Prologue

There was a deluge of heavy rain. A small company of five men rode through the thick woods of the Bothic along an overgrown road. Their green cloaks were soaked with water. Cold and miserable, they were eager to find shelter.

“We should find somewhere to lie low, and soon,” said Nova, who cautiously scanned their surroundings. They were shrouded in a smothering fog, and the forest was eerily quiet.

“Agreed,” replied Kerion, the captain. “Perhaps we’ll be able to find shelter in some ruins.”

Nova looked around and scanned among the trees for anything dangerous. He had been raised in the woods. His father had taught him how to hunt and survive from an early age. Yet, these lands made him feel anxious at all times. There was something ever looming in the air that always kept him on edge, something that he couldn’t quite seem to recognize. Of course, he wasn’t alone in feeling this way. There were others within the Brotherhood that spoke of the Bothic’s uncanny atmosphere as well. Yet, despite the land’s inherently foreboding nature, they had a mission to accomplish by order of their emperor.

Nova looked ahead and saw the ancient remains of a crooked stone watchtower. Immediately, he pointed to it. “Over there.”

“Ride for it.” Captain Kerion urged his horse forward. The others followed after him with haste, relieved at having found shelter at last and eager to escape the downpour.

They dismounted their horses and left them to rest underneath a makeshift cover outside. Baelis, who was their most skilled swordsman, was the first to be sent inside by Kerion. After he had thoroughly searched the tower from top to bottom, he waved them in. Drenched and shivering, they hastily entered and started a small fire with any wood that had managed to keep dry.

With a man stationed above as lookout and another by the entrance to stand guard, the remaining three rangers gathered around the flames to discuss plans. Johan, the scribe, took from his bag a map of the region and rolled it out.

“Thank the Lord,” said Nova, relieved. “It’s dry.”

Johan glanced up at Nova. “Thank me, for putting it into the satchel to keep it dry.”

“Right,” Nova apologized. “Of course. Thank you, Johan.”

Johan remained unconvinced by Nova’s sarcasm, but shrugged it off. The two of them shifted to make way for the captain to gaze at the map’s contents.

“Here we are,” pointed Kerion, although there was a speck of doubt. “Roughly, anyway.”

He turned to Johan. “Mark our position and draw in the ruin.”

Johan took out his pen and drew a slanted tower in keen detail. Nova looked closely and was mildly impressed. Johan’s artistic ability never ceased to amaze him.

As Kerion stroked his woolly chestnut beard, he observed the rest of the map more closely. He then pointed to another location, east of where they were. “If our location is accurate, then we should be getting much closer to Ingrid.”

Nova recalled the significance of Ingrid. It was a small, quaint village in the central Bothic region that had recently sent word of numerous sightings of supposedly “dreadful creatures” lurking in broad daylight within the forest.

His father had told him many stories about fell things in the woods; trickster spirits that would toy with humans, two-legged beasts that would stalk you in the night and then attack without mercy at dusk, and things that could sound human, yet look nothing alike.

Nova always felt a chill shoot up his spine whenever he thought back to his father’s stories. Once upon a time, he thought of them as truth. However, as he grew older, they became more like fairy tales, told only to frighten children and keep them from danger.

He thought it ridiculous that they had to suffer in the cold and rain to investigate mere rumors of a supposed “monster in the woods.” Yet, though he was a skeptic, he figured there would at least be a legitimate reason for the emperor to send his own rangers to investigate.

Additionally, the forests of the Bothic were entirely different to him, not just in appearance, but also in their ominous atmosphere. It never failed to unnerve him, a seasoned and hardened woodsman. He wanted to leave as soon as possible and be done with their mission.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Nova observed the distance between their location and Ingrid. “Only a few more miles, I imagine,” he said.

“I would hope so.” Kerion stood up and nodded for Johan to remove the map. “We’ll rest here. When the rain has cleared out, we head for the village.”

“Understood.”

Nova rose and dug through his bag, eventually finding his blanket. When he found a suitable location, he laid down and fell asleep. He dreamt of charming pretty girls and dancing merrily with his companions.

The following morning, he awoke from a crawling sensation that was creeping up his leg. Panicked, he tore off the blanket and watched in horror as he saw a massive spider advancing. Acting immediately, he swatted the bug away and scrambled for distance.

