Having to drag the female after him had slowly started to annoy Chris - and, to be honest, had also caused a throbbing pain in his left shoulder and elbow that he didn't want to risk turning into a chronic problem. The logical conclusion had been to break a thin and flexible branch from one of the nearby trees and to let Scarlett walk in front of him. That way Chris could hold the leash and let the female pull him along while she trudged forwards with the supplies on her back. Her assistance made the ascent a lot more pleasant for him, and whenever she slowed down all he had to do was plant a well-aimed blow on one of her butt cheeks or the back of her thighs. The sting of the branch would immediately remind her that she needed to march with a faster pace again.

At first he had had a bad conscience for treating her like this. But quickly his feelings of guilt had disappeared, because he was pretty sure that the balm would help to heal all those deep red wedges on her ass and thighs pretty fast, maybe even over the course of next night (he had hit her carefully at first but a little harder after that, when he had realized how miserably slow she dragged herself along, howlazy she truly was without the additional motivation, and now her rear honestly looked pretty sore) and anyways, the female somehow never freaked out, never really complained about her treatment: She just kept following the path, wheezing and panting, sweating and drooling. Her nipples, he realized, stayed erected. Her crotch was so moist that the proof for her constant arousal slowly began to cover the inner sides of her thighs. Sure, she yelped or groaned when another stroke hit her increasingly bruised flesh, but she always sounded more surprised than truly rebellious. So all in all, Chris was positive that he didn't cause her any real, serious pain.

From time to time she looked at him, eyes rolling, staring at him so confused. Whenever she did that he felt pity for her and touched her, petted her, told her that she was doing well and they were getting closer to the top. She seemed to like hearing those things and would continue to ascend a little calmer again, a little reassured. Only once or twice he thought he still heard her sob or saw her arms twitch in the bonds.

For most of the time he just concentrated on the journey and the progress they made: Whenever there was an opening in the line of trees and bushes to his left, Chris could see how far they had already ascended. The old ruins lay far beneath them, half hidden in the mists and looking more and more dream-like. Behind the forest, he could only vaguely discern the yellow-brown wasteland where their journey had begun. The sea was just a faint shimmer, close to the horizon.

It was again getting close to evening time, but there was still enough light to cover some more ground, and so Chris kept driving the female forward. The path took one final turn and then only led some more steps upwards before it reached a large clearing. Scarlett stopped there, panting and wheezing, staring at something with wide eyes and shaking legs. Chris quickly closed the gap between them, more than just curious to see what awaited them.

As far as he was standing at the females' side he could see that they had reached a plateau, overgrown with thick vegetation, but with a wide clearing in its middle. A small pond gurgled at one side. In a loose circle the clearing was surrounded - and its boundaries where marked - by giant, overgrown obelisks. It looked like the builders of the city had brought them up here: Their stone was of the same color and quality as many of the old palaces and buildings at the foot of the hill. And the carvings in these obelisks looked like they had been done by artists who had clearly used the same style as work as those at the foot of the hill.

There was only one major difference to note: The carvings in these obelisks up here did not show Queens, Goddesses and Priestesses anymore, and they did not depict the same equality between the sexes that had been reflected everywhere in the ruins downhill: In these carvings, all females were kept in chains or bonds, their arms on their backs and ankles hobbled, their faces hooded and their mouths either covered or at least altered by what looked like animal masks, bridles and gags. They were driven forward by males with whips, and in some of the depictions where rushed out of town, in some were used sexually in their helpless state or forced to work on the fields, dragging plows and carts like beasts of burden. There was, Chris detected with awestruck wonder, even a series of pictures that showed how a horde of chained and bridled women where forced by whip to drag massive obelisks up a steep hill - most likely the very obelisks which he was studying right now.

Behind him, Scarlett shuddered, groaned, stared wide-eyed at what she saw. There was no telling anymore how much of it she actually could grasp and for a short, dark moment Chris felt very alone, wishing he could still have a conversation with her like they used to have then back on the beach. But those times were gone.

Meanwhile he had wandered from one of the large stone testimonies of past times to the other with his mouth half agape. He was now standing about thirty feet from the point where he had stepped into the clearing. Suddenly the feeling of being watched was back with a vengeance, stronger than ever before. Where those real eyes that looked at him from the shadows beyond the clearing, or just figments of his fantasy? Did he really hear footsteps behind him? As he turned around, trying to look into all directions more or less at once, Chris saw that figures were indeed moving in the twilight around him. Muscular men, clad in leather and rough linen, were entering the clearing from all sides, which automatically put him and Scarlett in the middle of a loose circle. The Natives looked grim, but he thought that in some of their faces he also saw a hint of curiosity. Without surprise he recognized the older man among them, the one who had shown him the message carved into a tree, down at the lake.

All of them held weapons, but none of these weapons were yet aimed directly at Chris. And anyways, during the past days he had changed in more than just one way: Even though he knew he still was in mortal danger he didn't feel the same kind of fear anymore.

One of the Natives suddenly caught his attention: This man reminded him of someone. Chris hesitated, furrowed his brow and then finally, as the Native half smiled, was sure that he recognized him. The realization hit him like a hammer.

"So you're still alive", he said to Hendrik. His voice was shaking a little. "You look... quite different from last time."

