He gasped for air, his lungs strained and his breath coming short and heavy. Shrugging off the heavy coat—a wave of relief washed over him as the cool breeze caressed his skin, easing the heat that had built up during the laborious climb down. Taking advantage of the moment, he slumped to the ground, folding his legs, which were a mixture of fatigue and relief. And, after unbuckling the belted pouch, he tosses it beside the discarded coat on the ground, the contents clinking softly—the weight of his utilities alleviating his shoulders now that they were off.
Casting a weary glance skywards at the cliff that he had descended, he couldn’t help but notice the jagged rocks—which reminded him of his exertion. He took a deep, audible breath and muttered with a tone of dissatisfaction, “I’m not sure that was the right way.” As he mopped the sweat off his pale brow, the dirt from his hand left streaks on his complexion. “But it doesn’t matter, I made it down here. There’s no point dwelling on it now,” he conceded as he reached for the waterskin dangling from his belt next to the pouch, his fingers brushing against the worn leather.
As he quenched his thirst, the parchedness of his throat welcomed the cool, refreshing water, invigorating his exhausted form as he lingered for a moment—savouring the respite. Once the waterskin was empty, he attached it back to his belt before lifting his eyes toward the dark, towering grove that lay ahead. The strands of light from the sun barely streaked through, the dense foliage sheltering the grove in darkness, partially—if it weren’t for the whimsical lights of fireflies casting their luminescent glow. The light they emitted created an alluring sight for the eyes, but he did not savour the awe. He took his surroundings with wariness. “Beautiful as it may be, Elderwood is not known for its generous hospitality,” he mused, “I should thread carefully unless I want to attract the attention of this forest’s denizens.”
Moments passed, and his rest came to an end as he stood to gather his things. Strapping on the utilities that lay on the ground, he draped his coat over himself, his body feeling cool from the earlier exertion and the exhaustion replaced by renewed vigour that filled him. “Knowing where I am, I should discard the thoughts of finding a village nearby,” he stated, beginning his journey deeper into the grove, his steps filling the stillness and his mind pondering. “But it still doesn’t make any sense why a concealed pit used by hunters to trap their prey would be placed within the borders,” his mind recalled the scene of the chase, “and what were those... things? Are they even living?” He questioned himself about the form of the dark riders, who were more like spectres than flesh.
ᓚᘏᗢ
The ethereal glow of the fireflies created a mesmerizing path through the grove, casting light on the massive roots entwined across the forest floor. With effortless grace, he leapt over the gnarled obstacles, moving with the agility of a woodland creature. However, he began to feel the drain on his energy with each hurdle. Seeking a smoother path, he looked upward to the sturdy branches that offered secure footholds. Moving from one branch to the next with nimble ease, he conserved his strength and continued deeper into the looming giants of the forest. As he ventured forth, he noticed that the trees grew taller and denser, blocking out the sunlight and leaving the forest-dependent on the fireflies for illumination. Yet, he pressed on until suddenly, an oppressive feeling overwhelmed him, causing him to stumble and fall from a considerable height.
Struggling to rise, every muscle ached from the impact. "What just happened? It felt like my senses were confused," he muttered, peering anxiously into the dimly lit surroundings. Picking himself up, he drew his blade with fluidity, prepared to face whatever danger lurked in the darkness. Every nerve tingled with apprehension, as if an unknown predator closed in on him. However, the eerie presence dissipated into nothingness, leaving him with a sense of unease and confusion.
Sheathing his blade with a puzzled expression, he remained alert and cautious as he resumed walking. After a few steps, a small figure caught his eye in the periphery—a child? The child appeared startled and quickly fled upon being spotted, prompting him to pursue. Baffled by the presence of a child in the woods, he called after the fleeing figure, questioning himself why a child would be in such a place. Despite the child's strides, he easily closed the distance, determined to discover the reason behind the unexpected encounter.
"Wait!" he shouted, lunging for the child as he drew closer. To his astonishment, as his hand made contact with the child's shoulder, the body seemed to transform into a golden flash and vanished, only reappearing further ahead. "What sorcery is this?" he murmured, bewildered by the spectacle. Despite his confusion, he continued to pursue the child, but every time he attempted to make contact, the child would vanish and reappear elsewhere. "I'm not here to hurt you!" he yelled, but the child remained unresponsive to his pleas.