“Good morning,” greeted Baelis as he ate bread by the fire. He was smiling, amused at the spectacle that had just played out. “I see you’re finally awake.”

“Indeed I am,” Nova replied, still recovering his breathing. He watched as the spider slipped away through a crack in the wall.

Baelis split his loaf of bread in half and offered a piece to Nova. “Here, to break your fast.”

“Thank you.” Nova took the bread and ate. After he had washed it down with water, he packed up and joined the others outside.

Kerion, already mounted on his warhorse, watched as Nova left the tower and got onto his own horse. It was cloudy, and the sky was painted a silvery gray. The storm from the day before had cleared, and the ground was still moist.

The rangers set back out and traveled once more along the same overgrown road ripe with weeds that wound through the woods. Kerion, the captain, led their formation as the vanguard. Johan, as their navigator, followed next. Then proceeded Baelis, their best sword, Arnon, their best bowman, and then Nova, who was the greenest of the bunch as the newcomer. All throughout the journey, they felt as if they were being watched by something, or rather, someone.

They then found an old stone bridge and crossed to the other side, where an open wooden gate greeted them.

“Are you sure this it?” questioned Baelis, who observed the gate.

“It should be,” the captain responded. He led them through the gate and into the village. As they passed each house, they quickly noticed a dreadful stench that plagued the air.

Baelis instinctively pinched his nostrils together. “It smells like shit.”

“That’s not the smell of shit, I assure you.” Kerion stopped them beside the village’s well and turned to them. “I don’t know if you lot have noticed, but there seems to be absolutely no one here besides us.”

Nova looked around, confirming Kerion’s suspicions. There was indeed not a person in sight. The horses grew restless, which troubled the men further.

“Draw your weapons,” Kerion commanded. “Stay together and remain vigilant.”

Nova drew his sword and looked around. In the corner of his eye, he saw someone coming to him. He observed closely and saw that it was an elderly man, draped in a tattered brown robe. The old man’s feet stumbled one after another, and his arms slowly swayed at his side. Nova heard as he whispered under his breath, but he was unable to make out what the old man was saying.

“You, halt there,” warned Kerion, who turned to face the elderly figure. The old man did not stop, and approached Nova. At once, Nova’s horse reared up and squealed. Taken by surprise, Nova whelped as he was thrown onto the ground. His horse then abandoned him and fled from the scene, an act that left the other horses in a frenzy. Kerion and the other rangers struggled trying to rein them in.

There was a horrific, rotten smell that permeated into Nova’s nostril. He winced at the pain from his back, and looked up. He saw the old man’s eyes, which looked as though shrouded by a dense fog, idly staring at the ground beneath. He observed the rest of his face and saw it was horribly mangled, with a scar that extended across his face and crooked, rotten teeth that flashed from his gaping mouth.

Suddenly, the old man’s eyes darted to meet his. Nova panicked and tried to back away. But the old man was quickly galvanized and lunged for him, screaming. Nova shouted and ducked as Kerion emerged with his longsword. Acting swiftly, he took aim and struck the old man’s forehead with the flat of his blade.

Having been knocked away from Nova, the old man growled and hissed in pain. “Stay back!” Kerion shouted, pointing his sword.

But the old man ignored his warning and charged once more, this time towards the captain. Kerion fortified his stance and raised his sword in anticipation. When the old man came within close proximity, he swung and cleaved off his head with a precise, calculated motion.

Nova saw the old man’s headless corpse drop, and looked at Kerion gratefully. As the rush that flowed through his veins wore off, Nova came back to his feet with the help of Kerion.

“Recall your horse,” said Kerion with haste, as he turned back to his. “We need to leave.”

Nova nodded, and he brought his fingers into his mouth to whistle, but suddenly stopped. Dozens of other villagers had emerged from nearby and were starting to surround them. He took notice that they shared the old man’s stumbling movement and that they too whispered words that were incomprehensible.

“Stay together!” shouted their captain.

Nova called for his horse and prepared his blade. There were no doubts that their attackers’ intentions were of the murderous sort. Whatever had happened to this village, they were too late to stop, and now they had to escape, to warn the others of what was to come.