Aldred Ironvale was a boy who, by most ordinary standards, would never have faced much adversity in life. He was friendly, generous, and his kindness earned him the favor of everyone around him—from his training peers to the servants working within the modest estate of his family. His strong, sturdy build was unusual for someone his age, and despite his unremarkable appearance—light brown hair and dull green eyes—he stood out thanks to his ability to forge connections effortlessly.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Born on the farthest branch of the illustrious Dracknum family’s collateral line, Aldred had never felt the weight of the surname he lacked. He was the fourth son of a baron teetering on the brink of ruin, whose title carried more weight on parchment than in gold or land. His mother, though technically his father’s primary wife, was nothing more than a former servant.
From a young age, Aldred understood that his future held no promise of greatness. He had no inheritance to hope for, and the options left to him were bleak. Becoming a merchant meant abandoning what little comfort he still possessed; life as a mercenary offered only danger and instability. Becoming a knight was an option, but even that meant fighting tooth and nail for recognition in a world where bloodlines mattered more than strength.
That left only one path: the Hunter’s Judgment. The challenge was brutal in its simplicity—survive in the Black Forest, retrieve the Dracknum family insignia, and prove his worth. For Aldred, it was the sole opportunity to claim the name that had been denied to him and perhaps, just perhaps, carve out a place for himself among the Dracknum.
He embraced the challenge with unyielding determination. No matter how unfair or perilous, he would face the judgment head-on. But fate, once again, proved itself merciless.
Eight months had passed since Aldred entered the Black Forest. Survival had been a relentless battle—hunger, injuries, and natural predators were his daily adversaries. Yet, he’d adapted. He had learned to hunt, to evade obvious dangers, and even to use the forest itself to his advantage.
But the real struggle was the insignia. No matter how thoroughly he searched, no matter how tirelessly he scoured every inch of the forest, it continued to elude him. And now, something had shifted.
The forest felt different. It was as if an invisible shadow had settled over it, making everything unnervingly still, suffocatingly heavy. The wind, which once carried the earthy scent of leaves and damp soil, now bore a metallic tang that clung to the air.
Deep within the caverns, where Aldred sat beside a small makeshift fire, he scanned his surroundings warily. His muscles were taut, his senses heightened as every faint sound seemed to echo louder in the oppressive silence of the night. He didn’t know what had changed, but he knew, without a doubt, that something was very wrong.
“Damn it…” muttered Aldred, rubbing his small but calloused hands over his face, the scars of months of survival etched into his skin. His words were swallowed by the muffled echoes of the cave. “This forest has been trying to kill me since the day I set foot in it, but now it feels like even it wants to run away.”
Before he could dwell further on his predicament, a violent rumble reverberated through the cavern.
BOOM!
The ceiling trembled, followed by an explosion that sent dust and chunks of stone raining down. Aldred instinctively threw himself to the ground, shielding his head with his arms as a thick, choking cloud of smoke enveloped the space.
His heart pounded against his chest as he coughed violently, trying to clear his lungs of the heavy air. “What the hell was that?” he asked himself, his voice shaky and low.
As the dust began to settle, Aldred slowly pushed himself to his feet, his knees trembling slightly beneath him. In his hands, he gripped the improvised spear that had become his trusted companion in the forest. Crafted from a sturdy vine, a branch of the toughest tree he could find, and a crude stone blade, the weapon was the result of weeks of trial and error. He had shattered countless stones in frustration before finally managing to sharpen one to his satisfaction.
With cautious, deliberate steps, Aldred approached the source of the explosion, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, but his small hands, hardened by survival, held the spear firmly.
“This isn’t normal… definitely not normal…” he whispered under his breath, as if trying to silence the voice in his mind conjuring worst-case scenarios.
The smoke began to take on a reddish hue as it thinned, a sight that made Aldred swallow hard. “What the hell is that now?” he muttered, his pulse racing even faster.
At last, he reached the epicenter of the chaos. What he saw left him frozen in place, his mouth slightly agape: a massive hole in the ceiling of the cave, through which the night sky loomed. Two moons shone brightly overhead.
One of them was familiar, its silvery glow casting a gentle light over the forest. But the other...
“This... this is impossible,” Aldred stammered, his wide eyes fixed on the second moon. It glowed a deep, blood-red hue, its ominous light flooding the cave in a sinister shade.
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A shiver ran down his spine, the icy grip of fear seizing him. It didn’t make sense—none of this made sense.
“Two moons?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief as he momentarily forgot the lurking danger.
Before Aldred could fully process what was happening, a sound sliced through the air—a whisper, a quick movement, something coming from above.
“What?!” was all he managed to say before something—or someone—came crashing through the hole above, landing directly on him.