He gasped in frustration as he pursued the child, who appeared to have seamlessly melded with the tree branches. The grove was illuminated by fireflies, but their soft glow made it difficult to see clearly. Despite this, he could sense the child's amusement and obvious enjoyment of the chase. "What a slippery little monkey," he muttered as he strained to catch his breath, constantly making sudden turns as the child seemed to possess the uncanny ability to vanish at will. "Fine, I'll catch you this time," he resolved. He steeled himself, causing small craters to form in the ground as he coiled his legs, preparing to launch himself forward. However, just as he readied himself, his body froze as he observed a subtle shift in the child's expression. A moment of stillness enveloped the scene, followed by an unmistakable sense of impending danger.
The oppressive feeling had returned, leaving his body in a state of alarm. It was foreign and unknown to him, but as soon as the child disappeared, a deafening roar shattered the silence. It was primal and overwhelming—a sound that shook the very air. He realized that feeling, the feeling of a prey meeting its natural predator. At that moment, he could only rely on instinct. His muscles tensed, and with a surge of adrenaline, he propelled himself forward—narrowly avoiding the deadly attack that tore through the space he had just occupied. He landed where the child had been, and with a sudden whirl, his blade sang free from its sheath, steel meeting the claw that descended upon him.
The intense clash between steel and claw delivered a searing jolt—a surge of formidable force that left him reeling as he struggled to absorb the impact. Despite his smaller frame, he valiantly contested the unequal battle of sheer strength. However, as expected, his efforts proved futile as the beast overwhelmed him with its superior might, hurtling his body through the air with a force capable of shattering sound—his body tensing in anticipation of the impending impact.
Like a rock skipping across water, his body bounced upon the earth—the force flinging him about in an uncontrolled tumble. He struggled to compose himself, but with each impact against the ground, a new wave of dizziness washed over him, leaving him winded and disoriented. Gradually, the momentum waned, and after a few harrowing moments, the velocity lessened enough for him to attempt to regain his footing. With a grunt of effort, he used his blade, plunging it into the soft earth to halt his movement and pull himself upright.
With a heavy breath, he stood weakly, blood trickling from his head, painting the bangs of his white locks in crimson. The pain was there, but it was distant—overshadowed by the towering beast atop the branch. Its dark fur melded with the shadows, and its golden eyes pierced the darkness, gazing at him with smug assurance. The beast’s expression seemed to mock his feeble state, yet it made no move to advance as if savouring the sight of its prey’s struggle.
The youth expressed his disdain: "I will seek retribution for your actions, you excessively large undomesticated feline." He muttered his strong aversion towards the creature's smug demeanour. Disrobing and discarding his tools, he proceeded to take a deep breath. In a transformative display, his physique became adorned with white scales, his head adorned with spiralling horns, and his pupils elongated to further resemble those of a serpent, altering his appearance significantly.
The beast regarded his transformation with cautiousness as it descended from its perch, its keen golden eyes now filled with intrigue. He assumed a defensive stance, his gaze sharp and focused, as the creature began to circle him. He tracked every movement with precision—alert to any sign of attack. The beast tested him, circling several times, searching for an opening, but he remained vigilant, his guard unwavering. They were locked in a stalemate—the duration uncertain. Yet, in the end, the beast was still a creature of instinct. Its patience frayed, it crouched low, muscles coiled and ready to pounce, and after a moment of stillness, as blue met gold, the ferocious roar broke the silence as the beast lunged at him with wild ferocity.
He parried the sharp claw, his scales absorbing the shock from the heavy and powerful blow. He reacted easily after taking the appearance of the mysterious scaled form—giving a scene where he clashed evenly with the beast. Each time the beast attacked, he would parry and deflect, but each time he saw an opening for a counter, the beast would evade, jumping away from the sharpness of his blade. It went on like this for a few moments, where one did not give another an advantage, but as it continued, there was a moment where his body failed to respond. If it weren’t for his scales, he would’ve been torn apart as its claw found its mark on his right shoulder, forcing him to evade its attack and distance himself from the beast.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
He groaned at the deep gash marked in crimson—the right of his arm growing weak as it bled, and the grip on his blade faltering gradually. But it was no time for weakness and rest. The beast lunged at him, closing the distance in the blink of an eye, causing him to use his already weakened arm to parry away its claw—the force of the clash sending jolts of pain that left him grumbling. For a mere animal, his anguished expression gave away his thoughts, and it caught on to his weakness as it probed his right side with every assault. He could only react in pain as he kept meeting its claw, holding on despite his laboured breath and sluggish movement.
