The sun was fully out now, casting a warm glow that left a slight sheen of sweat coating my skin. Despite the heat and hours of travel, I felt surprisingly energized. We’d been moving at a good clip since leaving the village, thanks to the brisk pace set by the hunters.
I wanted to chat with Zypha, to ask her all the questions that were bouncing around in my head since we set out, but conversation was a little difficult. Our pace shifted between a light jog and a brisk wall all morning, making it impossible to catch my breath long enough to talk. Every time I opened my mouth to say something, it seemed like the terrain would change, or the hunters would pick up the pace again. Before long, I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other and taking in the shifting scenery.
The landscape gradually changed as the hours slipped by. It was around midday when one of the hunters called for a stop. He peeled away from his spot at the edge of our formation and signaled for everyone to gather around. As we did, I finally got a good look at the man who’d called us in.
He was the oldest of the hunters. I vaguely remembered him introducing himself when we had left the village, but in my groggy state from the early morning wake-up, I’d forgotten his name. Now, standing close to Zypha and me, I could see deep lines etched into his face, evidence of years of experience hunting for his tribe. I sifted through my memories of the morning and tried to come up with his name. It was something like Kazrik, or close enough to it.
Kazrik moved straight to Zypha, leaning in to speak with her in a quiet voice. I could just make out his words: “There’s a family of Laughing Ones up ahead. We can check them out from a distance, but you’ll need to decide if they’re worth hunting or if we pass them by.”
It was clear that Kazrik was the leader of the hunters, but I knew Zypha held a significant role in the tribe. I didn’t know how the hierarchy worked so far from the village, but I was guessing that she was likely being groomed for a leadership role. Kazrik seemed to be here as a guide, to ensure she didn’t make any serious mistakes while still giving her the freedom to make decisions.
I saw Zypha’s body tense, her shoulders stiffening as if bracing for something unpleasant. She took a moment to think about Kazrik’s words, and then nodded her head in understanding.
With a quick hand signal from Kazrik, two of the other hunters began setting up a small camp under the shelter of some nearby trees. They moved with a practiced efficiency, striking flint to start a fire and laying out some food – a mix of potatoes and salt-cured jerky. It wasn’t much, but it would keep us going.
While the two hunters were setting up the camp, Zypha, Kazrik, and another hunter started walking in the direction that Kazrik had said the Laughing Ones had been spotted. I stood there, not knowing what to do, torn between following them to see what kind of creatures earned the name “Laughing Ones” and staying at the camp to try and catch my breath.
Kazrik paused after a couple steps and turned back, catching my eye. He seemed to weigh his options for a moment before giving a quick jerk of his head, motioning for me to join them. I hesitated for a moment before curiosity won out and I quickly fell into step behind them.
As we walked, my mind raced with questions. What kind of creature could earn the name “Laughing Ones”? The name alone was enough to creep me out, but the way Zypha had reacted when she heard it only seemed to add to my unease. I found myself glancing around more often, scanning the landscape ahead, half-expecting something to leap out at us.
Kazrik led us up a gentle slope to a small ridge that overlooked a wide expanse of land. The other hunter flanked Zypha, staying close enough to protect her but giving her space to move freely. When we reached the top of the ridge, Kazrik slowed and raised a hand, a signal for us to be quiet. I had a feeling that the signal was meant more for me. The other hunter was already crouched low, and Zypha moved with such a quiet precision I hadn’t even heard her breathing.
I crouched low as I crested the ridge, finally getting a view of the creatures that Kazrik had warned us about. Even from a distance they looked strange. They were odd, janky shapes that didn’t move quite right. Their bodies were hunched, with limbs that were loo long and too thin. But what really struck me was their eyes – glowing a sickly pale green that were visible even from a distance.
There were three of the creatures lounging in the sun, their stillness slightly unnerving. Two of them looked like juveniles, smaller and more fragile compared to the massive adult that sat nearby. None of them were doing much, just basking in the warmth of the sun as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Beside me, I heard Zypha’s breath catch – a sharp, involuntary sound that she quickly tried to stifle. I glanced over at her and saw a mix of aw and fear plastered across her face, her hands clenched tightly around the satchel she wore. I looked back at the creatures, and suddenly a familiar pressure started building in the back of my head. Black letters scrawled across my vision, giving me a description of what I was looking at.
[Cackling Shadow]
A nightmarish, hyena-like creature with a twisted, unnatural appearance. Known as the Laughing Ones by the Agawo people, these terrifying creatures possess elongated limbs that give them a distorted, almost otherworldly look. Their glowing green eyes, which can pierce through even the darkest night, add to their eerie presence.
