The garden of the estate was simply beautiful. Flowers of many colors and shapes littered the uneven grassy terrain in patches. Tall trees, ever resilient and withstanding, stood every here and there, giving the garden a taste and feel of nature.

The moon shone its brightest as it reflected upon the tranquil surface of a pond that stretched generously from the center of the garden.

The distant howling of the wind brushed through the leaves of the trees and continued its journey across the air, rippling the surface of the water in gentle and even waves.

The surface of the pond settled after a time, and the garden recovered its serene tranquility. The calm lasted for a few moments before the silence was broken by small, thumping footsteps.

Across the bank of the pond, over where the flowers were the brightest, a quartet of children ran and roared in joyful innocence.

They ran and jumped over the patches of flowers, one child after the other, lost in the joys of whatever game they played.

Time passed, engrossed as they were in their activity, and soon it was time to part.

One of the children halted after taking note of the moon and the clouds above. Behind him, the rest of the quartet stopped and followed his gaze up to the moonlit sky.

“It’s already time…” He spoke as his sister and cousins turned back to him.

“C-can’t we stay a little longer?” Asked another, meek and downhearted.

 “We can’t…” answered a girl, her own voice tinted with disappointment.

The other girl, the youngest among them, hugged her brother by the waist as she buried her face in his tunic. She knew the time would come, but she was loath to welcome it.

“Shh.” Soothed her brother, his hand gently caressing her hair. “It’s alright, Deva. We’ll still be together, all of us.”

“B-but they said—” tried the other boy before a hand clamped over his mouth.

His sister simply stared at him before shaking her head, motioning for his silence.

“Deva, remember our promise?” the older girl spoke gently as she bent next to her cousin. “About staying strong and not crying?”

The younger girl sniffed in her brother’s tunic before turning and huffing. “I-I wasn’t crying!”

“Sure.” Answered her cousin as she ruffled her hair affectionately. “Keep it that way, then.” She added with a smile.

“Sera.” The older boy called, and she turned.

She gave the younger girl a gentle kiss on the cheek before ruffling her hair one more time and standing next to her cousin.

“Kell.” The second youngest of the group turned his misty eyes to his elder.

They had spent most of their childhood together. Eating, bathing, sleeping and playing with one another. It was hard for them to conceive a future without each other’s company.

But the young boy saw the resolve in his cousin’s stare. Despite his bravado, tears were collecting at the corners of his eyes, yet his face was still a mask of calm decisiveness.

He sniffed his nose before wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt and turning back to his cousin, trying his best to keep the tears away. “Y-yes?”

The older boy smiled as he patted his sister’s shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.” He said, before offering his arm to the younger boy.

Kell grasped it, hesitantly.

“You are strong. You shouldn’t cry, you make it seem as if this is the last time we see each other.”

His sister tensed between his arms, her emerald hair shifting slightly as she looked up at him.

His cousin elbowed his side with a disapproving frown before soothing the younger girl’s worries. “It’s alright, Deva. Your brother is just being an insensitive idiot again.”

The eldest sighed and rubbed the back of his head before addressing the boy again.

“We’ll be away for a few moons, at most. We should be back before the winter…” He saw the smile that started to grow on his cousin’s face before he finished, “…hopefully.”

Sera elbowed him once again, her face still wearing that calm – and in his opinion, deceptive—smile, but he tried to ignore it.

“We’ll be back before you know it. And, hey…” He looked down at his sister and gently lifted her chin so her eyes were on his. “We’ll be sure to bring you some presents from the capital.” He added in an amused tone.

His sister perked up at the magic word and turned to fully stare at him in undisguised excitement. “A wand! I want one of those jeweled wands they sell at Gilla!”

Her brother’s expression twisted in unease for a second before he smiled hesitantly and looked at his cousin.

She stared back with indifference, her damned smile still in place.

“S-sure, I will do what I can?” he stuttered out a response and was relieved when his sister simply nodded in excitement and embraced him again.

“You’re the best!” she said, her voice muffled through the fabric of his tunic.

“Alden.” The younger boy spoke after a moment in thoughtful silence.

His cousin ruffled his sister’s hair again before turning to him with a smile.

“Just… be careful out there.” He started, before dropping his voice in a whisper. “You know how those…” he scratched his cheek, trying to find his words. “…examinations can be.” He finished with a hesitant smile.

“Of course.” Answered his cousin after glancing at Sera. “Together with this daemon—” said demoness elbowed him again, hard, before he continued. “Together with Sera, nothing can stop us.” He finished with a strained nod.

They chatted afterward, their topics ranging from the childish to the mundane, trying to ease the situation, before two hooded figures approached from the passage that connected to the estate proper.

Alden glanced at the approaching silhouettes, recognizing their silver garments and emerald capes, before stretching his arm out, towards the center of their little group.

“Sera.” He called, nodding towards his cousin, who nodded back.

“Kell.” He smiled at the only other boy in their quartet, who weakly smiled back and acknowledged the silent meaning of his gesture.

“Deva…” He whispered softly to his little sister, who simply hung her head low and threatened to start sobbing again.

The silence stretched for a moment before she lifted her head and wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

Alden smiled at her, proud to see her showing such strength and resolution despite being the youngest of their group.

They all held their arm out, limb crossing over limb, as they closed their eyes and hummed a quiet, short tune.

----------------------------------------

“…Hopeless.” He murmured as his eyes opened.

The damp, heavy atmosphere of a moody evening greeted him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around.

