Novels2Search
A God's Chosen Path
Chapter 5 - Fight

Chapter 5 - Fight

He was running through the woods again, tripping over roots and leafy undergrowth as he attempted to evade pursuit. This time, when he fell over a particularly large root and collapsed, he accidentally dropped his son as his legs gave out. “No…” He couldn’t move. It felt like his entire body had gone limp, like his ability to enact his will upon his own muscles had fled him.

No matter how hard he pushed himself to pick himself up and move, he failed to even inch forward. He was forced to watch, unable to turn away as the dim light of his phone’s flashlight illuminated the beast tearing off his son’s head.

He gasped, rapidly blinking his eyes as he no longer saw the forest around him. His consciousness clawed its way back into the land of the living, and he let out a heavy sigh as he felt reality reestablish its hold over him. He didn’t flail or cry out at the despair he had felt in those final moments of fitful sleep. Nightmares held no sway over him. Not anymore.

What he saw above him was the concave roof of the tree he was presumably still inside of, the azure streaks of crystal striated throughout the granite collapsing in at the apex of the roof. It was beautiful, like watching the ocean crash upon an island of white sand. It seemed intentional, even.

But of course it was intentional. They had taken refuge inside a structure hidden near the top of the tree, after all. To think that this place wasn’t built or crafted in some way would be idiotic, so he took note of what else lay around him. As he turned his mind back to paying attention to his senses, several things made themselves known to him.

For one, he could feel the steady breathing of a small body pressed up against him, and it brought him comfort to know that he had been able to provide a place of refuge for his son during the night. He also felt a dull, burning pain running along the entirety of his body, as it seemed he had pushed his limits in every sense of the idea the previous day.

He felt an overwhelming thirst, despite his escapade last night, which was distressing in and of itself. It meant that he would need to find another source of water, as he imagined the nurse and the girl would need sustenance of both varieties the same as him and Jacob.

It would be best to learn more about both of them though. It seems kinda rude to keep on referring to them as ‘nurse’ or ‘girl’. He looked around himself, finding the two of them curled up on what seemed like a leather couch that had molded to their bodies. She helped save Jacob. It’s the least I could do.

Grunting softly as he eased his bulk off the bed, he stumbled as he found his feet. Whatever newfound strength he had forged or gained previous had fled him, and felt like he used to after a night of heavy drinking. His body was sluggardly, and there might have been a cloud or two floating about in his head, but he didn’t have to squint at any eye-searing lights or wince all over when he heard anything even moderately loud. He would take this over a hangover any day of the week.

Reevaluating himself, he realized he was worse than he originally thought. Maybe the strength he had felt was still with him, and it was the only reason he could even stand. The cut on his arm hadn’t begun to fester with rot quite yet, and he likely owed that to the medical personnel snoring on the couch. What first aid principles that had been applied were unknown to him, but he could tell that a new bandage fashioned from some cloth he didn’t recognize was wrapped around the wound.

Distressingly, there was still a layer of blood that had seeped into the first layers of gauze surrounding the injury, which likely meant the cut was refusing to clot. Examining his legs, the place where he felt the most pain, he saw that there was a deep, ugly purple suffusing the flesh of his lower leg. Primarily around the shin, it seemed that his continuous and over-strenuous running had resulted in something far worse than he had imagined. But it was worth it.

He smiled as he glanced back towards Jacob lying in the pelts of the bed he had fallen into, his attention focusing on the fact that the bed had animal pelts in the first place. What kind of decor is this? He had felt, as he was getting up, that the ‘mattress’, for lack of a better term, was not composed of springs and foam. Instead, it had felt like there was a fine down contained in a cloth enclosure, with some sort of internal support structure that he couldn’t place. It wasn’t steel, he had felt that for sure.

Glancing around the rest of the room, acknowledging that there was more room to discover, he found surprisingly little. Looking at the room from the perspective he had gotten when the door had first opened.

On the left side of the room, there were roughly-hewn wooden cabinets, containing dusty dinnerware made from the same wood. The cream color, alongside the relatively smooth grain pattern, indicated it to be maple wood. Likely taken from a section of the forest he was still sitting in.