There was nothing he could do besides evade and parry every attack from the beast. Despite the scaled form that he grew reliant on to shield himself and allowed him to go even against it, the night’s long pursuit that left him sleepless and restless was taking hold. He knew that a prolonged battle would be fatal, causing his mind to wander and entertain the thought of escape. But it was that grave distraction that hindered his reaction, failing to evade the claw of the beast that tore away at his chest—his scales torn from his body as the beast hurled him against the tree with tremendous force.
The dust settled everywhere as he gasped for air, struggling to stay conscious. The world around him whirled and swirled as he tried to orient himself, feeling the pain of blood that trickled through the remains of his scales that gradually receded, returning to his initial appearance. His lungs burned from the dusty air as he struggled to breathe, the force of impact leaving him winded and his vision blurred. The only comfort he found was the cold steel of his blade that he relied on to support himself, forcing his worn and already battered body to stand, refusing to fall—a stubborn trait that exudes either foolishness or determination.
Looking ahead of him, through his blurred vision, he sees the beast that stalks toward him, advancing with a growl that rumbles deep in its chest. For only a moment, he felt the inevitable death that awaited him, one that he was ready to welcome as his eyes were steeled with resolve. But as he watched the beast that had left him in such a state, he noticed its lazed and slow movement filled with expectation of victory. It was a complacent stride—a new sluggishness that was unguarded, “a chance,” he finished weakly but with a tone filled with expectancy.
Tightening his grip on his blade, he held it with the strength he could muster. A mixture of eagerness and dread filled his eyes, and his breath hitched with anticipation. It was a still moment—the air thick with dust and the iron scent of blood pricking his eyes and lungs, but he ignored the discomfort, keeping his focus sharpened at the beast that approached. But time seemed to stretch, each second slowly wore his patience thin, but then, the large shadow of the beast towered over him. There was a sudden shakiness as he held his blade, as fear washed over him when the beast raised its right claw—the deadly talons gleaming under the fireflies’ light, poised to deliver the final blow.
The creature's gleaming, golden eyes exuded a wild anticipation, indicating the hunt's imminent conclusion. Every line on its face seemed to be etched with a predatory excitement, and its sinister expression sent shivers down his spine, paralyzing him with an overwhelming sense of dread. At that moment, he felt utterly trapped, his resolve beginning to falter. A strange sensation, unfamiliar to him, washed over him as he contemplated giving in. His eyelids felt heavy, and a sense of drowsiness enveloped him. He found himself almost resigned to his fate as the beast's claw began its descent.
Is this the end? he thought, pathetic. All that boasting to return home with the relic of our people. And yet . . . a journey that ended quickly without accomplishment. A grave under fireflies’ light. A beauty undeserving a miserable end . . . No . . .I refused to meet such an end.
He awoke to a surge of determination, a fierce ember of willpower burning within him. In the face of impending death, he found an unyielding resolve that overpowered his fear. As he deftly dodged the beast's deadly swipe, a surge of strength coursed through him. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly manoeuvred behind the creature, his blade poised to strike. The beast hesitated for a moment, providing him with a chance he didn't waste. With a flash of silver and a resounding sharpness, his blade found its mark, plunging deep into the creature's flank.
A thunderous howl echoed through the peaceful grove of towering trees as the monstrous creature staggered, its movements increasingly erratic and tormented by the initial strike. However, the attack was not enough to subdue the beast. With unwavering determination, the warrior thrust his blade even deeper, provoking an even more ferocious bellow from the creature. In response, it thrashed wildly, forcing the warrior to withdraw his weapon and retreat to a safer distance. As he fell to his knees, his leg gave way, the surge of strength that had fueled him moments earlier now ebbing away. Helpless, he could only watch as the beast continued to thrash about—an overly dramatic reaction to a simple injury. "To react so vehemently," he taunted, "you must experience more of the pain you've caused." Yet, as he attempted to rise, his body resisted; exhausted and fatigued, it refused to comply.
His lips curled up in a chuckle as the frenzied thrashing of the beast came to an abrupt halt, giving way to a deep, menacing growl that foreshadowed his imminent demise. The creature's intense gaze bore into him, its fiery golden eyes smouldering with fury—a clear indication that his end would be anything but peaceful. With jaws wide open, it leapt forward, poised to swallow him whole. He closed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his weathered features as he resigned himself to his fate. But then, a glimmer of light appeared.