The sky was still weeping in strings, even after a day of constant rain, without any sign of stopping.

He sighed as he stood, making sure not to hit the low wooden roof above his head.

The rain took him by surprise. He had been trekking through the woods in search of prey, for close to a week. Not that the beasts were seldom in the forest, but most had fled to the east in the past few days.

The few that remained were either unaware of whatever danger was lurking out there or were too headstrong and uncaring to worry. Those proved to be the most dangerous prey in this region of the Great Domain.

He stretched his limbs and felt his joints popping. He had spent enough time as it was inside of this hollow tree. It was time to move.

He looked at his feet and picked up the bow and sheathed blade that lay against the wall. He pulled the bow over his arm and diagonally across his torso and clipped the sheath to a spot on his belt.

He walked towards the exit, his gloved hand brushing over the rough, woody texture of the tree before his naked fingers rested on a small bundle wrapped in cloth and hanging from a small protrusion on the wall.

He unfolded his cloak and hung it over his shoulders before slinging his quiver over his arm and to his back.

He stopped right next to the entrance, drops of rain staining his face, his emerald bangs whipped by the wind that managed to reach him.

He pulled his hood over his head and jumped through the opening.

----------------------------------------

The sun was just starting to set, far into the horizon.

He spared a glance to the darkening sky, before focusing on the path ahead.

The rain had lessened somewhat but was still drizzling. His cloak did its best to protect him from the moody weather, but his tunic beneath was already starting to soak.

He pulled the flaps of his garment closer, a hand resting over his heart while the other brushed over the pommel of his blade.

A sound to his left drew his attention. He turned sharply, blade already half drown, before sheathing it again.

He managed a sigh, his eyes relaxing under the darkness of his hood.

The atmosphere in the woods was tense. Tenser than it usually was.

Every shadow seemed darker, and every noise sharper. As if the forest itself was wary and cautious.

He didn’t like it. His long ears twitched at every sound, and his eyes narrowed at every sign of movement.

A small, unassuming critter dashed in between bushes, right in front his eyes, before stopping and glancing towards him.

Its long ears, almost half the size of its body, perked and bent as he stopped and held his breath.

Its dark, bulging eyes roamed over his features before stopping over a spot concealed beneath his cloak.

He gulped, his hand stopping in mid-movement.

The creature’s ears flapped and twisted again. It lowered its head closer to the forest floor, almost kissing the damp soil with its whiskered and twitching nose.

He almost tried reaching for his blade again but decided against it. The way the beat’s eyes seemed to narrow ever so slightly, as if aware of his intentions, was a clear deterrent.

He considered his options.

The Balt in front of him was perhaps the only easy prey he had come upon in the last several days. What few he had managed to come across until now had already sensed his approach before he even noticed, or were too wild and unpredictable to even consider.

Balts were fast and wary. Their long ears were able to pick even the most discreet of noises, big and twitchy as they were.

It was a wonder he even managed to come upon one.

He let out the breath he had been holding as he narrowed his eyes and reached deep into his soul.

The drops of rain, that until then soaked his cloak, seemed to evaporate as they collided with some unseen barrier around him.

The mud and pebbles rumbled at his feet as if pushed by invisible pressure.

The Balt’s legs twitched and tensed, its eyes narrowing as it turned and leaped for the closest bush.

Time seemed to stop, as the creature jumped into the air, its strong, fitting muscles carrying it upwards towards its destination. The rain stopped, as did the wind and every other noise around it.

Then, it fell to the ground, immobile and silent, its fur soaking in the mud.

The man approached and knelt before it.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, before producing his blade and gripping the creature by its ears.

In a swift motion, he slashed the sharp edge of his weapon across the critter’s throat, its blood soon soaking the ground beneath it in warm, crimson liquid.

He sheathed his blade after flicking the specks of blood off it, before standing up and reaching into his soul again.

The concerto of sounds started anew, breaking the silence that seemed to drown his senses for the past few moments, and the rain battered his cloak and boots again.

He sighed. “That was probably a bit excessive.”

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It took some time for the creature to bleed out.

He placed its cooling carcass in his satchel along with a bundle of herbs and plants he had picked up over the past few days before he set out again.

He had already spent enough time on this fruitless expedition. He felt grimy and sweaty, even while the cold, humid rain battered his cloak and soaked his garments. His stomach rumbled in protest, unsatisfied by the herbs and critters he had chewed on for the past couple days. He was eager to have a nice bath and warm meal.

Alas, it was still too soon to go back.

He had to find more food to feed his charges.

He also had to find some Everblooms for his mother and aunt.

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He managed to find a Sarc, half a day after catching his small quarry.

It was standing by a river, its long tongue lapping and reaching for the water.

He watched it from afar, hidden behind the cover of a large, very ancient tree.

He admired those creatures.

Puffy silver fur covered the entirety of its body, extending from the base of its antlers to just over its hooves. Its pointy head sported long, leaf-like markings that extended from the bottom of its jaw to just under its crystalline, dark eyes. Its stumpy nose was black and narrow, resting just above the long fangs that stretched from and through its lower lip. Two other fangs, relatively longer and sharper likewise extended from its upper jaw, caressing and lightly bending over its pointy chin.

He breathed, in and out, a couple times.

He reached for his bow, his hand pulling the flap of his cloak aside as it slowly crept to and over his shoulder.

He stopped, his arm immobile as he ceased to breath.

His silver eyes beheld the crystalline dark globes of the creature, as it craned its head and stared at him.