They extended to about halfway across the space, until they ended with what seemed like a granite sink. Sink? Is that an apt description? It kind of feels more like a small tub. There was no drain in the little stone bowl, nor a spout from which water could flow forth. It was rectangular, and held perfectly chiseled edges that indicated it was far more of a masterclass on craftsmanship compared to the wood of the cabinets.

The disparity in the quality between the two items made him think that it was possible two different people had lived here and made furniture, but the small double bed shoved into the back corner on the right-hand side of the door didn’t indicate that to be the case. Only one person then.

One incredibly bad at carpentry, but flawlessly skilled with stonework. The sink was a thing of beauty, with lines of chiseled stone made to form a basin in which to wash anything you could want. Is it still a sink if there’s no way to drain what’s inside? But, if it’s not a sink, then what is it? It could have easily belonged in a sculptor’s portfolio of finished masterworks, and he finally realized that pondering on the sink was likely a waste of time.

It spawned another question, however. Why would they use shitty cabinetry if they can make stone structures like this one? He shrugged, thinking that it was a pointless exercise regardless. Scanning the rest of the room, he found it to be smaller than he had originally thought. On the right side sat the bed and a small dresser. On the left were the cabinets, a granite countertop with wooden stools underneath it for seating, and the sink right next to it all. A small couch, as he originally assessed to be leather, sat just past that, the small shapes of the two strangers

The space was probably only fifteen to twenty feet long, and just under ten feet wide. The roof was close to his head, to the point that if he pushed himself, he could likely slam his head into the ceiling from jumping. At the far end sat a small desk, one that had two feet firmly planted on the smooth stone floor while the back half of its granite surface seamlessly melded into the wall. Another poorly made seat, this one closer to an actual chair rather than a stool, rested against the lip of the desk.

It felt lived in, from what he could tell. There was no dust, no scent of decay or must from air left unmoving. And that told him that he could possibly meet the creator of the abode soon enough. Whether or not that would be considered breaking and entering would be dependent on the person who owned this tree.

Looking at the couch once more, he took note of the two people sleeping there. Curled up in a small ball against the nurse with her arms wrapped around the older woman, the young girl looked to be the same age as Jacob. She had copper-red hair, in a small wave covering her face. This meant he couldn’t discern her facial features whatsoever, but he would bet money that she had an overabundance of freckles just about everywhere.

Her clothes, while ragged, indicated that she lived a fairly normal lifestyle back home. The only thing that stuck out was the lack of a jacket on her body, and some Vans-adjacent knock-off shoes that were not ideal for trekking through their current forest environment.

Observing the nurse she was holding, he saw a haggard woman, likely worn from yesterday’s events. He didn’t know what she had experienced prior to his meeting her, but he knew that the physical exertion climbing had put upon both of them was a toll neither should’ve paid. She had the slightest hints of gray in her otherwise black hair, which was tied back into a ponytail.

He didn’t know if it was appropriate to think of her this way, but he could honestly say that she was beautiful. Her skin was a lighter ochre, with full lips and thick eyebrows. What makeup she had been wearing was smudged, and it seemed that she had attempted to wipe off what remained on her face. Even without it, she was gorgeous. Considering her to be attractive while she was unconscious was making him uncomfortable, so he quickly shut that thought out of his mind.

As gently as he could, he shook the nurse awake with a hand on the shoulder. With a sharp intake of air, she sat upright, slowing down when she remembered that shifting her position on the leather would wake the small girl nestled against her. “How’d you sleep?” She shook her head as the clouds of her dreams filtered out of her awareness.

“Fine.” She scratched her head, wincing as she stretched her arms above her head. “Uh, I have to say, before anything else, thank you. I don’t know what that thing was out there, but it scared me shitless.” Looking down, she gently stroked the girl’s head as the small child curled up tighter against her. Maybe she wasn’t asleep. “Penelope had a hard time yesterday. I don’t know where her grandma is, but she kept crying when I said I didn’t know where she was. I feel lost here.”