The impact was overwhelming. Aldred cried out in surprise as his small body was slammed into the ground, his makeshift spear flying from his grasp. He groaned in pain, feeling the weight pinning him down while he struggled to regain his bearings.
“W-who…?!” he tried to ask, but his voice was weak, muffled by the confusion and the throbbing ache in his chest.
Something stirred above him, and through the lingering dust, Aldred caught a glimpse of a human figure. It was a child, like him, but there was something profoundly unsettling about the sight.
As the dust began to clear, the crimson light of the blood moon illuminated the scene. It was the body of a girl. Her face was marred by a savage claw mark, a horrifying gash that left a grotesque trail across her features. The blood crusted along the edges of the wound looked freshly wet under the moon’s eerie glow. Her eyes were half-open, lifeless, and one arm hung at an unnatural angle.
It was clear she had been killed in a single, brutal strike.
“AHHH!”
The scream tore from Aldred’s lips before he could stop himself. He scrambled backward, his breath hitching in pure terror as he distanced himself from the corpse as though it might suddenly spring to life.
His heart pounded so violently that it echoed in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. “This... this can’t be real!” he stammered, his voice trembling as his mind raced in blind panic.
“I have to get out of here! Now!” he cried, his voice cracking as his eyes darted around, searching frantically for an escape.
But before he could move, two more bodies fell through the hole in the cave’s ceiling. Aldred froze, every instinct screaming at him to run, but something rooted him in place.
These figures, however, were alive.
— “Featherfall!” — shouted one of the children as they descended, their voice clear and commanding.
Aldred squinted, trying to make out the details through the dim, red-tinged light. One of the newcomers wore a necklace with a glowing green gemstone at its center, its light pulsing softly as if alive.
As soon as the words left her lips, the glow of the gemstone faded, and the cave was once again plunged into shadow, lit only by the ominous red light filtering through the hole above.
"Hilda!" The girl with the necklace repeated, her voice trembling now, a mixture of urgency and despair lacing her tone.
Her gaze locked onto the lifeless body on the ground, and Aldred could see the shift in her expression. The confidence she had exuded moments ago evaporated, replaced by pure shock and a complicated swirl of sadness and guilt. She didn’t say another word, but her grip on the necklace tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Still stunned, Aldred pointed his crude spear at them, his eyes wide, his breathing uneven.
“W... who are you?” His voice was firm but carried an undertone of fear.
He studied them quickly. The differences between them were glaring. While Aldred wielded a rudimentary spear cobbled together from branches and sharp stones, clad only in the tattered remains of trousers that barely covered his scarred legs, the two newcomers were practically untouched.
Their clothes, though slightly torn, were clearly made from fine materials, exuding a kind of sophistication Aldred couldn’t comprehend. They carried themselves with an aura of confidence, even urgency, that made him feel small and out of place.
But they ignored him.
“Damn it, we need to leave—now!” growled the boy with golden eyes, his tone low and commanding. “That thing can probably smell the blood—or track us through it!”
Aldred narrowed his eyes, his instincts screaming that something was deeply wrong. He repeated his question, louder this time:
“Who are you?!”
But once again, they didn’t answer.
“You’re right,” the girl muttered in agreement with the boy. Without hesitation, both of them began to sprint toward the cave’s exit.
Just before disappearing into the shadows, the girl cast one final glance over her shoulder. Her golden eyes locked with Aldred’s.
“If I were you, I’d leave now. The blood moon has descended upon us.”
Aldred stood frozen, his heart pounding as he stared into the darkness that had swallowed them. The girl’s words echoed in his mind like a sinister omen:
‘The blood moon has descended upon us.’
He glanced at the girl’s lifeless body lying on the ground, the claw marks across her face making her frozen expression all the more haunting. A chill ran down his spine, and he felt cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
‘I don’t know what this is, and that’s exactly why I need to get out of here’, he thought, gripping his makeshift spear tightly.
The cavern seemed to breathe around him, the sounds of dripping water and faint echoes amplifying the growing tension. Aldred took a step back, his heart pounding erratically. He knew he had to act fast.
But before he could turn to flee, the ground beneath him trembled faintly. A strange sound—a mix between a muffled roar and a distant wail—reverberated through the walls. The red moonlight streaming through the hole above seemed to grow stronger, bathing the space in a sinister glow.
Suddenly, a massive shadow descended through the hole, moving too quickly for Aldred to react. He barely had time to raise his spear before an overwhelming force slammed into him, pinning him to the ground.
The last thing he saw was a pair of glowing yellow eyes piercing the darkness, accompanied by a deafening roar that drowned out all other sound. Then, his vision faded into black.
Silence returned to the cave, broken only by the steady drip of water and the faint rustling of leaves in the distant forest.