An unearthly roar shook the forest below, resonating among trembling leaves in the canopy above, sending roosting birds into a panicked flight.

Brent’s breath hitched in his chest as the form of a massive beast crossed the horizon and into view. It was far away, but moved with an unnatural speed, growing increasingly clearer as the moments passed. A bear ripped through the forest; its hulking body ricocheting off of trees as it carelessly ran forward, its massive paws dug into the ground as it forced its way through the thicker portions of the dense bush.

He had seen a creature like this once before many years prior, dead and strapped to the bed of an uncovered wagon, it was paraded through the city by a group of returning Knights after a successful subjugation. His father called it a magical beast, a flame bear, that it had ventured uncharacteristically far north, and had been threatening the small farming villages surrounding Restow.

Magical beasts were creatures capable of harnessing mana naturally and infusing it directly into their flesh. Old men would often tell stories of epic battles between man and magical beasts. How land was torn asunder, and entire seas were created in their wake. Songs were sung around the Solstice every year about the otherworldly abilities the strongest magical beasts could wield. Creatures that could stop time, or cheat death itself. Brent enjoyed these stories and would listen quietly, secure in his knowledge that they were just tales meant to entertain the younger children.

His father had told him that in reality the raw materials one could harvest from a magical beast’s body were extremely sought after. Remarkable weaponry and armor could be created without the need for Magicite infusion. For instance, flame bears, named after the crimson color of their pelt, were enormous creatures with fur that possessed a natural resistance to heat and skin that was incredibly thick and resilient to uninfused strikes. Because of their monstruous value, most magical beasts had been culled from the country by mercenaries seeking riches, with the rest being forced into far-off uninhabited lands like the wilds in the South.

The creature trampling through the forest now was far from the grandiose trophy kill he’d seen as a child.

Tainted patches of black skin glistened with moisture where crimson fur should have been on the beast's back. Lumbering steps moved with frantic energy as they pushed through the forest, directly toward Brent and his sister below.

Another roar blasted into the air, snapping Brent from his awed shock.

Run. He thought. They had to run.

Brent's legs were trembling, and his feet slipped against the branch he stood on. Clammy hands desperately reached back, gripping the wide trunk of the tree behind him.

"Brent! What’s going on?" Emily's voice, shrill and panicked, rang out from beneath where he stood. “Where are you?”

"E-Emily!" Brent looked down to see his sister cowering against the trunk of the tree he had been hiding in; their base at the start of the game.

"I'm coming down!" He shouted, and turned to face the tree, eyes desperately scanning the trunk for handholds and steps down. His breath grew increasingly ragged as he began a rushed descent. It had been a relatively easy climb up; the tree was old with plenty of scars and insect-drilled holes to grip, but now the trunk felt dangerously smooth. Every handhold he reached for felt loose. Every foothold was on the verge of crumbling. Rough bark chaffed angrily against his skin and beads of blood percolated through the hemp cloth of his tanned shirt, staining bright red.

Moments passed in this way. Brent’s breath came hot and fast, as the sound of pounding earth from behind grew louder in his ears.

Jumping the last meter or so Brent landed hard on his feet. His legs felt fatigued and wobbled, faltering, sending him hard to the ground. He looked over his shoulder toward the sound of the charging beast. He couldn’t see anything from here, but the sound of branches snapping echoed in the silence of the world around him. “What’s going on?” Emily said as she ran up to Brent, tears filling her eyes. “What is that?” She grabbed his arm, eyeing the bright red spots percolating on his chest beneath his shirt.

“I couldn’t find you, and there were these loud sounds?” She whimpered, her voice becoming small and unsure. Brent grabbed her hands with his and pulled himself to his feet, wincing at a sharp pain flaring to life in his ankle.

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“Come on, we have to go now!”

He didn’t have much time for thought. Every moment that passed was another moment closer to the stampeding death rushing toward them. He pulled Emily roughly by the arm, dragging her into a clumsy run. Brent’s mind raced. He knew these woods fairly well. His expedition last year had involved covering a large swath of land, surveying for tracks, and notable habitats. It had been his responsibility to take notes, and plot out their route to show to the officials in charge of the culling. There was no way he would be able to outrun a flame bear, not by himself, and definitely not with Emily in tow. He had to hide. He turned away from the dirt path which led to the main route back to Noddem, and rushed deeper into the woods of Glades Grove. Last year he had been caught in a sudden rainstorm while out scouting for tinder, and had taken shelter in a small cave near a cliff face off of the main path. It had been a shallow shelter, but elevated, giving him a reprieve from the rain long enough for the sky to clear.

