In the morning Elias hurried to get ready. He felt restless and hadn’t slept much during the night. The horses were happy to keep moving and by himself, he didn’t have too much to pack up. The road he traveled was nonexistent. He instead went by feel and the look of the forest as he charted the best way forward. His path had pushed farther and farther away from the destroyed valley.
Elias connected the reigns of Alice’s horse to his own. The pair of horses stayed together and followed his instructions. The forest around him was pale and lifeless. Overgrown roots and spreading branches blocked his path in places. As he travelled his second horse started to drag behind him. The horse pulled at the reigns and slowed at times while taking a while to cross over the more difficult terrain. Elias pulled encouragingly and waited with frustration flashing on his face. He muttered under his breath as the horse would finally keep close by. The back and forth seemed to annoy Thunderstruck as well as the pair fought over the connected reigns. He tugged at the reigns with them trying to get them to ride the right way. It was of little use as he got frustrated.
Thunderstruck pulled on the reigns and the other horse neighed in protest before coming to a stop. The sudden halt startled Elias, and he quickly dismounted Thunderstruck to assess the situation. Approaching the second horse, his brow furrowed in concern. It was unusual for the horse to behave this way; something was wrong. As he reached out to soothe the animal, it collapsed to the ground with a distressing thud, its body giving way under an invisible weight.
Elias's heart sank. He knelt beside the horse, his hands gently examining its body for any visible injuries. The horse’s breath slowed before coming to a stop. Finding none, he opened his saddlebag and retrieved a small knife, his hands steady despite the turmoil within. With a practiced precision, he made a careful incision, exposing the internal organs.
The sight that greeted him was alarming. Dark, corrupted tendrils had spread throughout the horse's insides, a clear sign of a severe infection. Elias felt a wave of sorrow; the corruption had claimed another life. He grimaced and checked a few more spots around the horse.
Standing up, Elias wiped his knife and placed it back into the saddlebag. He grabbed the bag still attached to the dead horse and slung it over his shoulder. Then, he turned his attention back to Thunderstruck, his resolve hardening. He patted Thunderstruck and worked to settle his horse down. He untied the reins that connected Thunderstruck to the deceased horse. His hands were on the saddle when he heard cries in the forest.
Thunderstruck bucked up as Elias noticed the wolves that slid out from the trees. He went for his sword when the first wolf came at him. The blade rose before twisting in its fall to strike between the wolf’s shoulders. The wolf fell to the ground bleeding out as Thunderstruck stomped on it. Elias kept his ears focused on the sounds of the surrounding wolves.
He attacked the nearest living wolf. His focus was on defending. As Elias swung his sword, the metallic ring echoed through the desolate forest, a symphony of desperation and survival. His arms, though weary, moved with a precision born of necessity. The wolves, their eyes glinting with feral hunger, circled him and Thunderstruck, their growls a low, menacing rumble.
Thunderstruck, loyal, and fierce, lashed out with powerful kicks, sending one wolf reeling back with a yelp of pain. But as Elias dispatched another with a swift, clean cut, he saw with a sinking heart that more wolves emerged from the shadows, their numbers seemingly endless. The attacks were desperate but powerful. Each hit sent the wolves back with growing injuries. If they weren’t careful then the blow would end up in their face instead.
The battle turned from offense to defense, from strategy to sheer, desperate survival. Elias fought with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed, his sword a blur of steel as he parried and struck. But the wolves were cunning, coordinating their attacks with chilling efficiency. As he fought Elias felt the missing blade at his side. If Alice was at his side then things may have gone easier. He would have the support of her magic and her blade, able to cut out the corruption more effectively. For the time being he made up the difference with Thunderstruck at his side blocking some of the wolves' advancements.
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Elias stepped back and struck when it was safe. His blade blurred as he attacked. He knew the motions well and flowed through each motion seamlessly. The wolves searched for openings. Their eyes tracked his movements and scanned the sweeps of his blade.
A large, mottled wolf lunged at Thunderstruck, its teeth bared. Elias, his heart pounding, moved to intercept, but not quickly enough. The wolf's jaws clamped down on Thunderstruck's leg, and the horse's agonized neigh pierced the air.
Elias, driven by a surge of protective fury, swung his blade, slicing into the wolf's side. The animal yelped and released its grip, but the damage was done. Bloodstained Thunderstruck's coat and the horse's movements grew labored.
The wolves sensed their advantage and pressed in, their eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. Elias fought with a wild, desperate energy, his blade a dance of death. But the wolves were relentless, and his energy began to wane. A sharp pain shot through his arm as teeth found flesh, and he stumbled, momentarily disoriented.
At that moment, the world seemed to narrow to a single, terrible focus. Thunderstruck, wounded, and struggling, was overwhelmed. Elias's heart clenched with fear and grief. He had to make a decision – a horrible, unthinkable decision.
With a guttural cry of anguish, Elias turned and ran, his feet pounding against the forest floor. The sound of the battle – Thunderstruck's distressed whinnies and the snarls of the wolves – followed him, a haunting chorus of his failure. But survival instinct drove him forward, his mind a blur of pain and panic. He could hear the wolves giving chase, their howls a constant reminder of the danger at his heels. He pushed himself harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him gave way, and he fell. The world spun wildly as he plummeted down a hidden pit, his arms flailing for something to grasp. The fall seemed to last an eternity, a descent into darkness and despair. He landed with a jarring thud, pain exploding through his body. Dazed, he lay there for a moment, trying to make sense of what had happened. The sounds of the battle above were distant now, muffled by the earth between them.
Slowly, painfully, Elias pushed himself up. His body protested every movement, but he forced himself to stand. He was in a narrow pit, the walls steep and seemingly impossible to climb. In the distance, he heard the sounds of the wolf’s howls and Thunderstruck’s whinnies. Feet stomped on the ground shaking the earth. Elias slowed his movements upward and watched the edge of the pit. His ankle ached and was twisted awkwardly. The sounds of the wolves grew distant. He felt his ears ringing and tried to shake it off.
Suddenly a wolf fell, following him into the pit. It was spotted with a few gashes and Elias dodged out of the way as it fell. The beast whimpered in pain. Quickly Elias went for his sword now on the ground, and he quickly put it out of its misery.
Elias swung open his bag checking its contents. The healing gel stashed in the corner had cracked open and was leaking its contents while cushioning his fall. He grabbed what remained of the gel and tore off his boot. The congealing paste slid off his fingers and leg as he did his best to apply it. He winced in pain as he touched the wound.
After Elias dealt with the initial parts of his injury, he scanned the area once more realizing in the grey darkness that the pit was larger than he had initially thought. What he had assumed to be natural rock formations around him was, in fact, carved stone, leading to a series of steps descending further into the darkness. With his heart pounding in his chest, Elias lit a torch, its flickering light casting dancing shadows on the walls. He started walking carefully down the steps, each movement a test of his injured ankle's resilience.
As he descended, the air grew cooler, and the walls of the pit seemed to close in around him. The carved stone was intricate, etched with patterns that spoke of an ancient and forgotten time. Elias's mind raced with questions about who had built this hidden place and for what purpose.
At the end of the steps, he came upon a vast chamber. The torchlight revealed a wall carved with images. Elias paused unsure of what he was seeing.