Their name is derived from their ability to emit a haunting, laughter-like whine. This sound is more than just psychologically terrifying; it has a paralyzing effect on their prey. The moment a victim hears the laughter, their muscles seize up, leaving them frozen in place and vulnerable to attack.
To the Agawo people, Cackling Shadows are more than just deadly predators. They are believed to be spirits that are drawn to times of great turmoil. Their eerie laughter is said to carry messages, warnings, and omens from the spirit world, making an encounter with a Cackling Shadow now just dangerous, but deeply ominous.
Kazrik and Zypha were crouched low, their eyes locked on the distant creatures. The Cackling Shadows were unsettling to watch, but I forced myself to keep an eye on them anyway. I scanned the area, trying to see if there were any more hidden nearby, waiting to ambush us.
“What do you think?” Kazrik mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are the three of them worth hunting?”
Zypha took a moment, her gaze narrowing as she studied the creatures. Finally, she nodded. “The big one is. It’s the only one worth anything.”
Kazrik’s eyes never left the Cackling Shadows. “Do you have an echo ready? I don’t think Rilla has earned his yet.”
Zypha gave a firm yes in response.
Satisfied, Kazrik motioned to the other hunter who’d been quietly keeping an eye on the perimeter, making sure nothing was sneaking up on us. He seemed to be doing a much better job of it than I was – I had no experience hunting in a group like this. Hell, outside the Dreadboar, I had no experience hunting at all. I had no clue what I was supposed to do.
The hunter moved over to Kazrik so silently I didn’t notice him until he was right beside us. Kazrik leaned in and whispered something to him, his words barely audible. I caught just enough to know they were discussing tactics and positioning and the right approach to hunting these creatures before the hunter grunted in acknowledgement and slipped away.
Once he was gone, Kazrik signaled for us to retreat, and we quietly moved away from the ridge, crouch-walking until we were out of the creatures’ sight lines. When we finally got back to the small camp, the other two hunters were waiting for us. They’d finished setting up a simple spot where we could rest and have a quick meal, and were munching away on trail food they’d packed.
Kazrik approached them and explained there was a family of Laughing Ones nearby and they’d make a good offering for the shaman. He turned to one of the hunters, a young man who barely looked older than a boy. The young hunter’s face paled as Kazrik made to pull him aside and started speaking to him in a tone that was meant to be encouraging.
“You haven’t earned your echo yet, right?”
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The younger hunter shook his head and blanched slightly. “No. Not yet.”
Kazrik placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Then the biggest Laughing One is yours. Make it count.”
&&&&&&
Zypha and I were kept out of the planning for the ambush. We were more like observers than participants, and there was good reason for that. Zypha could probably hold her own in a fight – I’d seen the way the elder moved and commanded his death echoes, and he seemed capable of fending off most any monster. But Zypha was too important to the future of the village to risk. As for me, well, I was more of a liability than an asset. Kazrik made it clear that our job was to simply observe while his hunters did the actual killing. So, I stayed crouched low behind the ridge where we’d first spotted the beasts, lying next to Zypha and two of the hunters, including the younger one named Rilla.
Rilla was crouched to my left, a few spears resting at his side, while the other hunter stood a little farther back with an arrow nocked in his bow. His eyes were focused and unblinking as he watched the Cackling Shadows. I noticed his stance shift slightly as he raised the bow, and an inky blackness began to seep across his face – a death echo, like one I’d seen before. I’m pretty sure it was meant to sharpen his eyesight as he took aim at the creatures. With a fluid motion, he drew back the bow and released the arrow with a force that seemed almost supernatural.
I watched, mesmerized, as the arrow cut a perfect arc across the sky. Time seemed to slow as it soared through the air between the ridge and the clearing, striking one of the Cackling Shadows with a solid thud. The impact sent the creature sprawling.
The reaction was immediate. The beasts snapped into action with a flurry of movement. Their heads jerked up, eyes flaring brightly with sudden awareness as they scanned the area. They let out a chorus of distorted howls that sounded like twisted laughter, sending a shiver down my spine. We were probably too far away for their paralyzing whine to affect us, but I still tensed involuntarily.
Their eyes snapped to the ridge where we were hiding and, with terrifying speed, they charged. Their movements were jerky and unnatural, like puppets pulled by an unseen hand, but they ate up the ground between us in a flash. The lead creature, the adult, bared its teeth in a grotesque grin as it zeroed in on the hunter who’d shot one of its young.
But the hunter didn’t flinch. The blackness across his face thickened, and his vision locked onto the approaching creatures as if nothing else existed. He stood his ground, another arrow already nocked and ready. Beside me, Rilla crouched with his spear, a slight tremor in his hands betraying his nerves as the creatures closed in.
