The girl was limp under Tyvno’s arm as he leapt through the canopy of tree limbs looming over the flooded swamp. He didn’t know why the Darkness wanted her, but it told him that if he fulfilled this request, he would be granted even more power. Power he desperately needed to keep going in his current form. Yet, something felt odd about the girl, he’d sensed it even as he neared the cabin earlier. The Energy surrounding her was palpable. But it wasn’t his place to question her importance, and so he escorted her as quickly through the swamp as he could manage.

~~~

As Amal exited the cabin and hobbled to the center of the boardwalk, she heard a strange commotion rising above the noise of the storm winds. She immediately realized the main boardwalk was broken into pieces, and several families were standing at their doorsteps with wide eyes, unsure of what was happening or what to do.

Something hideous roiled and bucked atop the mansion’s second story. Whatever it was, she could tell it was grotesque and inhuman even from this distance. For the briefest of moments, Amal thought she could make out the crocodilian thing that Ian had killed several weeks ago standing up there next to Richta. Then they vanished into thin air and she began to question her sanity. A scream erupted from the mansion moments later and she pulled the bag tighter over her shoulder.

She’d have to save Merai alone. There was no time to try to track down her husband and get him to comply, if he was even still alive. Her daughter came first. And each passing second Merai remained in the clutches of that monster brought Amal closer to a complete breakdown.

Amal hastily limped her way down the boardwalk. She’d removed the large splinter of wood that had lodged itself in her thigh and bandaged her leg with a strong gauze from her medical pack inside her bag, but hadn’t taken any medicine for the pain. She’d given all of it to Yorn. The poor man was alive, but his injuries were quite severe. Thankfully, his wife, Melani, was able to take over his care.

She ascended the short bridge that led up into the canopy level where there was an elevated walkway that was suspended from the higher tree branches above. Following it around several thick tree trunks, she came to two watercraft that Richta had built. They were roughly eight feet long and could handle two people and a child, something they had designed for themselves if they ever needed to escape. One was made specifically for Mayor Penh, for he was about the size of two people and a child.

As she started to lower the boat from its suspended position, she cursed herself for not convincing Richta to just forget about the mayor and escape into the night. Everything could have been avoided if only that boisterous man hadn’t entered their lives back in Blokravn. She discarded that line of thinking as she’d done so many times before, it never got her anywhere. The past was the past and she was in the present dealing with the here and now.

A reminder of why things were far more complicated than her imaginary utopia suddenly drifted underneath the walkway. It was a crocodile as large as the boat itself. It was several feet below her, likely searching for the origins of the racket she’d been making. She couldn’t risk the boat becoming damaged or the creature eating her as a midnight snack, so she paused to prevent either from happening.

It was futile, however, as the crocodile spun around, lifting its large head and its opened mouth in her direction. A terrible hiss washed over her, soaking her in fear. She let go of the ropes and the watercraft dangled back and forth from the tree limbs. Amal backed away from the boardwalk’s edge. There was only one way out of this: to deal with the crocodile. And she had just the right tools at her disposal to do so.

~~~

The crocodilian knew something had gone horribly wrong as soon as it happened. Richta and Tamerond both collapsed to the ground, disoriented from their first time popping out of and back into existence. Ian Merstellar hadn’t teleported them to the center of Yonledo’s main boardwalk like he’d intended. Instead, they were exactly where he didn’t want to be: the mangroves.

The two men groaned, bracing themselves against the muddy ground. Rain soaked the three of them in dark liquid, their features lit only by the occasional flash of lightning. Ian could see more clearly in the dark than before, the world filtered through emerald night vision. He scanned their surroundings and noticed that he’d delivered them to the exact spot along the riverbank where he’d first met Unkel Bo all those weeks ago. This time without all of the falling and floundering about in the river. The broken cabin was just as he’d left it.

“Did we really just—” Tamerond started.

“Teleport? Yeah, I think so,” Richta said. “Ian, you did it. You really did it! I mean, I knew you could do it, but I hadn’t imagined what it would actually be like. I feel terrible on the inside, but man, that was awesome!”

Tamerond Blake failed to display the same level of excitement as Richta. “Where is Arnahlt? He had grabbed hold of the beast just as we had.”

Richta looked up at the large reptilian figure, whose elongated face was scrunched in pain. The crocodilian grabbed at his midsection and grunted as he pulled. A length of black root came out and Ian tossed the rapidly petrifying object at his feet. The open wound in his stomach healed at once, closing up as if nothing had penetrated the thick hide. Richta realized that the root must have come from the writhing thing that had attacked Arnahlt before they teleported.

Richta considered commenting on what had become of the monstrosity back at the mansion, but froze when he saw the detached arm next to the discarded stem. “Oh, lights! I think I know what happened to Arnahlt.”