Looking around, she craned her head and only seemed to settle down when saw that Jacob was fine as well. “Jacob told me about what you guys saw out there, but he had a hard time being specific about what the ‘monster’ was. Got any idea on what it was?” A little disgruntled that his son had obviously opened up to this stranger, he calmed down when remembered that he had been unconscious for the entirety of the time spent likely calming both children down.

“I have… no clue. It wasn’t an animal I recognized, and God as my witness, I would swear on that thing having some kind of shadow magic or some other bullshit. Hell, I coulda sworn that thing was intelligent when I looked into its eyes, and I probably put a hefty dose of fear into the thing when I just about broke its jaw.” He described cracking the branch across its face and what he had seen of the beast, and she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah no, I don’t really see why it didn’t chase either of us though. Wouldn’t it have outrun you? I know for a fact that I’m nowhere near in shape enough to escape a predator that size.” It brought back a question to him, one he had thought about the entire time he had been climbing the tree. It never showed up, and I still don’t know why. A thing that size would have jumped after us and killed us all with relative ease. Was it a pack animal, waiting for the rest of its family?

The nurse coughed to get his attention, seeing as he had let his mind wander for a moment. “I’m Elena. It’d be nice to know the name of the man that saved our lives.” “Huh, yeah sorry. I just got caught up in the whole, ya know. Uh, urgency of the situation, I guess. Name’s David.” He proffered a hand, realized that she couldn’t reach him from her seated position, and stepped forward to make it possible. He laughed as he shook her hand, and she chuckled at his mistake at the same time.

“Did you see her grandmother out there? I know that it would have been hard to survive on her own, but I think it’s possible she’s still ok.” Her voice lowered in volume and tone, perhaps hoping that the solemnity of her statement wouldn’t be heard by the girl in her arms. She glanced down at Penelope, the tangle of red hair snuggled up against her.

She really must be feeling anxious to be hugging her so tightly. He leveled a stare towards Elena until they made eye contact, slowly shaking his head as he did so. That was when he finally noticed her eyes, sparkling pieces of amber that glinted in the reflection of her tears. The crow’s feet around her eyes tightened in emotion.

“Oh.” She held Penelope tighter, showing an amount of affection that David couldn’t personally afford for the girl. He felt sorry, deeply so. That she had lost someone that important to her was the kind of injustice that was all too commonplace in a reality like theirs. His mind was consumed with thoughts of survival and protection for all of them, a responsibility he felt the need to take on now that he knew the people behind the silhouettes he had seen before.

They were individuals now, not just helpers in his efforts to save his son. “Thank you, Elena. I don’t know whether or not infection is already setting in on this thing, but you did a bang-up job getting actual bandages on there. I think our best bet is leaving right now and finding someone to help, as I don’t see myself driving off that thing a second time. Give me a bit to check our surroundings, and I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re climbing again? With those injuries? I would be stupid to let you just waltz off and die while trying to see if there’s a way out of this.” She glared at him, her tone brooking no argument. “I’m sorry miss, I really am. But, I have to try. And if it turns out that there’s no safe way down, I might as well get some practice and warm-up at the same time.”

With this, he walked towards the door, surprised to find that there was an internal door knob as opposed to the sleek surface of the constructed portal on the outside. Blind as always, I see. Turning to Elena on the couch, David gave what he hoped was a comforting smile. She looked more worried and concerned at his departure than ever. Dad always said my grin was more disconcerting than it was reassuring.

As he went to say one more pithy statement sure to reassure the anxious nurse, he could hear Penelope begin to cry in the woman’s arms. Either she had heard Elena’s question, or she was still saddened by her Grandma’s absence, it didn’t matter to him. Darting away from the noise, he turned the smooth stone of the handle on the door and stepped out into a rushing current of wind on the doormat branch from before.

With no assistance on his part, the door heavily impacted back into the frame of the tree, the transition from open gateway to marble wall happening in an instant. Well. Probably should’ve checked if they could still hear me before I bailed. Psyching himself up for more self-inflicted torture, he set to work.

Pain was more of a constant friend now than an occasional enemy, as he knew its presence meant that he could still feel his body. It would have been more concerning if he had lost the sensation, so he decided to treat it as his little reminder that he could still feel. To feel alive. He moved further up the sloping line, the cold metal of his necklace having gone unnoticed until the wind chilled its chains. He had almost forgotten about it in all this hustle and bustle.

