Without warning, Thorne moved.
The commander unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion. It was a simple blade, unadorned but sharp.
He lunged toward Corvin. Corvin was startled and instinctively shielded his eyes. The wind from the motion struck Corvin's face.
A moment of silence
Then.
Clang
A rush of air.
Corvin was surprised and opened his eyes.
Thorne's blade was frozen in midair, pressed against nothing. Yet the strain in the captain's arms, the tension in his frame, told another story. He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowed and locked forward. Those eyes,they shone, unnaturally bright. Not just with light, but with something deeper. A golden hue, sharp as sunlight on steel.
"Get to safety!" Thorne bellowed, not taking his eyes off the unseen foe.
Corvin didn't hesitate.
Corvin didn't hesitate. He turned and ran, ducking behind the gnarled trunk of a thick tree. His back pressed hard against the rough bark, every breath shallow. He clutched his spear tightly, knuckles white. The torch flickered in his grip, casting quivering light that barely pushed back the dark. He peeked out and looked at the ongoing battle.
Sparkes bursted from Thorne's sword like fireflies in the dark, the blade clashing against nothing.
No…not nothing.
'There's something' Corvin knew.
The suddenly.
Thorne shouted. The words coming out of his mouth sounded like gibberish and made no sense to Corvin. But somehow, he felt them touching his heart, restricting him from doing something.
The air rippled. An invisible pressure crashed down on the forest, heavy as a stormcloud.
And then…
Light.
The darkness peeled back like a veil. And for the first time, Corvin saw it.
Corvin's breath caught. His knees buckled.
A creature.
Humanoid in shape, but only barely. Its spine curled in a hunched arch, and its limbs were long, jointed wrong. Its flesh was chaos, a twisted collage of fur, scales, feathers, exposed bones. Its eyes were round, unblinking, red as if filled with blood. Its mouth gaped open, revealing jagged teeth, far too many for any animal. And worst of all… It smiled.
It looked like something straight out of the horror stories whispered by hearthlight, nightmares passed down through generations, stories too old to have names.
Corvin looked down and froze.
The ground he was standing on turned into a pool of blood, trailing from behind him. There lay a deer, mangled beyond recognition. Its body had been torn open, bones snapped and twisted, its face frozen mid-scream. Something deep in Corvin's gut turned. He retched, falling to his knees and vomiting beside a patch of moss.
The fight raged on.
Thorne moved like a storm. His blade cleaved in arcs of silver, each motion deliberate, each strike accompanied by that golden glint in his eyes. His eyes locked not just on the monster, but on its intent. He wasn't just reacting, he was reading it, predicting it. Fighting it like he'd done this a hundred times.
But the creature was fast.
Too fast.
Its claws moved like daggers, and every miss carved grooves into the trees around them. The forest shook. Bark flew in every direction. The ground was torn. Dirt, blood, and shattered branches littered the clearing.
Thorne was bleeding now. Red lines bloomed across his chest and arms, soaking into his tunic. But he didn't slow. If anything, he moved faster.
Corvin forced himself to stand, legs wobbling. He wiped his mouth and reached for his spear with a trembling hand. The torch he set carefully on the ground. His breath came ragged, but he focused.
His eyes fixed on the battle.
He moved around the periphery of the blood soaked battle ground, waiting…
And then…
An opening!
Thorne roared, pushing the creature back just a few paces from Corvin. Its back exposed.
Corvin seized the opportunity.
He lunged.
The spear drove deep into its back. It sank through the patchwork hide, through flesh and sinew, until it struck something solid bone, maybe. Black ichor burst from the wound, hot and thick like tar.
The creature shrieked. It twisted, faster than Corvin could react.
Corvin's pupils dilated
The creature's claw swept sideways in a wild arc and struck him in his left arm.
The world spun.
He flew and slammed into a tree. The crunch echoed like thunder. Something cracked—maybe his ribs, maybe his spine. His vision doubled. He couldn't feel his left arm anymore—until he did, and wished he hadn't. It screamed pain up his neck, across his chest, down to his toes.
He wanted to faint but his mind didn't let him.
He lay on the ground, broken.
He couldn't breathe. His chest rose and fell in a shallow, failing rhythm. His mouth opened but no air came. His eyes rolled in their sockets.
Panic surged.
'I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying,... It hurts so much.'
He tried to move. Nothing responded. The sky above twisted and blurred. The moon seemed to stretch and waver, as though underwater.
Heavy, deliberate. The creature, maybe. Or Thorne. He didn't know. Couldn't tell. All he could feel was the terrible weight in his chest. The ache. The fear.
'Why did I move? Why did I think I could help?'
He wanted to cry, but even that took too much strength.
A sudden brilliance that lit the clearing.
He forced his eyes open.
Thorne stood tall, sword arcing in one final, perfect stroke.
The creature's head flew. Black ichor gushed.
Corvin blinked, hoping it was over.
But something rose.
Smoke.
Black, curling, alive. It hovered above the corpse like thought made flesh. And then…
It moved.
Toward him.
"No—" he tried to say. But the word never left his mouth.
The smoke rushed into his chest like a spear of frost.
Corvin screamed.
His back arched. Every nerve in his body ignited at once, searing pain, unbearable heat and cold all at once. He saw stars behind his eyes. His thoughts shattered like glass.
Then…
Nothing.
Just darkness.