The Elven village of Mya
3 Days later:
A lone survivor stumbled out from the wreckage of Mya, clutching his precious supply of food and water. He was one of the four former prisoners that the Beastkin had taken and released. He’d evaded the Royal Army after they captured and executed the other three, watched as the smoke from the Beastkin's cover dissipated, now all alone in the village as a deathly silence filled the air, haunted and oppressive.
While scavenging supplies from the fallen, he felt it—a dark presence pressing in on him from the edge of town. He tried to turn away, but his feet moved as if under someone else’s command. Step by trembling step, he approached the outskirts, where the Beastkin had last set up their defenses.
A shadowed figure floated above the ground, draped in a hooded cloak that seemed to swallow the light around it. It sifted through the scattered crates, a gloved hand lifting broken pieces toward the hood before discarding them. Suddenly, it froze. A low, guttural whisper escaped, heavy with an ancient, twisted sorrow.
“Cl...a...ra…”
The single word hung in the air, as if pulled from the deepest part of the being. Then, slowly, the hood turned toward the soldier—and in an instant, it was upon him.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“What…happened…here?” it rasped, the words sliding over him like a deathly chill.
“P-please... I don’t... I don’t know,” he stammered, the weight of the dark gaze pressing down on him.
“L...i...e...s…” The specter’s voice dripped with malice, each syllable heavy and slow. The void within the hood pulsed with a life of its own, dark magic holding him paralyzed. “Beast...kin… scent… on… you…”
The soldier’s knees nearly buckled. “Y-yes... they captured me...treated me... Please...”
A gloved hand raised, silencing him. The hood twitched with a strange curiosity.
“Beast...kin… strong?” It asked, the question a low, begrudging inquiry.
The soldier nodded frantically. “Yes... they were unstoppable! They defeated us all!”
“Lies?” It asked questioning itself. The man could feel the icy power violently jerk him off his feet and next to the hood. The hood was nothing but darkness and black smoke that rolled on the edges.
“No….Lies..” It stated as it looked in the terrified mans face as the hood moved as if studying him.
“Which...way…go…?” The figure’s voice dropped lower, as if trying to pull the truth from him.
He pointed shakily, stammering, “I-I heard them... they were going back to the desert... they went toward the Skyrocks...”
The figure twisted toward the Skyrocks in the distance. Its gaze returned to him in an instant, smoke curling from the hood’s dark void. “No….Tell…..,” it hissed, each word a poisoned command.
The voice grew to a haunting scream, the words forcing his body to the ground. As he fell, darkness closed in, his last vision that of the cloaked figure warping the area around it, and fading away like a lost shadow into the light.