The reminder gave him pause, and he thought about his current situation with a broader view in mind. What he put together made him uneasy, which wasn’t great for climbing efforts. He prayed as he climbed, hoping with every last fiber of his being that the effort he was putting in was worth it. There I go again. What, I thought we were done with empty pleas to a greater power? Get over yourself man.

With every inch of height he gained as he shoved his fingers into the groove of the tree, he marveled at his body. Without any stops to lift other people up, in spite of the aches across his whole body, and besides the fat of his belly impeding his progress as he moved, he fairly flew up the tree. Ten feet, twenty, thirty, he didn’t stop until he had doubled the original distance he had climbed the night before.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he ascended. There had been many times in his life where he had scoffed at people searching for a rare surge of hormones throughout their body as the exhilaration of a life threatening feat was completed. It had always seemed idiotic to put your life on the line because your dopamine receptors were burnt out and you could only feel a rush when certain death was on the line. Now, he wasn’t so sure he could fault those people. It was wonderful to feel the exhilaration of accomplishing something that previously seemed categorically impossible for him.

Looking down, fingers and feet wedged in the slit, he saw that the length of tree past him made the giant he sat on easily a couple hundred feet tall. It made him wonder why he hadn’t acknowledged that the tree was this tall until now. Previously, he had stared up into the array of starry leaves glowing amidst stone appendages and wondered where it ended.

Now, he realized that the behemoth held a veritable ocean of leaves and branches past what he previously observed, and it was beautiful. Still, how was this not plainly obvious before? I coulda sworn we almost reached the top when we got to the room.

He looked down for the particularly large branch that he had started this journey from, only to realize that the winding nature of the groove he was almost certain was a staircase had brought him to the other side of the trunk. He stared in disbelief, wondering how the fear of his current predicament and overall situation wasn’t overwhelming him. He was doing the most dangerous thing he had done in his relatively short life, and he could only feel a sense of accomplishment as he crested the final portion of the climb.

The groove leveled out in slope, coming to a straight line at the end much in the same way that it had at the small home below. He hoisted himself up and over, standing on a perfectly even slab of stone. It was the same granite streaked with platinum white and electric blue, but it was far smoother than the rest of the tree.

If this wasn’t a man-made building made to resemble the rest of the forest, to at least a certain extent, he would eat his left shoe. Why would anyone threaten to do that anyway? What’s the point? It doesn’t really show sincerity, considering that no one in the history of ever has gone through with that promise.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Walking closer to the edge of the platform, it being ringed by a multitude of branches raising their hands to the heavens, he momentarily lost his breath in wonder. Stretching out for countless miles around him, he could tell that the forest he stood in was bigger than he had originally estimated. The wind whipped at his face as he leaned farther out, any fear of the heights removed from the grip he felt on the stone he held.

Practically from horizon to horizon, trees of a myriad of varieties raised their limbs in supplication to a firmament above, perhaps levying their own prayers for rainfall to some god of this world. For it confirmed a lingering doubt he had held in his heart till now. There was no shot he was looking at a forest from earth. From gargantuan pillars of wood stretching taller than his current stony seat to the east, to the sea of the emerald canopies stretching to the west, nothing like this existed on Earth.

The sky was filled with cumulonimbus clouds, the puffy kind that look like wool stretched across an azure expanse. The sun glared out early morning light, casting everything in deep shadow where it didn’t light up the forest. Birds, with species he didn’t recognize due to not truly being educated on them, flew to and fro amongst the boughs of the trees beneath him. Their presence hadn’t been known the previous night, but now they tended to their normal business going from each forest to the next. Performing bird-like activities, he assumed. He wasn’t ready to assume that was the case, however.

His breath was taken at the sights before him, and he wondered at the natural beauty afforded by the view he currently had. The forest he stood in didn’t compare to the two he could see, but it made him curious as to whether or not the blending of these ecosystems was entirely natural. It seemed highly unlikely that an environment filled with several hundred foot tall trees for miles could be supported, nutrient-wise, if there was an entire forest of even more trees right next to it. Is that how forests work? I guess I’m not as educated as I thought. Questions for another day, perhaps.