He was a good distance away, confidently hidden from view by the leaves that stretched under a branch hanging limply from a tree.

Nevertheless, he could feel it tensing to his presence. Had it had eyebrows, he was sure he would have seen them furrow.

The moment stretched, and the silence that ensued in their quiet confrontation seemed to drown all sounds.

Then, a small rustling of leaves sounded from his right.

Both spared a glance towards the source of the interruption.

They both reacted in very, very different ways.

Whereas the Sarc spent no moment in hesitation, leaping away from the scene as its long legs carried it through the motions, he simply stared back at the large, glowing red eyes that scrutinized him from behind the shadows of the canopy around.

He gulped once, then twice.

He turned fully towards the crimson globes, before chancing a step backward, one hand resting on the tree to his side, while the other, still stretching over his shoulder in a previous attempt to reach for his bow, slowly moved back to rest warily over the pommel of his blade.

His eyes narrowed under his hood as the creature followed and put one of its paws forward.

He stopped.

He remembered a certain passage he read in a book.

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The Great Domain is a vast expense of greens and trees. It is home to a plethora of different species, fauna and flora alike.

Hunters, those who spend their lives out in the woods, providing for their community or simply living off the bounties of the land, had come to learn and set a few rules to ensure not only their survival but also that of those who might follow in their steps.

One of those rules, a very basic one, is rather straightforward.

There are two kinds of beasts roaming the Great Domain.

Those who flee at the approach of a hunter, and those who don’t. Putting aside the different variations that may result from either hunger, panic or the desire to protect their young, it is a rather simple thing to remember.

If you come upon one of the latter kind, be cautious and prepared.

If one of the latter kind approaches you, fully aware of your presence, don’t waste time exerting caution. Just pray to god and run as fast and far as you can.

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He gulped again, harder.

He chanced another step backward, and the creature followed.

Another step and it followed yet again.

He stopped and slightly bent forward, lowering his body and making himself a smaller target.

The beast’s eyes seemed to narrow as it followed his movements.

He tensed as he saw its red glowing eyes approaching through the shadows.

There were very few beasts with red, ominous and glowing eyes.

He tensed again as one of its paws came under the light of the sun. He tensed even further when the other followed.

His breathing stopped as its head finally emerged.

Imagine a wolf, with thick, heavy reddish fur, serrated claws and two rows of ferocious teeth dripping with drool the color of gold and salivating in anticipation of its meal. Its neck was accented by a pair of rounded crests that extended around it and vibrated with every breath the beast took, releasing some sort of misty haze in the air. Now multiply the size of the beast by at least three times of what you originally pictured.

A Lobo.

The moment seemed to stretch as his gaze followed every accentuation and curve of the beast’s sharp fangs, taking in the ferocious and savage nature of its dangerous jaws, before he dared a look at the rest of its body.

He noticed the awful cuts and bruises that marred its crests and limbs, scarring but evidently still fresh from the way purple smoke was rising from the sizzling and seething wounds.

Lobos were, unlike Sarcs and Balts, Shade Beasts.

They were creatures with special properties and abilities that demarked them from the rest.

They could regenerate faster, stomp harder, bite stronger and even had racial abilities that allowed them unnatural feats comparable to magic. 

He felt the temperature rise in the air as a strong pressure washed over him and enclosed his surroundings in scalding heat.

He felt his breath hitch and his skin sweat.

He hesitated for a moment, before ducking to the side and away from the blazing ball of fire that consumed the tree he had been leaning against.

As his roll ended, he landed in a crouch, bow and arrow fully extended and notched.

His eyes focused on the Lobo’s jaw, dripping with golden drool that scalded and burned the grass as it dripped to the ground.

He gulped, arms feebly trembling as his confidence was slowly stripped away.

The beast was too large and wary to be fought with a blade.

Likewise, it was too close and cautious to be taken with simple marksmanship.

Another wave of heat threatened his senses as the beast prepared another of its blazing fireballs.

He narrowed his gaze and clamped down on his fears, before reaching into his soul.

The wall of pressure was pushed back and the creature staggered, taken aback by the unexpected counter.

He took the small window offered by his rebuke to turn around and dash through the forest, Bow quickly pulled back over his shoulder.

The creature took a moment to steady itself, before launching after the young hunter.

----------------------------------------

It was only thanks to the rain that dampened the forest the night prior that this portion of the Great Domain didn’t go up in flames.

Beasts and lesser Shades alike quickly vacated the vicinity as they seemed to feel the wrath of nature that left a veritable spectacle of fire and destruction as it stomped its way through the forest.

Its relatively smaller but resilient prey ran through the woods and hopped across the trees in a desperate attempt to escape the blazing power behind it.

He jumped from yet another branch as it went up in flames and fell to the ground, managing to turn his desperate lunge into a roll before he stood and took off in between the trees again.

The Lobo was ever on his trail, though its bravado was quickly losing in intensity.

He chanced a look at the creature, over his shoulder, and noticed its strained gait.

It was getting tired.

It would soon abandon its chase.

Or so he hoped.

He evaded the low hanging branch in front of him by a hair’s breadth as he clumsily ducked and rolled forward, and down a muddy slope.

He brought his arms up and covered his head as his tumble took him ever lower, until his back crashed against an uneven surface, his bow and quiver attenuating the shock, but digging into his back just as much.

He groaned in pain as he dropped his arms and tried to stand.

His muscles protested and his breath hitched with every breath he took, but he managed to get himself up on his knees, one arm gripping a protrusion on the rock he crashed against, while the other nursed his bruised sides.

