Chapter Five: A Meal Near the Forest

The door creaked open, resisting their push as though it, too, feared the world beyond. A dense plume of dust erupted, engulfing Arni, Zeus, and Cobra in a suffocating haze. Cobra shielded his face with his arm, while Arni quickly pulled the royal guard’s scarf tighter around his mouth and nose. Zeus, unbothered, released a powerful exhale of heated air, scattering the dust with a draconic blast.

What lay beyond the door wasn’t salvation. It was ruin.

A desolate town sprawled before them, its skeletal remains blanketed by thick ash. Dust hung in the air, and the sun was a dim, pale orb hidden behind layers of filth. The stench was overpowering—a revolting medley of decaying flesh, stagnant water, and something eerily chemical. Arni instinctively coughed, the acrid air biting at his lungs.

“This... this is what the outside world looks like?” Zeus muttered, his voice heavy with disappointment. His golden eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the shattered remnants of life. “Honestly, Arni, if this is what freedom looks like, I’m not sure it was worth it.”

Arni’s gaze lingered on the ruins. “This isn’t right,” he said, his voice resolute. “The world isn’t supposed to look like this.” He turned to Cobra. “Do you know what could’ve happened here?”

Cobra shook his head, his expression grim. “No idea. But I suggest we move. Staying here won’t do us any good.”

They ventured into the town, their boots crunching against the cracked and dusty ground. The further they walked, the more surreal their surroundings became. Broken homes stood like gravestones, their windows shattered. Schools and shops lay abandoned, their interiors stripped of life. Every step brought a new wave of despair, as though the town itself mourned its demise.

As they passed a decrepit café, Arni faltered.

Zeus noticed and raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you know this place?”

Arni shook his head, offering a faint, melancholic smile. “No. It’s just... before all this, I always wanted to visit a café. Sit down with someone, order a bitter coffee, and just... forget the world for a while.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Zeus snorted. “Romantic nonsense. Dragons don’t waste time on trivialities like that.” He glanced at Cobra. “What do you think? Is the dust getting to him?”

Cobra smirked, lighting a cigarette. “Must be. All this ash in the air is probably messing with his head.”

Unbeknownst to them, a shadow moved in the distance. Watching. Listening. Caribou, unseen and silent, observed the trio with a predator’s patience, his sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light.

As they pressed deeper into the ruins, Arni began noticing something odd. Dead animals—rabbits, birds, even stray dogs—littered the area. Their bodies showed signs of swelling, and their eyes were glazed over as if death had been slow and cruel.

“Something’s wrong,” Arni said, crouching by a dead hare. He pointed to its matted fur and swollen belly. “This isn’t natural. Look at the lesions on its skin.”

Cobra frowned, lowering his cigarette. “Infections. Maybe tularemia. This place isn’t just dead—it’s diseased.”

Zeus wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. “The smell’s getting worse. Rot. Decay. And something... metallic.”

Arni stood, his face pale. “We need to be careful. If there’s an outbreak here, it could be dangerous.”

The trio moved cautiously now, their eyes scanning every shadow. When they came upon a burned-out house, Zeus stiffened. “Do you smell that?”

Arni sniffed the air and nodded. “Smoke. Fresh.”

Zeus transformed into his dragon form without warning. “Hold on!” he roared, and with a powerful leap, he launched them into the air.

The burning house came into view, its remaining structure collapsing under the flames. Zeus landed with a gust of wind, extinguishing the fire with a single beat of his wings. The air was thick with ash and embers as the three approached the smoldering ruins.

Cobra bent down, picking up a tarnished locket from the dirt. Opening it, he found a photograph of a father and daughter. His jaw tightened. Without a word, he removed the photo and tossed it aside.

“I’ll check the perimeter,” he muttered, disappearing behind the house.

There, away from the others, he pulled out his own chain, transforming it into a scythe. From his pocket, he retrieved a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and an old photograph of himself with his mother. The picture showed a younger Cobra, his face free of scars, his smile untainted by pain. Carefully, he cut the photo to fit into the locket, snapping it shut before slipping it around his neck.

Back at the ruins, Arni crouched by a pile of debris. “Zeus,” he called, “look at this.”

Zeus approached, his brow furrowed. “What now?”

Arni held up a plate of food. “It’s still warm.”

Zeus rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s warm. The house just burned down.”

“No,” Arni said, his voice steady. “This wasn’t burned. It’s fresh. Someone cooked this.”

Cobra rejoined them, his cigarette glowing faintly in the dim light. “So what? Do we sit down and eat? Or do we figure out who’s been here?”

Arni stood, his eyes fixed on the forest beyond the village. “If there’s a reason for all of this—the fire, the disease—it’s in there.”

Without another word, they turned toward the forest, the trees looming like silent sentinels, guarding the secrets within.

End of Chapter.