He imagined that the forest of giants was similar to a sequoia forest back home, but he would be stupid to assess that the trees he could see were anything like redwoods or sequoias. They were akin to skyscrapers made out of organic material, and they were a sight to behold. Looking around once more, taking note that there was a swath of plains to the far north that looked to be massive in scale, he noticed one particular sight that made his trip worth it.

His prayers, as pitiful as they had been in the moment, were answered. Almost directly beneath him, likely only a mile away from his current position to the south, sat a line of trees that had been cleared away. Cleared for a rough dirt path that stretched through the forest, curving around obstacles in a loosely river-like shape far off into the distance of the south. On it sat one, solitary cart moving at a snail’s pace. People!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wagon trundled along the dirt road, bumping into every obstacle imaginable. This meant it was a rough experience on the inside of the walls of the vehicle, making any occupants jolt up in the air every other second due to the lack of cushioning. The man driving the vehicle was a sun-bleached fellow with tough skin tanned by long decades in the sun, his body adorned by home-spun clothing made from the wool of the skaep he tended to. He snacked on cheese made from the milk of his gjid, ones that Osbeort had personally been able to pet.

To say that his bottom was sore was an understatement, but he still let the grin of adventure show its face every moment he could. He was glad to be out for once in his shut-in life, glad to be surrounded by people he could consider his friends. Glad to be on an adventure of sorts with people he liked, even if most of them were servants.

The splintering wood underneath his gambeson would be quite annoying if he could feel it, but luckily he was spared the sensation by the thick leather he wore across his body. Kitted out in what he hoped was the average hunter’s attire, he wished that his efforts at going unnoticed amongst the common folk bore fruit. That isn’t truly feasible though. By Ganeshk, I paid the man in silver. Silver! I saw his eyes just about pop out of his loose skin when I tried to show it to him “discreetly”.

Beating on himself for his follies was all well and good, but now wasn’t the time nor place. “Mildred, when should we be arriving at the dvaken’s burrow?” “Allow me to check, my lord.” He could hear the awkward shuffling of pages behind him as she flipped to the appropriate entry in the large manual set between her legs. “The request states that the beast’s location is ‘in a large rock set into the leeward side of a hill, approximately three leagues north-northwest of the road traveling through the Myrios Woods’. Leeward in this case meaning east, my lord.”

“Isn’t that just exciting? We’ll finally be accomplishing something of import for once! I imagine a dvaken that close to the road must be causing issues for the caravans that pass by? We’ll be helping the community.” He tried to keep his accent under control, as he knew that some of those in the wagon would comment on his educated mannerisms if he didn’t try to camouflage them in some way. He had heard Mildred refer to it as being “overly posh” when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, but that didn’t matter to him in the slightest. “I wouldn’t consider that close to the road at all, my lord.” Aside from Mildred’s acerbic comment, the cart remained desolate of sound. All save the rough grinding of cloth and leather against wood.

Of the half dozen people present, she was likely the only one he would consider an actual friend, despite the hopes he held for the others. He was currently in a group of six, heading out to kill a monster far above his rank. He had four servants with him, which he despised calling them but they insisted he maintain that relationship of master and servant between them, and one outsider. Edwin, closer to a surly teenager than actual adult, had been the prudent voice in the back of Osbeort’s mind as they had set out for the commission. He had insisted on the man’s presence, as he was a certified quartz rank hunter.

The wagon’s occupants were Bertram, a man in his forties with a penchant for arson despite trying to break the habit. Ainsley, an elf that usually preferred being a hermit over actually performing her duties. Edwin, the aforementioned teenager with a strict moral code that he attempted to adhere to. Mildred, his best friend and educated manager of his daily tasks. Lord Osbeort Suthpele, his own distinguished self that was currently obsessed with going unnoticed. And finally, Bishop.

The last person was a stranger to their occasionally merry band, as the only words that had come out of the man’s mouth were “yes” and “Bishop” so far. Both had been responses to Osbeort’s request for assistance on the commission and his request for the man’s name, although Bishop seemed to be something more akin to a title than a name in the young lord’s opinion. He was also peculiar in that he was covered, from head-to-toe, in a rust red armor that seemed awfully underwhelming in the morning light.