His long ears twitched as they picked a ferocious growl from high up on the other side of the clearing.

He chanced a glance upwards and quickly cursed under his breath.

The Lobo had followed in his trail and was skidding across the muddy slope, snarling and… was that a sneer on its face?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He reached into his diminishing reserves and quickly lunged away from the beast as it crashed into the hillside, causing a few rocks to tumble over it and the mud to splash onto him.

He stepped back, his eyes never leaving the mess of rocks and mud, before his back hit against something hard.

He finally looked around and felt his heart drop as he took in his surroundings.

He was surrounded by walls of dirt and rocks that stretched too high for his liking. The only way out was the muddy, treachery slope that brought him down there in the first place.

He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brows as some of the pain came back unbidden, despite the rush of heat and power that he commandeered from his soul.

The blanket of rock and soil shifted and he found himself focusing on the shade beast again.

He had been hoping the crash would disable it.

The beast was not so easily defeated.

It slowly rose and shook as it staggered away from the cavity it dug into the hillside.

Its glowing crimson eyes wandered hazily before focusing on his slumped form.

It put one paw forwards and pushed another wave of heat towards him.

He pushed back with a grunt of effort, the two waves of power colliding and shattering as one.

The beast leered, blood generously flowing from its new wounds.

The hunter calmly stared back, his arm reaching and discarding his broken bow before he gripped his blade and fell into a stance.

He put one leg forward and shifted his body aside, giving the beast as few opening as it would get.

His other hand gripped at empty air as he focused on the beast before him.

Time seemed to stretch as both stared the other down.

The beast lunged forward, pushing yet another heat wave at the long-eared hunter.

He reached into his soul but focused his energy in and just around his body.

The wave of heat and raw power washed over him harmlessly as he rolled to the side, dodging but still feeling the pressure from the beast’s strike.

The muddy soil caved as the creature bit deep into the ground, its claws finding purchase in the wall of dirt and rocks of the hill. It staggered in place, dazed and stunned by its own momentum.

He quickly stepped back and resumed his stance, before lunging forwards.

With quick and hastened movement, his lunge brought him just behind the beast as it started to turn around.

He thrust his blade forward, its polished surface seeming to glow in a faint, translucent light, and bit deep into the beast’s back.

The Lobo roared in pain.

He twisted his blade, causing the beast to whine and growl as it started to thrash.

It turned in a swift, angry motion, whipping the blade out of his hand and sending him crashing into a nearby wall.

He wheezed and panted as he slid down until his back rested against the hillside.

He lifted his head and watched as the creature thrashed, its clawed paws desperately trying to dig the blade out of its flesh.

It whimpered as power washed off of it in violent waves.

He knew how dangerous a beast was in its last moments. Even more so when it was a Shade.

He staggered up and pushed forward with a rush from his soul. The energy collided with the beast’s, continuously repressing it as he felt his powers diminishing by the second.

He pulled a few arrows from his quiver, the few that had yet to break. He willed his power into his hand, and the arrowheads lit up in a familiar glow.

He notched the arrows in between his fingers and threw his hand forwards.

The beast howled even harder as it felt its skin being penetrated twice, before it finally fell down when the third arrow bit into the side of its head.

It whimpered quietly as it spasmed.

The hunter approached the beast and realized not for the first time how imposing it was.

It was at least several times his size. Its long crests lay limply by its neck and shivered every so often as its golden drool scalded the grass beneath it.

Its blood soaked the soil in deep shades of sizzling purple as it pooled in a circle around it.

It wasn’t dead. Not yet.

Its power had diminished, but he could still feel the slight pressure emanating from deep within its soul.

He stepped over the pooling blood and knelt by its side, wary of any movement.

He willed power into his hand. He felt it waver and wane ever so slightly. The fight had taken its toll on him. He was ready to collapse from exhaustion.

He thrust his appendage into the beast’s side and pulled out its heart. It whimpered for a while before its gaze hazed over and its beating heart stopped thumping between his fingers.

He felt it harden as the seconds went by, before it eventually froze and solidified into a purple, crystalline shape.

He pocketed it and stood up, then moved around the downed beast and retrieved his embedded sword.

He swung it around and flicked some of the blood and fat off its blade, before sheathing it away.

His gaze wavered and blurred for a bit as he cradled his throbbing head in his relatively cleaner hand.

He staggered backward before falling on his back.

The last thing he remembered before a veil of darkness wrapped around his consciousness was the emerald petals of a majestic flower filling his waning sight.

----------------------------------------

The cup slid from her twitching fingers and crashed to the wooden floor in pieces.

She bent down to clean up the mess, before her slender finger pricked on a piece of glass, drawing a thin trail of blood.

She brought her hand closer for inspection and stared at her bleeding appendage.

She wasn’t usually one to believe in superstitions, but given the circumstances, she found herself sensitive to the idea.

The young master had been gone for over a week now, and she was starting to worry.

She had overheard the villagers talking and whispering down in the market, when they were too busy to pay attention to her and whisper behind her back.

They had spoken of strange occurrences in the forest. 

Sudden disappearances and bloody carnages throughout the Great Domain.

The village chief had ordered the hunters to stay in the village, reinforcing the local guards in case something were to happen.

She clenched her bleeding hand over her chest, her eyes tightening as she thought back to her young lord.

He had decided to go into the woods despite the warnings and admonitions.

She had wanted to go with him, but he refused.

Someone had to stay home and watch over the household.