Tamerond Blake’s expression grew grim as he, too, stared at the dismembered limb, unblinking. The deputy commander struggled to his feet, then leveled his gaze upon the large crocodilian, the hatred in his eyes piercing like dragonsteel daggers.

“You killed him, didn’t you? You left him behind on purpose.”

Ian Merstellar couldn’t speak, and even if he could, he wasn’t sure what he’d say. He had likely killed Arnahlt inadvertently. This sudden realization crushed Ian down to his scaled knees between the two men. Was this what Unkel Bo had lived with for so long? The unbearable weight of the entirety of someone else’s life snatched from them prematurely by your own hand. The world’s scorching glare of blame as everyone’s eyes fell on you and you alone.

Tamerond continued to berate him. “What was it that made you decide his life wasn’t worth anything? Because he was mean to you, was that it? Because he didn’t trust you?”

“Leave him be, Tamerond,” Richta said. Tamerond Blake looked up and his eyes went unnaturally wide. “He may not look it but he’s still young. He didn’t mean to leave your friend behind. He was injured, he must’ve been thrown off while using his teleportation ability.”

The deputy commander didn’t give a retort, he only stared at Richta with intense horror. It was almost as if the man had seen a ghost. Richta finally noticed the strange expression but something along the tree line beckoned his full attention.

It wasn’t something along the tree line, it was the tree line. The entire mangrove forest was alive with unnatural movement. At first, it looked as if the wind gusts had picked up and the branches swayed wildly by the invisible force, but the longer he watched, the more he came to realize that it wasn’t the wind. There was yet another invisible force at play.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Luckily, the clearing in which they stood had been emptied of mangroves long ago, the tree line cut back to form a semicircle around them about thirty yards away. The tops of the strange, black vegetation waved like the legs of an insect attempting to reorient itself along the ground. But they were not the legs of insects, they were the roots of Darkness that had taken over the swamp, spilling from its host’s heart. Their flailing nature was more akin to that of a crowd of onlookers outstretching their arms, desperately trying to touch their lifelong idol, their elusive hero, yet in this case, their elusive prey.

Ian Merstellar metaphorically clawed his way out of his sunken pit of despair. Yes, he’d killed someone that hadn’t deserved it, but there were still others to save and protect. If he cowered away from trauma now, he’d only cause more suffering and hardship for himself and everyone else in Yonledo.

Tapping into his Energy reserves and whatever else the crocodilian transformation had augmented his physical form with, he could feel the swamp beckoning to him, calling him forward, hungering for his flesh. It was the dark figure the mangrove spirit had called Elek. It wanted to snuff its failed experiment out of existence and Ian knew why: he was a threat. Ian could sense there was a very distinct presence moving through the mangroves at great speed, heading toward Unkel Bo’s camp—the heart of the swamp. It was Tyvno in his reptilian form, and he was carrying something in one of his arms. No, not something, but someone.

The crocodilian stood and swiveled his large head toward Richta. He could not speak despite his desire to tell the man that his daughter had been taken by the enemy. Ian also didn’t want to risk his life by transporting him to the most dangerous place in the entire swamp. At least, that is what he rationalized as a reason for not teleporting his friend. Deep down he was afraid he’d only bring a piece of Richta with him and leave the rest out here on the flooded riverbank to bleed out.

Ian pointed at the lightbow still slung around the bodyguard’s shoulder and opened a large palm.

“Wait, you want this? For what?” Richta asked, before finally relenting. “I guess I ought to trust you since I haven’t a clue what’s going on right now. Plus, you do have a better record of killing monsters with it than I do.”

Richta handed Ian the lightbow, which was relatively smaller in the crocodilian’s hand, but still accommodated the larger fingers. Ian backed away from them and then disappeared with a whoosh.

“Great. Looks like it’s just me and you, Tamerond. Could this night get any worse?”