It was a fitted set of armor, one that covered him head to toe in protection. The helmet he wore, one that he had yet to take off, was bird-like in construction. It had a wide, pointed beak of a faceguard, a piece of metal that extended past the man’s eyebrows down to his mouth. The slit of a visor it held didn’t reveal any of the man’s facial features, and the rest of the helmet was a dented ball of clay-colored steel. It didn’t even make sound as the man jostled about, the armor composed of overlapping sections split into plates across his body. The design left few weak points

Osbeort wasn’t sure if that’s what the armor was made from, as both the make and material of the set was left suspect. If anything, the style seemed closer to the paintings he had seen of battle priests from Kriguerra and their official military equipment. But, despite his questions, the man had stayed silent and still throughout their already long-winded journey. He had even more burning questions about the hunk of metal crudely shaped into a hammer by the man’s side, but he had let them quiet in the back of his mind. No need to bother the man any further. Just thank Devkrina he even agreed in the first place.

Their request had almost been denied before Bishop had joined the team, and it was only Edwin’s advice that had let the bronze team take on the assignment. They were still trundling along the dusty road when he felt something flare up in his attention. He could feel, in his mind’s eye, that somewhere ahead of them, likely only third of a league out, a cloud of shadow mana unfurled in the surroundings of the forest.

A ball of fur, sleeping in the nook of his arm held against his crossbow, perked its fluffy ears at the same time that he sensed the shadow mana. “Ah ah ah little guy. You know you have to stay with the cart. Isn’t that right, my little toe bean?” He petted underneath his scruff, the cat’s tongue flicking out and scratching his fingers.

A sudden shifting of the weight of the cart unbalanced him, and he startled at the sensation as he watched Bishop launch out of the vehicle. He sailed a good dozen feet through the air before impacting in the forest surrounding the road. He hefted his slab of rough metal on his shoulder, and instantly blazed off into the woods without a word. His shifting form, the rusty hue of his armor almost providing camouflage in the shade of the trees, disappeared into the distance almost immediately.

“How is he that fast?” Osbeort questioned. No answers were readily available for him from the still quiet cart, so he urged the farmer to pick up the pace. A crack of the reins against the neck of the chevest attached to the vehicle, and the cart slowly began to accelerate after the armored figure that had already disappeared into the distant foliage..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

David had managed to get everyone down the tree in a reversal of the method he had used to get up it. It was a bit easier, as at many points he could simply jump down to the next branch to receive everyone as they dropped off the previous one. Many times as the children fell, they would giggle and beg to do it again, at which Elena could tell that he was only happy to oblige. As they worked their way down each branch, the impact of falling shocking her every time it happened, she felt her hunger and thirst grow.

Once they reached the gravel, she heard Penelope’s shy voice ask David a question. “Mr. David? Can I use the bathroom?” He seemed startled at the question, his glistening forehead covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout. “Of course, sweetie. Have Miss Elena take you to the other side of the tree, and me and Jacob will take care of our business over here, alright?” Penelope nodded, and wrapped her small hand around Elena’s fingers. She held on with a tightness that told her everything she needed to know about the girl’s experience with adults.

I promise I won’t abandon her. I’ll swear on that. She gave a silent prayer that their restless spirits would find comfort in her promise to take care of the girl, hoping that the afterlife treated them well. She wasn’t sure if Penelope had understood what David and Elena were talking about earlier, but Elena knew for a fact that anyone that had ever provided care for the girl were gone now. Penelope had told her that it had been a couple years since she had last seen her parents, some of her first memories being when they left her alone with her grandmother.

For both of them to never show up in the girl’s life, let alone leave her grandmother as the sole provider indicated that something terrible had happened. Elena chose to believe that they were dead rather than dead-beat, praying that circumstance had forced them away from the girl. After helping Penelope with her needs, while also taking care of her own, she met back up with David.

David… was not an attractive man. His face was kind of smushed, like he had taken to sleeping on concrete for his beauty rest. His nose was squat and pushed back, large and red to the rest of his pale white face. A large mouth and somewhat small eyes made his facial proportions feel out of control, and his exaggerated widow’s peak was not doing him any favors.