The hunter with the bow narrowed his eyes in concentration, drawing the string back one last time. His target was the same juvenile Cackling Shadow he’d hit earlier. It lagged behind the others, the wound the hunter caused making it struggle to keep up. He released the arrow, but in the chaos of the charge, the shot went wide, thudding harmlessly into the dirt behind the creature.
My heart sank, and I gripped my seax, ready to face the oncoming creatures. But just then, Kazrik and another hunter burst from their hiding spots, rushing out like shadows from the underbrush. They flanked the Cackling Shadows with a practiced ease, catching the creatures off guard. Both hunters focused on the smaller creatures, racing to disrupt their charge before they could catch up to the adult.
Kazrik was a force of nature. The air around him seemed to ripple as his death echo – the same inky blackness that marked the eyes of the hunter next to me – shifted and coiled around his body like a living shield. One of the juvenile Cackling Shadows, confused at the sudden appearance of the two new threats, lunged at him and snapped at his outstretched hand.
But Kazrik didn’t even flinch. The death echo wrapped around his hand, the inky blackness forming a barrier beneath his skin that the creature’s teeth couldn’t penetrate. It gnawed at his blackened hand, its distorted laughter turning into a frustrated growl as it realized it couldn’t break through. With his free hand, Kazrik drew a long knife from his thigh and slashed at the creature. Each one of his strikes was precise, cutting deep into the creature’s hide and sending dark blood splattering onto the ground.
Meanwhile, the other hunter – the same one who’d scouted the Cackling Shadows with us earlier – had raced in from the opposite side. He was smaller and more agile than Kazrik, darting around the second juvenile creature with a fluid grace that made him look more like a dancer than a warrior. His spear was a blur of motion, poking and prodding at the hyena-like beast. Each jab drew blood, slowing the creature down. It snarled and snapped, but the hunter was always just out of reach, his movements too quick and too clever to be caught by the young creature. The outcome of the fight seemed inevitable.
The adult Cackling Shadow hesitated, torn between helping its smaller kin and dealing with the immediate threat in front of it. Its glowing green eyes flicked back and forth, calculating, until Rilla rose from his hiding spot. He hurled one of his spears with all his strength, and the weapon jammed itself into the creature’s shoulder with a sickening thud.
That was enough to force the issue. The adult recoiled, its too-human eyes locking onto Rilla with a burning, unnatural hate. This was the first wound it had taken in the fight, and it turned all its attention on the young hunter that had caused it. I saw its chest well as it took in a deep breath, and I realized almost too late that it was about to unleash its horrifying laughter.
Time seemed to slow. The creature’s whine crawled up my spine, and I felt my muscles tighten, locking up as panic began to set in. My body was betraying me, freezing due to the laughing-whine of the Cackling Shadow.
Then, out of nowhere, a piercing whistle cut through the air. The sharp sound sliced through the Cackling Shadow’s whine, disrupting its effect. I turned my head and saw the bow hunter – his mouth pressed around a small wooden instrument – blowing with all his might. The harsh, jarring sound mingled with the creature’s laugh, breaking it up just enough for my muscles to start loosening.
The tension in my body faded as the effects of the Cackling Shadow’s whine dissipated. The creature itself was momentarily disoriented, surprised its whine hadn’t landed, but it quickly lashed out at Rilla. My eyes darted back to Kazrik and the other hunters who were finishing off the smaller Cackling Shadows with ruthless efficiency.
I calmed at that, confident that with the juveniles out of the way, the hunters would all surround the adult and bring it down with multiple strikes. But that’s not what happened. Kazrik and the others pulled back, leaving Rilla alone to face the adult Cackling Shadow.
The beast was massive, its hulking form towering over the young hunter like a living nightmare. Sure, it wasn’t larger or more dangerous than the Dreadboar I’d killed, but its janky, unnatural movements made it unpredictable. Rilla’s grip on his spear tightened, his knuckles white as he cautiously circled the creature, trying to stay out of reach of its unnaturally long limbs. Each limb was tipped with razor-sharp claws, and I had no doubt that a single swipe would be enough to slash Rilla apart.
The Cackling shadow let out a low, menacing growl, trying once again to release its whine, but the bow hunter was quicker. His instrument whistled sharply, breaking up the sound before it could take hold.
Why weren’t the other hunters helping Rilla? I couldn’t understand it. He was barely more than a boy, facing a creature that was clearly beyond him. My instinct was to rush in and add my weight to the fight to help tip the scales in his favor. I shifted, preparing to move, but felt a firm hand on my shoulder.
Zypha had moved silently beside me, her hand stopping me in my tracks. She shook her head, her eyes locking onto mine with a silent warning. I hesitated, confusion and frustration battling inside me, but the resolve in her gaze held me in place. I turned my attention back to the fight and watched, angry that I couldn’t do more.
