly return to normal. There was satisfaction in this exhaustion. Satisfaction from knowing every drop of sweat, every aching muscle, was investment for surviving longer.

"Tomorrow," he finally said, "when the storm passes, I want to try something different."

"What?"

"I want to go down farther. To the valley below. You once said there's a small village there, where miners live. I want to see them. Not to interact. Just see. Understand how normal humans live."

Auratigris was silent very long, so long Ravindra began thinking the guardian wouldn't answer. Then, slowly, the guardian nodded.

"You're ready for that. But remember, seeing and being seen are two different things. If they see you, a child alone without parents in mountains, they'll ask questions. They'll want to know. And questions bring problems."

"I know. I'll be careful."

"Careful isn't enough. You must be invisible. Like shadow. Like wind. They must not know you were ever there."

Ravindra nodded. He'd already learned how to move soundlessly, how to blend with surroundings, how to make himself small and unnoticeable. But this would be different. This wasn't against animals or elements. This was about humans, with their sharp eyes for things that shouldn't exist, with suspicion from living in a dangerous world.

But he had to try. Had to see. Because one day, Auratigris said, he would descend from this mountain not as observer but as something more. And when that day came, he needed to know what he faced.

That night, as Ravindra lay on his warm stone, listening to the storm beginning to subside, he dreamed of the sea he'd never seen and the village he would see tomorrow. In that dream, those two worlds collided, waves crashing into wooden houses, and he stood in the middle, not wet, not hurt, only watching as the world changed around him.

When he woke, the storm had stopped. Sky clear with rare dawn pink in Frostreach. And Ravindra knew, with certainty that couldn't be explained, that today would change something.

Today, he would begin understanding the world that once cast him out.