He had a cross necklace resting on the exposed skin at the top of his windbreaker’s zipper, and torn-up jeans that had seen better days. All in all, he was a bit of a mess, which is why it was so surprising that his son was adorable. A little button nose, bright blonde hair to his dad’s dull brown, his eyes a deep navy blue to his father’s sickly green. He was just downright cute. Of course, I’m being too harsh on David here. He’s a wonderful man for all that he’s done.

He had put forth more effort into saving her and Penelope than he had any right to. Maybe he viewed the task of getting his son to safety as being far more difficult alone, but she could tell that he would have been able to manage it. Checking that everyone was good to go, David signaled which direction they should go with a finger. I guess we’re trying to be quiet now.

Whatever the thing that had been out the night previous was, it had seemed to her that it would be nocturnal, considering the time of its attack. It seemed highly unlikely that it would be stalking them even now, considering the early morning hours and its refusal to chase them down when they got to the tree late last night. They moved through the underbrush of the forest floor, heading to a road David had spotted from atop the tree. Elena had been taken aback that the man had climbed what he had described as “a couple hundred feet” of tree to find that out, but she had seen what he was capable of the night before.

To say that she wasn’t grateful would be outrageous. She felt an outpouring of gratitude for the man’s assistance and presence in her life, and she thanked God once more for his blessings. Blessed are you, Lord God. Blessed are you for ever. Holy is your name…

They had moved maybe a quarter of a mile away from the tree when she felt the hair all over her body rise in sudden wariness. She had goosebumps all across her arms, as if she were watching a particularly scary horror flick after turning all the lights in her house off. Something, undeniably, was watching her. David could feel it as well, seeing as he stopped to crouch next to his son as he whispered gently in his ear.

Out of the corner of her eye, right at the edge of her vision, she saw a shadow wobble as something stepped out from it. It was a lithe creature, a body seemingly made from onyx darkness moving underneath the foliage around them. None of its features was distinct, the only clear sign that it was the same beast from before being the shining purple pits of hatred directed at them. It was stalking them, close enough to pounce at any moment. She knew then. That if it chose to attack either of the children, they would be dead in an instant. And she didn’t hold out much hope for herself either.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” David’s voice was hard to hear, coming as a whisper from where he stood in front her. He hadn’t turned his head at all, opting instead to continue moving forward like nothing had happened. Picking up after him, she moved along with Penelope’s hand once again held tightly in hers. “Yeah. What do we do? Do we make a break for it? I can’t run for shit, and it looks like that thing is faster than either of us.”

“I might have to go with something drastic. Just know that if I choose to stay behind and fight, the last thing I want to see is you still standing around. Got it?” She swallowed back her retort, afraid that her own resolve to follow through on something that stupid would crumble if she resisted. “Yes.” “Good.” He grumbled something under his breath that sounded more angry and spiteful than she was expecting from him, before he locked his gaze ahead once more.

“We start running when I say go. Jacob, do you promise to be a good boy for daddy?” Looking up in confusion, his son nodded when he saw his father’s serious expression. “I got it dad. Promise.” “Good. If only mom could see ya now bud. Look at how grown up you are. It almost brings a tear to your old man’s eyes.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, a look of genuine happiness written on his features. “Go.”

Turning in the dirt of the forest, David roared as he rushed towards where Elena had last seen the beast. Picking up Jacob as she ran with Penelope’s hand in hers, she couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes. A cry of indignation and despair accompanied the ocean of pitch black that covered her senses.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From one moment to the next, it was like David had dived into the depths of the sea. No light made its way to his eyes, and he fought blind. It was convenient then, that the monster had chosen to begin its meal at the meat of his arm rather than his vital organs. He had pushed forward with his left arm as a meat shield, on the off-chance that the beast would choose for an openly vulnerable target rather than the rest of his body.

His gambit had paid off, and he was currently holding back the screams he felt boiling in the back of his throat as he felt muscle and sinew crushed between the grind his bones. The mouth of the creature was elongated, to the point that the barest front portion of its snout was latched onto his arm. It was currently jerking its head back and forth, likely trying to rip his arm out of his socket rather than let such easy prey go.