She admitted to herself that she would have been more of a dead weight than anything out in the forest. Despite her worries, the young master was still one of the strongest people she knew, even after all they witnessed.

Still, she couldn’t help but frown as she stared through the window that overlooked the shadowed path that lead down to the village.

Something was brewing in the distance. She just hoped the young lord would be back soon.

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He woke up to the feeling of something wet and soft licking his cheek.

His eyes fluttered open and he tried to move, sending the small creature that disturbed his rest away in a panic.

He groaned in pain as his tired and bruised body struggled to stand.

He gave up after a moment of fruitless endeavor, deciding to lay down on the soft, grassy carpet of the forest floor while his groggy mind recollected the memories of the earlier events.

The sun was already starting to dip towards the horizon. The afternoon would soon merge into the evening, tinting the sky in shades of orange and red.

He pulled at his soul, checking the state of his reserves.

The probe came back in a slow, dizzying sensation.

He had almost expanded all of his energy on the earlier fight.

A few more strokes of his blade or flicks of his arms and he would have drained his soul dry.

He sighed as he tried to rub the exhaustion from his face.

He made to stand, and his body groggily complied.

He distractedly wondered how long he had been unconscious as he stretched his limbs and probed his body.

He winced as his hand patted the side of his torso.

He inhaled deeply, and cringed at the sharp pain from his lungs.

He had broken a few ribs and bruised his back.

The altercation could have gone a lot worse, he decided.

He collected his hair in a bundle and tied it into a short ponytail, a few bangs hanging loosely by the sides of his face.

He patted down his soiled clothes and rearranged his muddied cloak as he made his way to the cool body of the Lobo.

It had completely bled out. Its thick, purple blood covered a good portion of the vicinity in a drying pool of corrosive liquid.

He glanced down at his fingerless gloves and winced at the scorch marks on his forearm guards.

His equipment had thankfully shielded his arms from the splashes of the creature’s blood during the fight.

The fingers of his right hand however, were still recovering from when he stabbed the creature’s side and pulled out its heart.

Thankfully, the energy from his soul had cloaked his arm and protected it from the beast’s inherent acidity.

His musings ceased as he remembered the moments that preceded his loss of consciousness.

His eyes darted back to where he fell, and locked on the flowers that seemed to glow among the grass.

A small smile broke on his face as he approached and dropped to his knees.

He uprooted the flowers and gently scooped them in his hands.

“Everblooms.” His voice sounded hoarse.

He brought the flowers closer to his nose and inhaled.

He winced as the sharp smell filled his nostrils.

He had almost forgotten how bad those flowers smelled.

He wrapped them in a piece of his cloak before storing them in his satchel.

He turned back to the body of the Lobo. To the lacerations and bruises that marred its fur when he first faced it.

He threw some dirt over the drying blood and waited for a moment, before stepping closer to the beast and crouching.

He ran his fingers over its maw, all the way across its head and caressed its neck.

There was a distinct trace under its fur. Almost as if the beast had been chained and collared for a time.

He cupped his chin as he continued to pat its fur and lost himself in his thoughts.

Lobos were proud and wild beasts. Considered by many as some of the most fearsome and dangerous creatures of the Great Domain.

It was hard to consider such a beast being submissive and as docile as a pet. But the marks around its neck spoke of months, if not years of servitude.

He briefly considered the fact that, perhaps, the Lobo was a pup, barely older than a few years, but he quickly squashed the thought.

The coloration and shape of its crests was a clear sign of its age.

The creature in front of him was at least a couple decades older.

Sweat dropped down his forehead before he ceased his investigation and stood to full height.

It wasn’t the time to lose himself in possibilities and theories.

He had an objective to fulfill, and was eager to go back to his family.

He considered salvaging the Lobo for its meat, but decided against it.

The way its blood was still sizzling, he doubted it was edible.

----------------------------------------

The hike up the slope was exhausting, he concluded.

He was already reeling from his fight with the lobo, and the journey back home promised to be just as trying.

He winced as he nursed his bruised side and marched through the woods.

He glanced around him, wary and cautious.

He wasn’t willing to let himself be ambushed again. Especially not in his current state.

His gait was more like a stagger than a proper walk, but he couldn’t waste time.

The Everblooms needed to be fresh for their medicine to have any effect. He had at most a week to make it back home and brew the concoction for his mother and aunt.

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His wounds turned out worse than he had anticipated.

Small amounts of blood seeped through his mouth and fell to the ground as he supported his weight against a nearby tree.

He wiped his mouth when the stream of blood ceased and stared at the pool of crimson liquid at his feet.

It had been two days since his altercation with the shade beast.

He was still a few days away from home.

His broken ribs and bruises made the journey a tad harder than it should have been. But his wounds were healing. The rate of his recovery was slow, but his powers were already diminished after his fight with the lobo. Anymore and he would lose consciousness again.

He pulled up his tunic and ran his hand over the patch of herbs and berries he had chewed and roughly applied over his bruises.

At least, they weren’t infected.

He pulled down his garment and pushed himself off the tree, resuming his slow march towards home.

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Something strange was happening in the Great Domain.

He was aware of the village chief’s warnings when he decided to venture into the forest, despite his cousin’s best attempts at dissuasion.

The sight before him, however, drove the precariousness of the situation further home.

Blood splatters painted the trees and bushes around him in deep shades of drying crimson.

Broken branches and stomped shrubs were nothing compared to the cleaved trees and gouged patches of dirt along the path.

Something powerful passed through here.

Something savage and lusting for blood.

