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[h1]Anshumat[/h1]
[h3][color=gray]They live as though they were a beast, but fights as a God.[/color][/h3]
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A stream of sunlight filtered through the flap of the tent, fastened up as to leave the opening clear. Birds chirped outside, the light din of daily life for the Selka filtering through the thin hide walls. Anshumat had taken off the cast on their arm the day before; their arm stiff but no longer painful. The demigod sat up in the tent, not quite wanting to go out and disturb the Selka.

Their clothes had been repaired, the gashes from Shengshi’s abuse sown out. Anshumat had gone out personally to locate the materials; as soon as they had the strength to do so. All the articles were silken, finely-woven. Anshumat had to see to the weaving themselves, as the Selka did not hold the knowledge of silk weaving.

The sound of footsteps came over the others; approaching the flap in the tent. Anshumat looked up to find Artonu poking his head in. The demigod beckoned him in. He came over, undoing the clothing over Anshumat’s chest and checking the wounds once more. After a short while of thought, Artonu finally came to their conclusion.

“It is the worst scarring I have ever seen, yet, in a mere 7 sundowns, your wounds have entirely healed. Your eyes will never see again; but the rest has healed over. I cannot believe it.”

Anshumat closed up the tunic and robe once more, responding merely with, “I cannot believe it just the same.”

Artonu simply shook his head. “The scars will never go away, but it is a small price to pay for such rapid healing. If only I knew how such a thing would come to be.”

The demigod simply slumped their head. “It is a complicated tale. I do not wish to share it now. What lands are around us? I have not gone far; are there other tribes nearby?”

Artonu answered, “That is your choice; for the lands around us, our tribe has left the lands to the north due to the vast populations; we could not survive the territorial disputes for long. We left for greener pastures down here, to the south.”

Anshumat nodded, hesitating for a short moment before saying, “Then I must go. I do not wish to put you in danger more than I already have. My father may wish to punish you for sheltering me, and he would be more than a match for your entire tribe. I thank you all the same for your help; never lose that charity.”

A confused look came across Artonu’s face, and he questioned, “Who is your father, that he may hold the power to annihilate an entire tribe? Who is he to be so vindictive that he would attempt to kill you and track you down when he fails?”

Anshumat opened their mouth, snorting out a sigh, “It is safer for you if you do not know. I am blessed to have met you, Artonu, but I must go. Continue to heal the sick and wounded, and know that you have my thanks now and always.”

Artonu finally resigned their argument. “If that is your choice, you were never our prisoner. Melao enjoyed your company when she joined you on your outings; if you are to go, all I ask is that you give your goodbyes to her as well.”

Anshumat simply nodded their assent, and slowly rose to their feet, far outstripping the comparatively meagre height of the Selka. Stepping out of the tent into the sunlight, they looked around, their blind eyes scanning over the children playing on the riverbank, across the drying racks of food, and onto Melao, showing another Selka how to knap a spear.

She looked up from the task as Anshumat approached, telling the young Selka student to catch up to her later. After the student had run off to practice on their own, Melao stood up and came over to Anshumat, meeting the demigod in the middle.

“It’s good to see you up again. Did you need anything?” Melao offered as the demigod came to a haltering stop a foot away. Anshumat responded, “I will not lead you on; I will be leaving, and in my path none can follow.”

Melao’s face instantly dropped. She rapidly fired out her concerns, “Why? Is something chasing you? Were we not hospitable enough?” Anshumat shook their head immediately, looking down at the ground for a moment before answering, “It is not your fault nor your tribes; my presence here marks a danger to your tribe I cannot live with inflicting.”

A wave of determination washed across Melao’s expression, as she declared, “Then the tribe will face the danger with you. We are not afraid.”

Anshumat said back, “No, your tribe will not. You would not survive.”

The Selka cried back, “Together, we’ll face whatever danger approaches, and together we’ll all surviv-”

The demigod gained a sudden windfall, a fury previously untapped, as they rose their voice, and firmly spoke, “NO. Your tribe [i]will not survive.[/i] You imagine the danger as something you can overcome, but it is not. You are but ants in the conflict that lays before me. I broke with my father in my decision not to include you, who are so outmatched as to be less than nothing in the face of the weapons and strength arrayed. I will not turn my back on that decision. I will leave and never return, in the interest of your safety. You will always have my thanks, but I [i]cannot[/i] place you into the danger my presence represents.”

A stunned silence overtook Melao, unfamiliar and unprepared for a sudden outburst from the otherwise relatively soft-spoken demigod silencing any resistance she was prepared to relay towards the decision. She watched as Anshumat huffed in dejected frustration, and she did not intervene when the lanky being trudged out of the camp.

Anshumat, for their part, did not look back at the tribe. Their departure bore heavy upon them, and to look back upon what they were leaving risked to break their resolve. As such, it was safer for Anshumat to not dwell upon it. Soon enough, the camp of the tribe was swallowed into the copse of trees at the demigod’s back, and the din of tribal life was replaced by the babble of wildlife and the gentle flow of the nearby river.

As a divine being, Anshumat had little worry for mortal concerns such as sleep or sustenance, and as such, they trudged unstoppingly northward, following the river from a fair distance. The river was a useful navigation aide, but Anshumat was not comfortable willingly remaining close to it; it was the domain of their erstwhile father, and they wished to remain as separated from it as reasonably possible.

They paid little attention to the sun in the sky, they could spot the essence it projected through their vague divine sights glimpsed through unworking eyes, but ultimately the passage of time mattered little to the demigod. A day turned into two, and two turned into five. Anshumat skimmed by the sides of Selka tribes, seeing no reason to disturb them. Ultimately, they did not know where they were heading, but all the same they walked.

When Anshumat came to the northern coast of the continent, they walked westwards along it until they came across a soft beach, blanketed by finely-ground sand instead of sheer cliffs and boulders. The demigod sat down, blindly looking out upon the tides’ ebb and flow. Hanging their head, they lay still for hours upon the edge of the surf.

Anshumat’s ears suddenly picked up a slithering sound. The reaction was immediate as it was hasty, the demigod spinning around and lashing out violently with a lance of divine energy, needled into a deadly point. It arced through the air unopposed, impacting violently with the body of a mere beastly serpent, one of the natural qualities; nothing like Shengshi. It trashed horribly in pain for a moment before expiring, its body beginning to melt under the pure force projected upon it.

The demigod collapsed backwards into the sand, breathing heavily as they stared lidlessly at the liquidizing body of the snake. They slowly calmed down, and bringing their head into their hands, began to reflect on what they’d done. The divine heart in their chest continued to beat heavily despite Anshumat’s calming, its rhythm still demanding the divine being to run as far away as quickly as possible.

The tide washed over Anshumat and the puddle that was the snake, giving a macabre color to parts of the surf as the gore mixed in with the water. Anshumat paid it no mind, feeling no desire to move. With a glance about the land around to ensure privacy, Anshumat sobbed slightly and quietly.

[hider= Summary]
Anshumat healed in a week, lots of scar tissue and their eyes are blinded, oops. Good thing there’s divine blindsight or whatever.

Anshumat proceeds to leave the tribe, after fighting their friend Melao over it.

They walk for an indeterminate amount of time, avoiding Selka until they reach the northern coast.

They find a beach and sit on it to reflect.

OH FUCK SLITHERING NOISES

Anshumat kills a regular snake, and collapses backwards. Their hard facade breaks after they ensure they’re alone and they sob a bit. Sad. 
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