Rilla thrust his spear forward, aiming for the Cackling Shadow’s flank, but the creature was too quick, too agile. It swatted the spear aside with one of its long limbs, knocking the weapon away with alarming ease. Rilla stumbled back, barely able to keep his footing as the creature lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air where he’d just been. The young hunter was fast, darting out of the way just in time, but I could see the fear in his eyes – the realization that he was outmatched.
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched the creature press its advantage, pushing Rilla back step by step. I couldn’t understand why Kazrik and the others were just standing here, watching. Just then, Kazrik moved slightly, catching my eye, and for a moment I thought he was about to intervene.
But he didn’t.
He simply watched. His expression unreadable, as if he was waiting for something. The bow hunter stood ready, an arrow nocked and the small wodden instrument clenched in his mouth. The inky blackness of his death echo lingered around his eyes, sharpening his vision as he tracked the creature. Neither of them was aiming at the Cackling Shadow; they were both simply watching and waiting.
It struck me, in that moment, that Kazrik wasn’t abandoning Rilla. He kept a close eye on the fight, letting Rilla have the chance to prove himself but ready to step in if things became too dangerous. Kazrik’s muscles were tense as he held himself back but got ready to rush in if needed.
It was a trial. A rite of passage. Kazrik had checked to see if Rilla had his death echo yet. And since he hadn’t earned one, he gave him the hardest opponent. Zypha had stopped me from rushing in, and even the bow hunter hadn’t aimed any of his arrows at the larger Cackling Shadow, focusing instead on the juveniles to grab the pack’s attention. This whole ambush was set up to force Rilla to face this creature on his own. The other hunters had likely faced similar trials, and now it was Rilla’s turn.
But knowing that didn’t make it easier to watch.
The Cackling Shadow lunged again, its claws coming dangerously close to Rilla’s chest. He twisted out of the way, bringing his spear up in a desperate attempt to fend off the attack. The weapon glanced off the creature’s shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood but doing little to slow it down. I saw Rilla’s face pale slightly as his confidence wavered.
He can’t do this, I thought, my hands clenching into fists. He’s going to get himself killed.
Rilla’s spear, normally a reliable weapon to keep enemies at bay, seemed wholly inadequate against the Cackling Shadow. Its limbs were longer than they had any right to be, allowing it to breach the distance Rilla was trying to maintain. Each time he thrust his spear, the creature’s limbs darted out, batting the weapon aside or simply sidestepping it with an unsettling grace. It had managed to score a few hits on Rilla, carving lines in the hunters arms as he jabbed the spear forward. Frustration started building in Rilla’s eyes as he realized that his spear, once his greatest asset, was now being used against him. The creature’s reach allowed it to attack from angles Rilla couldn’t defend against, its claws coming close to tearing him apart with every swipe.
It was clear that if he continued to fight at a distance, he wouldn’t last much longer. I could see Rilla’s mind racing, searching for a way to turn the tide.
Then, in a sudden moment of resolve, Rilla made his decision. He released his grip on the spear, letting it clatter to the ground. The Cackling Shadow’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. Rilla rushed forward, closing the distance between himself and the creature in an instant.
The Cackling Shadow recoiled, startled by the sudden change in tactics. It tried retreating but hesitated for a moment, as if sensing Kazrik’s presence behind it. That hesitation let Rilla come close. He threw himself against the creature, almost hugging it as he buried himself against its chest. The Cackling Shadow thrashed, its elongated limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, but Rilla clung on.
With one hand gripping the creature’s matted fur, Rilla used the other to pull out his own seax – the broad-bladed knife gleaming wickedly. He struck with quick, precise stabs, catching the Cackling Shadow in the side. Each strike was small, but it was enough to surprise the creature.
The Cackling Shadow tried backing away, desperate to put more space between itself and Rilla to use its superior reach to its advantage. But Rilla pressed in closer, jabbing the creature again and again. The Cackling Shadow howled – not its chilling laughter that froze muscles, but a sound of pure rage and agony as it twisted and bucked, trying desperately to shake Rilla off.
The beast lashed out, trying to use its strength to crush the smaller hunter. It finally managed to maneuver into a position where it could reach Rilla with its claws, grazing his arms, but Rilla didn’t flinch.
Kazrik stayed close, his body tense, ready to intervene. But he didn’t move. He let Rilla fight, letting him find his own way through the battle.
And then, with a final, desperate lunge, Rilla drove his seax deep into the creature’s chest. The Cackling Shadow let out a choked howl, its laughter dying in its throat as it collapsed, the green light of its eyes fading away. Rilla stood over it, panting, his face a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.
And then he too collapsed to the ground, his body drained of adrenaline, leaving him in a heap of exhaustion.