He gulped.

He was closer to home now.

Thankfully, wherever the thing that caused this carnage was headed, it was away from the village.

He gathered his senses anew and considered following the bloody trail.

He put one step forward, then followed with the other, before brusquely stopping.

A wild, loud howl sounded from deep within the forest, further down the path he had decided to follow.

He heard faint shouts and cries, followed by the sounds of stomping feet and excited growls.

He dove into the bushes, out of the way, and hugged the forest floor.

He waited.

Time seemed to stretch into a long, heavy spell of unease and fear.

He could feel his heart beating harder as the sounds closed in on his location.

He clamped a hand over his thumping chest and vainly willed his fears away, eyes still cast on the path ahead, watching for any movement from beneath the foliage of the bushes.

Then, as if breaking a spell, a single figure staggered along the path and collapsed to its knees, panting and huffing as its eyes darted behind it.

The heavy bearded man stumbled back on his hands as he shuffled away from the creatures that howled at him.

The young hunter’s heart seemed to stop as he beheld the sight of three Lobos stomping their way towards the man, two on either of his sides and one leering at him from the front.

For a moment, Man beheld shade beasts, as shade beasts hissed at their prey.

Then, another figure strode into the scene.

Big, hulking muscles, bulging beneath bronze skin, carried the new actor towards the man, the Lobos lowering their heads and whimpering away as it approached.

It towered over the blubbering form of the stunned and fear-stricken man.

It was almost as tall as the trees around them.

A long, rough club of solid wood was clamped in its hand, while the other scratched at its bulging stomach.

It smiled at the cowering man. The motion offering them a peek at its yellow, rotting teeth, even as its one eye lazily roamed over the man and the puddle that was quickly stretching beneath him.

He gulped, his own heart seized by a feeling of powerlessness as he eyed the quartet of beasts from behind the dubious safety of a meager bush.

The man opened his mouth, even as the tears stained his cheeks, to vainly plead for his life.

Until his upper body exploded in a shower of blood and gore.

He clamped a hand over his mouth as he let out a faint gasp.

The giant retracted its club and let its eye wander lazily around.

When his eyes locked onto the creature’s unique globe, he felt dead, paralyzed by the hopelessness of his situation, until its eye continued to wander away.

The Lobos hesitantly lunged at the mess of blood and bone, their fangs digging into the flesh.

He ignored the disgusting smell of burnt hair and sizzling blood as he kept his eyes on the giant that was starting to drag its feet backward.

It opened its mouth, and out came a sound so bizarre and grotesque that he felt his ears popping from the pressure of such a simple gesture.

The Lobos staggered away from what was left of the body before slowly following the giant as it finally walked away from the scene and disappeared into the forest.

He kept his eyes on the darkness of the canopy, expecting the creatures to come back at any moment to tear him into pieces.

He felt himself going numb as a feeling of dizziness threatened his consciousness.

He let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding and was assaulted by the putrid smell that seemed to linger where the giant had stood.

He stayed immobile, body prone and kissing the ground, comfortable in the relative safety of his cover.

He let the moment stretch until his fear eventually dissipated and the sounds of the forest returned.

He stood up warily, his senses sharp and his muscles tensed.

He stalked his way through the shrubs and out onto the bloody path.

He scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows at the gory scene in front of him, before turning around and moving away from the scene.

His gait started slow but soon turned into a mad dash as he rushed his way through the forest.

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The door creaked as she pushed with her shoulder, a small tray held between her hands.

Her mother was sitting against the railing of her bed, her back resting on the pillows she had delicately arranged for her as she stared out her open window.

She slowly made her way to the side of the bed.

Her mother smiled, gratefully accepting the small tray and placing it on her lap.

“Thank you, hun.”

She simply nodded and smiled back, before taking a seat next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

The woman took a spoon and sipped at the steaming, thick soup, the liquid soothing her aching throat and warming her body.

“As well as yesterday, Elya.”

The girl’s smile strained and her eyebrows bent upwards, worry evident on her face.

“What about you? How have you been holding?” Her mother asked in turn, before sipping at her food.

She considered her feelings for a moment, thinking back to the young lord who had yet to return.

“I’m fine, mom.” She started. “No need to worry about me.”

The woman smiled and ruffled her hair before turning back to her tray.

“How is lady Sheela doing?” She asked in between spoonfuls.

The girl winced and dropped her smile.

“She…” She began, hesitant. “She needs the medicine, soon.” She picked up an apple and a small knife from the tray and started peeling. “I’ve never seen her so weak before.”

The woman grimaced as she dropped her spoon, her expression contorting into an expression of guilt.

The daughter dropped the half-peeled apple and knife onto the tray and gently embraced her mother.

Child and parent hugged one another in silence as the moment quietly stretched.

“She gave you the medicine out of the goodness of her heart, mom.” The girl said. “Lady Sheela wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“Still…” Her mother quietly sobbed. She seemed so weak and fragile in her arms. The curse was slowly killing her. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something were to happen.”

“Mom—” The girl tried to comfort, but a distant sound took her attention away.

She turned towards the open door, long ears twitching as the sound increased in intensity.

She let go of her mother, kissing her hair and squeezing her hand as the woman nodded back to her.

She vacated the room and made her way through the estate.

The sound reverberated through the empty rooms and corridors, and she soon found herself standing in front of the large double doors that led outside.

She steeled herself and grasped the handles.

They had been coming for the past few days, aware of the master’s absence and seizing the opportunity to try and break into the house.