He had to hope it was as close as he remembered. He had to hope he could reach it in time, and he had to hope the Flame Bear wouldn’t follow behind. It was an awful lot of hoping, but he had no choice.

They made swift progress navigating through the thick bush, and their pace was only quickened by the innumerable sounds that permeated a forest. Every scurrying animal or shifting branch sent a jolt of panic down Brent’s back. His hand lingered on the pommel of the short sword tied to his thigh as he ran, offering a reassuring coolness in the heat of the day. They sprinted at first, panic and fire in his stomach allowed Brent to practically carry Emily for a while, but after some time his lungs burned hot, and his pace slowed. The cracking snap of branches sounded far off in the distance now and came less frequently than before. The flame bear had been charging in a straight line, seemingly manic in its pace and now that they had left its direct path, Brent hoped it would continue on its mad dash far away from the two. To her credit, Emily did her best to keep up, but at his full height Brent was nearly a meter taller, and his legs ached to cover ground quickly. She flagged behind, seeming to trip over every exposed root. Slipping on every piece of fallen foliage rotting on the forest floor.

Sweat-matted hair clung to his forehead and between the swaying branches in the canopy above he could see the sun sitting high in a cloudless sky. It was past noon now, but they weren't expected to come home for hours yet. No one would be coming to their rescue. No one even knew they were in trouble. Brent and Emily were staying in Noddem for the week with their Aunt Margaret. His Aunt Margaret was a commander of a Knight's Garrison within Restow. A position she earned through ruthlessness and wit, or so Brent liked to assume. Margaret was a powerful woman, but perhaps just as importantly, she was an accomplished bureaucrat when needed. A trip to build strong rapport with the fledgling Knights Guild in Noddem was suggested, and Margaret was chosen by the Restow Guild to take command, leading some fifteen Knights into Noddem proper. They offered training and strategic advice, hoping to sow seeds to be reaped in the future when Noddem reached its full potential. Brent jumped at the prospect of another adventure and quickly convinced Margaret to take him along. Emily, still bitter about being left behind during his trip the year before, used wiles only the spoiled niece of a doting aunt could possess, and managed to secure a spot in the end as well. Margaret had told them to stay within an hour of Noddem, knowing it was futile to try and curb Brent's desire for exploration completely. It had only taken a little bit of older brother coercion to convince Emily to ignore that rule. Promising her the adventure she missed out on the year before. They left quietly in the morning and excitedly walked the few hours it took to reach Glades Grove.

"Where..where are we going?" Emily managed to say between panting gasps of air.

Brent slowed again, stopping to take a moment to catch his own ephemeral breath, and turned towards his sister for the first time since they had started running.

"There's a.." Brent hesitated, his sister's face was caked in sweat and dirt, gouged by streaks of long dried tears. I'm an idiot, he thought. His sister was mature for her age, but a nine-year-old girl could only take so much confusion without crumbling.

"There's a big animal coming this way, I saw it from up in the tree." He pointlessly wiped a bit of dirt from her face and flashed a weak grin. "We're just going to wait a little while in a cave I used the last time I was here until it goes home, okay?"

Emily searched his eyes for a moment, doubt sweeping across her face. "Okay… It's a scary animal, right?"

Brent grabbed her hand, it felt fragile, trembling slightly within his own. He turned and started walking again, keeping her hand in his. "A little, but it'll go home soon, and then we can go back to Aunt Margaret."

Emily said nothing. She squeezed his hand a bit harder before letting go and redoubling her pace behind him.

Soon dense forest gave way to sparse woods, which were slowly being crept upon by craggy moors. In the cleared distance Brent could see a cliff face jutting high into the sky. They had made it. He had remembered the path from last year. In a few moments they would be hidden away, the danger would pass and he would get Emily home safe and sound. “Look, we’re almost there!” Brent said while rushing ahead. He slowed again soon after, the excitement and relief in his chest replaced by a knot forming in his stomach. As he drew closer to the rocky cliff ahead, dozens of meters of sheer stone filled his view.

There were no caves here. There was no safety. He had led them to nothing.

Another roar shook the air, closer than before, and Brent shook with it.