ᗢᘏᓗ
Perched high in the verdant canopy, the child's gaze danced with fear and regret as he watched the drama below. Memories cascaded through his mind—the chase, the beast’s abrupt arrival, and his flight, driven by terror. Now, he bore witness to the fierce battle unfolding beneath him. The clash of metal on claw echoed, sending tremors through the air, while a surge of energy emanated from the battle’s core, its force both delicate and mighty. The energy’s sting forced the boy’s eyes shut, offering a brief escape from the scene’s intensity.
When he opened his eyes, confusion struck—the ground beneath had vanished. His brow creased as he searched the area, using his peculiar ability to zip from branch to branch. He felt like a breeze lost among towering trees until the distant sound of steel on claw beckoned him. He homed in on the noise, his form blurring into golden streaks that zipped through the foliage, drawing him ever closer to the conflict’s heart.
Arriving, he saw the stranger, now clad in white-scaled armour—a stark contrast to his earlier guise. This new form seemed to balance the odds against the beast, which dodged each attack with agile grace. The child's shame and guilt morphed into admiration as he watched the stranger hold firm. But the moment was fleeting; the stranger faltered, and the beast struck.
"A daunting ordeal awaits him," a woman’s voice suddenly whispered in his mind, its tone soft and age-old, a sound the child knew well. “Then can you help him?” he asked silently, concern lacing his thoughts as he watched the stranger’s struggle. "Intervention of trial is not my calling. He must stand solitary to prove his worth," the voice answered, igniting the boy’s frustration. “What—worth?" he stammered, his confusion evident, but his words were met with an explosive distraction below.
The young child's attention snapped back to the unfolding scene before him. The stranger, now visibly weakened, leaned against a gnarled tree, clutching a gleaming blade. Despite his obvious fatigue, the stranger stood with unwavering defiance as a massive beast loomed over him.
Driven by a fierce determination, the child prepared to rush to the stranger's aid, but in a flash of golden light, he found himself ensnared within a sphere of shimmering, golden energy. A commanding voice echoed in his mind, "Hear me, child of the ancient Voice. It is not our prerogative to intervene. Through his solitude, he shall prove his worth," the voice repeated. Frantically, the child protested within the confines of his mind, "What worth? Can't you see the danger?" Yet, his desperate pleas were met with silence. He pounded fruitlessly against the luminous barrier, attempting to break free, but with each attempt, he remained trapped within its radiant confines.
His heart pounded in his chest as he stood frozen, unable to intervene as the monstrous beast closed in on the defenceless stranger. A surge of frustration flashed through him, directed at the enigmatic voice that had brought him to this inexplicable moment. However, his emotions quickly shifted as he watched in awe as the stranger, seemingly accepting of his fate, deftly manoeuvred behind the beast and delivered a stunning blow. Despite his astonishment at the sudden turn of events, a subtle vibration of approval emanated from the mysterious voice.
Just as he looked up, a radiant figure of a golden lady materialized in front of him. "You knew? I-" he started to speak but was promptly silenced by the voice, "Do not seek forgiveness, young one. Your intentions were pure. I had no knowledge of this outcome, only faith in the boy. But comfort must wait," the voice advised with profound wisdom. Confusion clouded the boy's features, but his attention was immediately drawn back to the unfolding drama as the beast lunged ferociously at the vulnerable stranger.
Suddenly, time seemed to stand still, and the soft blue of his eyes became infused with a radiant golden glow. The golden lady extended her hand. "Will you now offer your aid to one who is deserving?" the voice asked, and without hesitation, the boy grasped her hand. "Child, with the Voice of ancient. Heed these words, and let the world be bathed in the golden light of dawn."
With a calm that belied his youth, the child intoned in a voice that resonated with ageless wisdom, "Eúhl‘Máehl” (Embracing Dawn)." The words were spoken not in the voice of youth but in the luminous, melodic tones of the golden lady, which carried a weight and power that filled the air. Suddenly, radiant light burst forth from the ground, piercing the darkness of the forest with sheer brilliance. Golden pillars of light materialized, encircling the beast, which recoiled in intense pain as its form came into contact with the radiant, transcendental energy.
Seizing the opportunity, the brave child vanished from the spot where he stood and reappeared beside the fallen stranger, who lay unconscious on the ground. With remarkable strength, the child supported the injured youth and glanced back at the ferocious beast, which was trapped within the golden pillars of light. With a moment of haste, he whisked the stranger away, leaving the fading roar of the beast in the distance.