She had been able to keep them away for the past few days, reminding them of whose property they were intruding upon, but her threats were losing in weight as the days passed.

The villagers were aware of the young lord’s venture into the forest. When the first week passed, rumors started to spread about his demise.

She hated it.

They knew nothing about him. About how strong he was.

He wouldn’t die out in the woods and leave them alone against the looming wrath of the villagers.

They had already started blaming the strange occurrences on them even before the young master departed.

They wanted someone to blame, to appease whatever curse had been cast on these woods. And what better people to accuse than the pariahs that lived on the outskirts, contempt in their reclusive and isolated ways?

her fingers tensed, the door slowly creaking as pushed against the wood.

Her expectations proved true.

She was greeted by the looming figures of three men, their arms crossed and standing menacingly just beyond the entrance.

She recognized the man at the front of the trio. His pale face was framed by thick, blonde hair that reached just below his shoulders.

His brown eyes seemed to bore into her own as she stared back, unflinching. There was something within his gaze that told her something was amiss. Gone was the wariness and unease he usually displayed whenever he so much as put a foot on the beaten path that led up to the estate.

Before her stood a man that knew very well what he wanted, and had finally decided to take it when he knew no one would be able to stop him. She wanted nothing more than to spit in the face of his cowardiness. For reasons unknown, or perhaps all too obvious, he had always looked at her and her family with the same hatred and disgust that scrunched up his face in this very instant. He had never acted on his intentions, however, obviously held back by the only person whose authority he couldn't possibly dream of challenging.

Now however, with that very person gone and possibly... no, she didn't want to think about it. The young master would come back. She would just have to weather the man's glare and appease whatever intentions he had towards her family.

She just hoped she'd have enough strength to stand in his face if push ever comes to shove. 

“Mister Ha’lez,” She started, sparing a glance towards his companions before focusing back on him. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

The man’s brows twitched in irritation as he stepped forward, his lean frame towering over her and obscuring what little sunlight reached this part of village.

“Has he returned?” His eyes bored into the darkness behind her, looking like a small rabbit expecting a lion to prowl out of the dark at a second's notice. A chill ran down her spine when his stance relaxed a moment later and his fingers snapped towards her.

His companions stepped past him and stopped on either of her sides, as if ready to pounce at his word.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she stepped back in ever so slightly, feet skidding behind the threshold. Outrunning them would be impossible. The best she could hope to do was slam the doors in their faces and hide in the darkness if they ever gave chase.

“I take that as a no.” He said, smirking and letting his arms fall to his sides. “I guess even your young lord couldn’t withstand the wrath of the forest.”

She clenched her hands, brows furrowing and jaws clenching.

The men to her sides leered and stood closer.

“The villagers have spoken.” He said. “They have decided on your punishment.” He added as he shared a glance with his companions.

She lunged at him, one foot planted forward as her fist arced towards his jaw.

The hit took him by surprise. He fell back on his bottom, hand cradling his bruised cheek as his companions wrestled the girl and held her against the ground.

“How dare you!” She cried. “This is lord Alden’s home! You have no right to—”

She felt her head throb as her two handlers drove her face into the wooden floor.

The man stood slowly, his eyes filled with nothing but disdain and anger.

“How dare you.” He said in turn, as he stomped her hair and pushed her further into the floor. “My father has been so generously letting you live in and off the village and this is how you repay him?!” he stomped again.

He felt his blood rush as his excitement escalated. He had always eyed the foreign girl with nothing but contempt and hate. How long had he waited for this? To be finally able to handle her so?

He put more strength behind his knee and the girl’s voice whimpered as tears streamed down her face.

“Hey.” He called to her. When she refused to respond, he grabbed a bundle of her crimson hair and forced her to her knees.

The way she cringed and sobbed at his gesture made it even more exciting.

“Look, how about this?” He said as he produced a small knife from somewhere. “I’ll let you live, if you swear an oath to my house. I’ll even leave your mother alone if you so wish.”

He saw her glare darken as the tears silently streaked down her delicate cheeks.

How adorably miserable, He thought.

“Though, of course, I can’t promise the same for the lady and her bastard of a daughter.” He added, his blade slowly tracing the skin of her throat and drawing a thin string of blood.

She snarled and spat blood into his face, her eyes resilient yet strangely resigned.

He calmly wiped at his face, his smile only widening in anticipation.

“Take her inside.” He ordered his acolytes. “We’re going to have some fun.” He leered.

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It took him four more days, but he finally made it back to the village.

He staggered past the last line of trees as he stepped foot onto the grassy plains that surrounded the settlement.

The long-eared guards at the gate straightened as he strode forward.

They beheld his appearance, his clothes ruined and his cloak stained in different shades of varying colors.

He had found a small stream of clear water on his way, but he was sure his face still wore the strains of his expedition.

He passed through the gate unbothered, the guards moving aside, unwilling to confront him in his state.

The villagers stopped on their way to stare at him.

He kept his back straight and chin high, unwilling to show any sign of strain or weakness.

He made it all the way through the market, before a group of people stood in his way, led by an elderly man with tired, weary eyes, his longs ears seeming to droop from old age.

“Lord Alden.” The man spoke, and the cacophony of whispers and voices stopped.

He halted, even as the change in movement caused him to wince.

“Elder.” He responded, his eyes drifting over the amassed masses.

Had they finally had enough? Had they finally decided to get rid of him?

He reached into his soul and let forth a weak wave of pressure.

It washed over the villagers and caused a few of them to stagger back.