Tamerond’s burned features made his expression hard to read, but if Richta had thought to study the man’s face a moment longer, he’d have seen the pure hatred plastered there. He would have also seen the knife at his side waiting patiently for the chance to take his life.

~~~

Amal scrambled along the raised walkway on all fours toward her bag. Her thigh ached each time her knee hit the hard wood, but it was the least of her worries at the moment. The croc had proved to be far more aggressive than she’d anticipated, leaping up and taking a huge bite out of the planks near her feet which had sent her sprawling.

As she crawled, Amal could see the lapping waves of the flood waters through the cracks of the planks. She tried not to look for too long lest she become a sitting target, but it was like walking down a dark alley and not glancing behind to be sure no one was following. The scaled predator was lurking below her somewhere, waiting for its chance to strike.

She snatched up her bag and dug through its contents: mostly spare parts and pieces of… these were stone bombs, she realized. There were light bombs, too, but the other devices in the bag she hadn’t remembered crafting. Until now.

A sharp pain shot through her skull and Amal tried to rub it away with her palm. Blurred images of her past filled her mind and she remembered why they’d fled Blokravn all those years ago. She remembered why Tamerond Blake wanted them dead, why Richta had lost his eye, and why she’d felt queasy around the mayor. She had planted the explosives on that fateful day. She had killed all of those people. But why had she forgotten, and why was she remembering all of this right now.

She yelled, letting out years of pain she hadn’t known was pent up within her. She was oblivious to the eyes rising from the surface beneath her. Her salty tears cascaded down through the cracks and landed just before the crocodile’s nostrils. It lifted its head and found her, its mouth opening in preparation for its strike. The decaying breath blew up through the cracks of the walkway and she blinked away her tears a moment too late.

The crocodile launched itself upward with its powerful tail, exiting the water completely. Amal was knocked back by the crash of splintering wood as the beast broke through the suspended walkway. It’s head narrowly missed her, clamping its jaws down on one of the ropes that helped keep the structure aloft. When it fell back into the water, it snapped the rope and there was an audible rumble that filled the canopy as the walkway swayed back and forth.

Another rope snapped on the opposing side of the damaged planks, causing a cascading effect of excess weight on the remaining ropes. Amal braced herself as the section of the walkway collapsed into the water at an angle, creating a ramp. She tried to climb the planks and get to safety but when she reached the top, her movement caused the next section to crumble and fall. The entire walkway splashed into the rough water and started to sink.

Still holding tightly to her bag, Amal reached inside and triggered two of the light bombs. She knew they were light bombs because they had the sharp metal ends like that of a dagger. She stuck one into the tree trunk closest to her and tossed another at the hanging watercraft, but it thudded off the hull and sank. The boat was dangling just a foot above the water’s surface. Swimming, she managed to get under it and hook her arm over the lip of the hull. When she tried to lift herself out of the water, the branch above broke and it all came crashing down on top of her, knocking her down into the murky depths.

She opened her eyes underwater and couldn’t see anything. Amal got goosebumps imagining the man-eater approaching from any direction. It could kill her right then if it was ready, but where had it gone?

Suddenly the light bombs flared to life and illuminated the underwater world. The crocodile was in front of her coming right for her. She held out her bag defensively and the croc clamped down on it, ripping it free from her grasp. Its spiked tail whipped her shoulder as it passed and she screamed under the water from the pain. She had to get to the surface, she had to breathe.

Her head burst out of the water. Her lungs burned. She grabbed the side of the boat and used the trunk of the nearby tree to push herself inside without tipping it over. She collapsed into the rocking boat and prayed the creature wouldn’t return. But it hadn’t gotten its fill. There was a loud thud as the crocodile rammed the bottom of the boat, nearly capsizing it.

Amal sat up and saw the crocodile surface about five yards away. The flashing of the light bombs revealed its location but since it was on the move it would appear closer with each flash. She grabbed the boat’s oar and readied herself. She didn’t know how she was going to defeat this unrelenting beast, but she had to try. For herself and for her daughter.

Then she was knocked to her backside by a blast she hadn’t expected. The water where the crocodile had been erupted in a fountain of water, a cacophony of noise echoing throughout the canopy. Green flames sprouted in every direction and pieces of the crocodile rained down on the water’s surface and inside the boat.

Amal sat wide-eyed for a moment, then realized what had happened: her bag. The creature had swallowed it whole and the stone bombs—infused with solar energy—had detonated. She couldn’t help but laugh and cry simultaneously until her nerves settled and she could hold the oar steady enough to begin paddling her way up the river.

~~~

Ian Merstellar blipped into existence exactly where he’d intended this time. He looked around Unkel Bo’s campsite, but it was no longer habitable, the heart of the swamp having grown out completely over the small plateau. He looked down at where he stood, at the roots underneath his feet and he grimaced.

“Ah, my oh my, you’ve changed quite a bit since I last saw you,” a voice said. It was Tyvno Marsden-Penh.

Ian looked up and saw the half man, half crocodile standing on a thick branch not too far away. He was small compared to the crocodilian, his form not entirely transformed. Even his face looked vaguely human, which was likely why Tyvno could speak and Ian couldn’t. He had a little girl in his arms, she wasn’t conscious. Black hair covered Merai’s face and he couldn’t see if she was breathing.

Ian raised the lightbow, then hesitated. He wanted to pull the trigger, but he wasn’t a particularly good shot and he could easily hit the wrong target.

A harsher voice rose from behind Ian. “Why don’t you just put that thing down? You’re not going to kill anyone. We both know you’re one of us. One with the Darkness. You’ll never be alone again. Don’t you see?”

Ian did a half turn so that he could face them both. He stood between Tyvno and the dark figure. Deep down he knew this was where he had to be; fate had brought him here. The mangrove spirit had needed his help but he’d failed her. He looked at Merai one more time and regained his resolve.

He would not fail again. He would not run any longer.