It had been at least a week since Erasmus last tasted food.
By his own estimate, perhaps eight days—though time here stretched strangely, like breath fogging glass and then vanishing before you could name it. Hunger gnawed at the edges of his awareness like a dull knife, but he bore it easily. He had endured worse. Needed less. He could go longer if necessary.
But this? This lull—this temporary moment of calm where no hostile entities stirred from the woods and no fractures in reality screamed open beneath their feet—it was opportunity.
And Erasmus did not waste opportunity.
They had traveled far from the red clearing, deeper into the forest where the grass grew taller, the bark blackened like burned flesh, and the air hung thick with the smell of wet leaves and quiet rot. Still, there were no threats. The silence felt... rehearsed.
Erasmus stopped in the middle of the path, turned slightly, and asked with casual innocence, "Do any of you have food?"
They blinked.
"No..." Mira said hesitantly, her brow furrowed. "I thought maybe Calden had some rations, but his pack was empty."
Sir Calden shook his head. "Nothing. Haven't eaten since before we got to… wherever this place is."
Riven sighed. "Weird we're not dead yet, isn't it?"
"Maybe we don't need to eat here," Brin muttered, almost hopefully.
"Or maybe we're just rotting slower," Rei added with a dark chuckle.
Erasmus let their chatter hang in the air for a moment before gently raising his arm and pointing to one of the nearby crimson trees.
"What about that?" he asked, his tone curious, harmless—childlike.
The group followed his finger.
Hanging in clusters among the twisted red branches were fruits the size of a clenched fist. Smooth, dark red skin, glossy like lacquered blood. Black-veined leaves curled around their stems like thorns, and they pulsed faintly, almost as if breathing.
They didn't look edible.
But they looked... possible.
Mira stepped forward, squinting up at the fruit. "We didn't notice those before…"
"I'm pretty sure we walked past this exact tree," Riven murmured.
Sir Calden narrowed his eyes. "You think they're safe?"
Erasmus shrugged with open palms. "I mean… maybe we should test one?" he said, tilting his head innocently. "It could help. We can't starve forever."
Riven gave him a look, but didn't argue.
The group climbed the twisted trunks, pulling fruit from the branches and dropping them into makeshift pouches. The trees didn't resist. The fruit came free with ease, almost eagerly.
Mira wiped one off on her sleeve, gave it a cautious sniff. "Smells… sweet."
The others followed suit.
"Erasmus," Brin asked as they sat around the stones of their strange camp, "aren't you eating?"
Erasmus blinked once, then smiled gently. "No… I want to save mine. So I can survive longer."
He let his expression darken slightly. His voice dropped into a near-whisper.
"I've been lost for so long," he said, eyes wide and wet like a child recounting trauma. "Wandering. Alone. I thought I'd die out here."
The group was quiet.
"But then He spoke to me," Erasmus continued, his voice rising. "The God who gave me purpose. The God who showed me the path! His fruit is mercy! His design is survival! Do you not see it? I found it!"
Erasmus shook his head with a shy smile. "No… I want to save mine. For later. If things get worse."
His voice dropped just slightly, trembling with just the right note of pitiful earnestness. "I was lost in these woods for days before I found you. I lived off bark and rainwater. I thought I'd die out here."
The group's expressions softened. Riven looked vaguely uncomfortable.
"But then," Erasmus said, lifting his head, eyes shining, "my God showed me the way. Truly! In my moment of weakness, I was given strength. I was shown the path. The fruit may sustain the body—but faith will carry the soul!"
He raised a hand like a priest invoking a sermon.
"You eat for today—but I have eaten from the table of truth! Praise be to The One Who Walks Beyond Reason!"
Erasmus' eyes were roaming crazily across their faces, taking their silence as agreement.
"Here! This place is where salvation begins!"
The group exchanged quiet, uncomfortable glances.
Mira, soft-hearted as ever, offered a small, crooked smile. "Really? That's… amazing. I hope we all survive. I really do."
She leaned closer to Brin and whispered, "I think he might have some mental issues… maybe from being alone too long."
Brin nodded slowly. "Still… he did lead us here."
The others said nothing, but their expressions were tight. Tired. Cautiously grateful. Uncomfortable.
They ate.
One by one, they bit into the fruit. Its flesh was soft, dense, with a strange aftertaste like bitter honey. It didn't sting. It didn't hurt. And within minutes, the pain in their stomachs dulled. Hunger quieted.
They slept not long after.
Erasmus remained where he was, sitting atop a smooth stone like a monument, his cloak wrapped around him. His eyes, ever unblinking, watched the trees. The red fruits had already begun to grow back. Not gradually—quickly. Too quickly.
He said nothing.
But he noted it.
Behind him, Riven stirred from his place beside the others. His eyes landed on the trees—on the fresh fruit, glistening in the moonless light.
"…Didn't we just pick those?" he whispered.
He reached toward one.
The moment his hand brushed the fruit, he felt it—warmth. A comfort so profound it clouded thought. It was like holding a piece of home. He blinked, confused by the sudden ease, and the question left his mind.
Riven smiled faintly. "Guess I imagined it."
He laid back down and said nothing more.
—
Sometime during the hours that followed, beneath the twisted sky and pulsing trees, the camp stirred again.
But this time, it wasn't hunger or nightmares that woke them.
It was pain.
Mira screamed first, a short, sharp gasp that choked off into a gurgle.
Brin sat bolt upright, his limbs flailing, his spine arched unnaturally. Roots tore through the back of his shirt, spiraling out from his flesh like something growing him from the inside out.
Sir Calden clutched at his chest, blood spurting from his collar as bark cracked through his skin.
Rei's face was half-covered in leaves, red and twitching, blooming where his jaw once was.
And Riven—
Riven stared at his hands in horror as his fingertips began to splinter, dark wood replacing flesh, veins pulsing with sap. He opened his mouth to scream—but only petals came out.
One by one, they screamed.
And Erasmus watched.
His eyes unmoving.
Silent.