The village chief’s expression ever so slightly furrowed.

He smirked. He wasn’t sure such a weak effort would be enough to intimidate them, but it proved sufficient.

The elder winced as he tried to push against the pressure and spoke. “We thought you dead…” he started, but quickly continued as he felt the pressure increase. “…or lost.”

“Well, I am neither.” The hunter responded, his eyes slightly tightening.

“I apologize for my rudeness.” Managed the elder as he bowed in apology. “My son, he…” he spoke with hesitation as his gaze turned to the ground. “I tried to stop him, but in his foolishness…” he spared a glance at the young eldan in front of him.

Alden stared back, his mind already reaching for possibilities and conclusions even as the man hesitated again.

“Speak.” He ordered, his power increasing twofold, sending a few of the villagers to their knees.

“He…” The chief wheezed, struggling against the power that threatened to strangle him. “He went to your estate, my lord. He thought you dead so he—” His lips clamped shut as his face met the ground.

A few of the villagers made to run to his defense, but they soon met the same fate.

The hunter staggered forward, one step at a time, until he was past the paralyzed mass.

“If anything happens to them…” He threatened, his eyes peeking over his shoulder and sending daggers of fear and pressure through their very hearts. “There will be hell to pay.”

He walked away from the market and stopped after taking a turn to steady his wavering mind. He rubbed his temples as he supported himself with one hand against a passing structure.

He glanced up, towards the winding path that led up the hill shrouded by thick trees and heavy grass.

He willed himself forward and ran with a rush from his soul.

----------------------------------------

She tried to protest, feebly thrashing in her captors’ grasp.

They led her through the corridors, even as she cursed and yelled at them to stop.

They followed a light down a winding corridor and soon stood at the entrance to her mother’s room.

She moaned as they threw her to the floor, her side harshly colliding with the wooden surface.

Her mother gasped and yelled, her voice still weak and hoarse from the curse.

She attempted to stand, but only managed to collapse near her daughter.

The men sneered and the leader approached.

“You two.” He gestured for his companions. “Go find the lady and her child. Leave these two to me.” He ordered.

They complied as they soon left the room.

“You bastards!” The girl yelled as she lunged forward.

He caught her fist easily and clutched down with small effort.

The girl winced and groaned, the pain sending her back to her knees.

The man smiled, satisfied.

“…ease…” He heard the girl speak, her voice low and muffled by her tears and sobs.

“What?” He asked, hand still clutching the girl’s.

“Please…” he heard her plead and promptly kicked her away.

She landed at her mother’s knees, the woman quickly yet feebly hugging her in a protective embrace.

“Pleading for your life now, Eldan?” He asked, a hand on his hip while the other reached for his knife.

“Please… let them live.”

He stopped, his smirk twisting into a frown.

“You can do whatever you want to us, but please…” She pleaded again, separating herself from her sobbing mother and prostrating herself in front of the man.

“Elya…” her mother reached for her but was too weak to pull her back.

“Please, let them live, I…” She quivered, glancing back at her mother before bowing again. “We will do whatever you want, but let them live!”

She reached for his boot, willing to shame herself even further if it meant the safety of the Lady and her daughter.

He had asked her to watch over them, and she had given her word. Having them die before she gave her everything would be much worse than having to live with the shame of their deaths on her hands.

The man flicked her away with a kick.

He reached for her hair and dragged her to her feet.

“You damned Eldans!” He snarled in her face. “You still think you can tell me what to do?!” He brought his knife closer, dangerously caressing her tear stricken cheek.

“Please…” she added, weakly.

They both felt it, before the pressure clamped down on the man and dropped him to his knees.

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He lunged through the open entrance, mind whirring as he extended his senses in a frantic effort.

His probe came back a short moment later and hit him with a dizzying spell.

He soldiered through the pain and haze as he bolted down a corridor and up a flight of stairs.

The door to his mother’s room was already open.

He could hear the faint whimpers of his sister as he ran up to the doorway.

His mother was laying in her bed, holding her daughter in her weak, emaciated embrace.

Two men stood on either side of the bed, each a blade in hand.

Her panicked stare broke from their dangerous leers and stopped on his outraged expression.

“Alden…” She whispered in wide-eyed relief.

The two goons were promptly thrown through the walls in a rush of power and rage.

She felt it, and recognized it.

Gentle as a warm, caressing breeze, it washed over her and her mother in a comforting embrace.

Hard as an indomitable mountain, it broke over the man’s shoulders and brought him to his knees.

She stared in wonder as his eyes rolled back into his skull and his body collapsed backward.

She glanced back at her mother, her expression similarly full of relief and wonder.

She made to stand, but felt her knees still weak and shaky.

She trudged on her elbows, slowly making her way towards the door before stopping as her eyes met the tip of a muddy pair of boots.

Her misty gaze slowly traveled upwards, tracing the contours of the soiled cloak that loosely hugged his body before stopping on his silver eyes.

He dropped to his knees and she quickly rose to support him, her unresponsive legs be damned.

She hugged him close, even as he limply lay against her and stared at his back in disbelief.

“Elya…” he whispered.

She almost collapsed as his entire weight leaned into her smaller frame.

She felt a blush tint her cheeks and held onto him for dear life, even as her tears started anew, staining his cloak and soaking the collar of his tunic.

“I am here, my lord…” she whispered back, a smile on her face that had been absent for far too long.

Even as his consciousness started to fade, he thought back to the night he spent in that hollow tree.

The rain was strangely warm, he thought.