This was definitely true. Hendrik- who had been a pale, blonde man with overweight and an impressive belly - had lost most of his fat and gained a lot of muscle in exchange. His skin was deeply tanned now and his hair was dyed dark and much shorter. Several tattoos in the style of the Natives adorned Hendrik's broad chest and he wore the same primitive clothing the other men did. A knife with a long obsidian blade was tied to his belt and made him appear all the more feral.

"You look different too." Ironically he sounded just like Chris had sounded to Scarlett only weeks ago: Like a man who had not talked in his mother language for years and was not used to it anymore. "I did not really believe it when they told me that another man was wandering from the beach towards the inland."

"They?" Chris raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the Natives. "So you have learned their language?"

"Daniel and I had to learn it when we got in contact with them. We needed allies to survive here, and they know everything about this land."

"So you are not their prisoner? Can you move freely?"

"Yes, sure I can. They have accepted me as a member of the tribe. I have the same privileges and the same duties as any other of these men."

Chris shook his head. "So even though you could have returned... you left me at the beach and never came back. You never sent me a message. You never tried to get me out of there."

"You don't understand, Chris. After we met the Natives we had to make some tough decisions, and we were sure you wouldn't understand. You had always been so considerate and so thoughtful, and you reacted so bad to Zoe's and Swantje's plan... we thought you'd be safer at the beach."

"Fuck you, Hendrik! I was alone for fuck's sake. I didn't have a female to show these guys how tough I was. You left me there to go insane or fucking die!"

Hendrik hesitated, still that weird half-smile on his lips. Something about his behavior seemed off to Chris, and suddenly he realized what it was: When he had recognized Hendrik, the man had already been standing pretty close to Scarlett, who eyed him nervously but didn't seem to really understand what was going on anymore. Now, during their brief conversation, Hendrik had wandered further toward the harnessed female. He attempted to do it as casually as possible, but why then did all the Natives watch him and Chris so intently? And did the men have their hands closer to their weapons now that Hendrik reached for Scarlett's loose leash? Instinctively Chris understood that the conversation between them was just meaningless banter - that Hendrik was merely trying to distract him long enough to get Scarlett under his control! He shot forward and crossed the distance between them with a few quick steps, reaching for the leash himself now.

"Scarlett, come here!"

Hendrik half turned in his direction and hit him with a fierce uppercut that literally sent Chris flying through the air with a force that made him fear his skull might have been shattered by the blow.

But it had not, or, if Chris was indeed seriously hurt, at least he did not yet feel the effects: With a grade of dexterity that surprised him he was already on his feet again, adrenaline pumping through his veins, just as Hendrik rushed at him with his fists raised. His opponent was taller and heavier than him, but anger welled up inside Chris, drowning his fear. Instincts took over and instead of evading the other man he met him half way at full speed. They clashed into each other and then rolled across the ground, exchanging blows without remorse.

It was an unequal fight: Hendrik was definitely stronger than Chris, but he also moved slower and soon breathed heavily, due to his weight and thick muscles. And Chris had never before felt so healthy and good in his life. He realized that, even if he had not eaten the leaves, something was definitely affecting his physique. Twice he evaded Hendrik's attacks with relative ease, ignoring his bleeding eyebrow and nose, hitting the attacker with quick, catlike punches. Then, as his opponent leaped at him again, Chris managed to kick him in the side of his knee, causing him to lose balance. Hendrik fell with an angry scream and roared again as Chris threw himself on him and began forcing him into a chokehold. For about a minute both men wrestled each other bitterly, but finally Chris had gotten his enemy into a position with his own arm slung around his throat. Hendrik coughed and wheezed, his face turning purple.

"Let... go of me", the larger man spat out with the last air that was still in his lungs. To Chris' amazement he was grinning like a madman despite the fact that he was as good as dead. "If you want... answers... you need to... let me live..."

Hendrik couldn't say more, but Chris had already understood. He realized that Hendrik had attacked him, but had not used the knife that had been in his belt all the time. Also, the Natives still watched them, still waited and still hadn't touched Scarlett, who was staring wide-eyed at Chris through her mask and hood. The fact that no one of the spectators had interfered, Chris assumed, had to mean that this fight, however brutal it might have been, had also had a strong ritualistic component.

He released Hendrik from the chokehold and stood up. The first thing he did then was grab Scarlett's leash and pull her towards him. She muttered something but completely failed to produce something intelligible. He was pretty sure that even without the gag what she thought she had to say wouldn't be a lot more comprehensible.

"What the hell is going on, Hendrik? What happened to Daniel? What happened to Zoe and Swantje, and what the fuck happened to you? Can I finally get some damn answers?"

"Absolutely." Hendrik got up too, a lot more shaky then Chris, and nodded. His grin had been replaced by a solemn look. "You just passed the last test, Chris. Follow us to the camp, it's close by. There you can eat and drink and get some rest. You can also meet Zoe and Swantje. And you will get all the answers you want."

Chris studied Hendrik's face thoroughly, but he did not see deception in it, just honest respect. "Good. I'll follow you then."

"But you might not like all the answers you get, Chrissy-Boy."

"Don't call me that. And I don't care if I like the answers. I just want to understand."

"Very well, everything will be explained. This isn't fucking Lost after all."