He had taken to beating the ever-loving shit out of the beast’s face, a task made easy by the fact that it was attached to him. Punch after punch wailed on the monster’s more delicate facial features, resulting in low growls that he could feel throughout his body. He continued slugging it, despite the awkward positioning and his lack of sight. He thought out his inner monologue in time with the bone-shattering impacts of flesh on flesh. You! Will! Not! Have! My! Son!

He felt the distinct crack of bone breaking as made headway in killing the monster. Whether it was from him or the beast, it mattered not. With a yowl of rage, probably accompanied by more baleful stares of rage-fueled hatred, the creature finally let his arm go. The bloody mess of stringy muscle fibers hanging limply from his forearm looked more akin to a factory accident than it did a wound. He marveled at the lack of pain in that moment, all too aware that when the adrenaline wore off he would be sobbing like a newborn.

Wait a minute. I can see again. It was a new development, likely brought about from his efforts to reconstruct the beast’s head to a shape that accommodated his fist. It slouched against a tree, blood dribbling from a number of abrasions all across the fur covering its bear-like skull. It stared at him in undisguised rage, a human emotion that made David uncomfortable to see. This thing might be sapient. Which made it even more disgusting it was seeking his son’s demise.

He spit at the creature, hoping that provoking it would continue to draw its ire. Knowing it was likely more than enough, he turned to watch his son escape, hoping that he had made it far enough to matter. He saw nothing, the shapes of his erstwhile companions gone in the numerous tree trunks surrounding him. I’m glad. And, sorry bud. I love you with all my heart, got it? I’ll miss you, ya goofball.

He almost closed his eyes like he was a character in a movie, accepting his death with stoicism and aplomb. Right as he was about to do so, he saw a flicker of movement in the direction that he sent the group. Confused, he stared in bewilderment as the form of a figure dressed in full armor bulldozed its way into the copse of trees they found themselves in.

The armored man, for it seemed unlikely any woman was well over six feet tall, rocketed forward with enough speed to make some cars jealous. He moved towards the jumping body of the menace that had stalked David for what seemed like forever. In a swift movement filled with grace, belying the incredible weight that the hunk of iron the man wielded, he crushed the creature in a single swing.

An overhead chop down, with enough force to make the earth buck underneath his feet, and the forest fell dead silent. The man had arrived in the blink of an eye, and in the same instant as he had appeared, he had plastered the body of the creature across every visible surface. Not a single trunk was spared the viscera of the beast, a sickly red staining the bark and ground for dozens of feet around them.

The hammer he wielded had moved through his opponent as if he had only hit air, the body parting as if an inexorable force of judgment had split it in twain. The blood covering the knight–David having a hard time coming up with another name for him–seemed to blend in with the rusty metal, a natural sheen of its favorite liquid returning to the armor’s surface.

David stared on in awe, amazed at what he had seen. It went beyond normal reasoning to expect this kind of outcome against what had obviously been a magical beast. But this? This man had to be superhuman. A power beyond comprehension. It was astonishing, especially considering his own efforts against the creature’s tough hide.

The man spared only a glance for trees covered in blood around him, a quick look at David, and then a reorientation towards his previous location, wherever that may be. He stopped a moment at seeing David’s attire, at least he assumed, before the armored man did a double-take. He stared at David once more, his attention resting on one thing in particular. The cross sitting on his bare chest was covered in blood like the rest of him, but its symbol was still clear all the same.

Almost as if a switch had gone off in the knight’s mind, he could feel a shifting in the man’s attitude. It felt like David could physically feel a smile radiating off the man, replacing the indifference he had felt before. Then, more surprising than anything else, he heard a tinny voice from inside the helm. It was gruff and stilted, as if the person hadn’t spoken the language in many years. In rough English, discernible despite the difficulty of hearing him, the knight sounded out a few choice words. “My name. Is. Bishop. Yours?”

In delight, David offered his blood-soaked appendage, the slight sheen of misted guts making his grip slippery against the cold metal of the armor. “David. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter