A frigid breeze brushed over Sergeant Shay Doniggin’s skin as he crouched down and peered through his spyglass. Jumir, the small village he’d been sent to investigate, was a stone’s throw away in the valley below. The rising moons bathed the village in soft light. He surveyed the village with concern, as it was just past sunset, but not a single candle glimmered within the silent houses. Sprawled bodies dotted the dark streets below, and he pinched his nose as a gust of wind brought forth the stench of death.
As we suspected, it’s gone dark, he thought with a sad shake of his head.
Shay knew, as soon as he was issued the assignment with that familiar apologetic tone, he’d find an empty village at best and a massacre at worst. With the recent Sauri Du activity in the area, it was devastatingly common to find thriving towns turned into macabre tombs overnight. He was about to signal for his men to regroup when he saw the first shadow-clad beast emerge from the buildings below.
His blood turned to ice.
Seconds later, spine-chilling screeches tore through the quiet woods. Utter pandemonium broke out as his troops scattered in terror.
The Sauri Du is still here. With dread, he mounted his horse and coaxed it to a gallop.
His companions’ screams receded in the distance. He begged the creators to forgive him for abandoning them, but he had no choice. He didn’t stand a chance against the half-breeds, and he had to report his findings to the capital immediately so the Elite could deal with them. Shay bit his lip as he reached the main road. The threat to the kingdom was growing every day.
The kidnappings marked the beginning of the end. People would vanish without a trace all through the outer regions. Then the first village disappeared. The few survivors claimed halfers—half-animal, demi-human creatures straight out of children’s fairy tales—were to blame.
The Sauri Du quickly stepped forward to claim responsibility for the deaths. Before the king’s Religious Intolerance Act, the Sauri Du had been a small, peaceful cult that worshiped animal spirits. After enduring heavy persecution, they discovered how to enslave half-beasts and radicalized, morphing into the face of the kingdom of Bastil’s rebellion. Despite the army’s best efforts, locating the stealthy killers proved nearly impossible. While they knew of the existence of elusive halfer nests, they didn’t know where they were located. No one ever survived to report them. Shay feared he would soon be silenced as well.
The sergeant knew he shouldn’t push his horse any faster for fear of exhausting it, but dread prickled every fiber of his being. He was being followed. Behind him, the trees shook. Something heavy jumped from branch to branch. One of the half-breeds had obviously noticed his retreat. His horse sensed the danger and picked up its pace on its own accord.
Suddenly, the sounds of pursuit behind him ceased. He dared to glance over, only to find a dark shadow racing through the thick foliage, keeping in stride with him. Once he reached the abrupt end of the forest, he could see the four-legged silhouette clearly.
A tattered cape billowed behind it like a menacing storm cloud. His horse whinnied nervously. Shay knew the creature would attack soon. Desperately searching for somewhere to hide, Shay spotted his salvation in the form of a small farm in the distance. Jerking the reins, his horse’s hooves skidded through the dirt as he steered it into a tight turn.
The beast launched itself into the air a second before the horse changed direction. Its claws raked across Shay’s upper arm and his horse’s hind as it attempted to knock him off his steed. With a shrill cry, the wounded animal lengthened its stride as it galloped toward the farm. Shay peered back just in time to see the halfer hit the ground hard and roll into a crouch.
His horse’s nostrils flared, and perspiration rolled down its flank as it fled the danger. Shay glanced back again and noticed with surprise he was gaining ground. The halfer had to be getting tired. It was fast, but he knew his horse had a larger lung capacity. Shay’s heart fluttered as hope bubbled up inside him. His animal couldn’t keep going at that pace though, and as soon as he rested, the halfer would catch up. They hunted their prey relentlessly. As Shay neared the farm, he came up with a desperate plan. If he could trick the creature into following his horse while he found a new steed, there was a possibility he could make it out alive.
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He steered his horse off the main road and wove through the outer storage buildings in pursuit of the barn. As they passed the looming structure, he dug his heels into its sides so it would keep going before he pulled his feet out of the stirrups and jumped free. He hit the ground hard and tumbled through the dirt as his horse galloped into the night. His shoulder throbbed from the fall, and blood soaked his shirt sleeve. Wearily, he picked himself up and stumbled to shelter as the hoofbeats faded. Shay tried the handle, praying it was unlocked. He let out a sigh of relief as the door swung outward. He hastily barred it behind him before sinking to the ground. He held his breath and pressed his ear to the cool wood, listening for any sign of the halfer. He only heard the chorus of crickets and cicadas.
Is it gone?
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed the moonlight glimmering dimly through the slats of the barn. Nothing disturbed the night.
I couldn't have lost it so easily, he thought while trying to calm his breathing.
Blood slowly flowed down his left arm. He squeezed the wound tighter and bit his tongue as agony shot through him. He hoped his horse’s blood would mask the trail of his own.
The sound of creaking wood echoed around him, causing Shay to jump to his feet. He pressed himself against the old wooden wall and held his breath as he searched in earnest for any movement in the dark. His heart jumped when he caught sight of a shape shifting in the rafters. A rock settled in his stomach. He turned to unbar the door, but it was too late. A muffled thump emanated from behind him as the beast hit the hay-covered floor. Shay tried to toss the latch aside, but his assailant grabbed him and threw him to the ground. The beast’s claws tore through his clothing, leaving deep gouges. As his back connected with the floorboards, he cried out in pain.
His attacker hissed in annoyance. “Stay quiet,” it growled.
The door slowly creaked open behind them, cruelly tempting Shay with the prospect of escape.
“Please! Spare me! I didn’t see anything, I swear,” Shay cried as he fearfully scooted closer to the exit.
Wordlessly, the cloaked figure pulled his hood down. The face of a bearded young man glinted in the sliver of moonlight. Everything about him looked shockingly normal, except for the cat-like tail swishing back and forth behind him and the two fuzzy, pointy ears jutting from the top of his head.
Shay’s eyes widened. “How could you be a halfer? You look so…human.”
He’d always imagined half-breeds were more beast than man, just like the storybooks depicted. The reverse was somehow worse.
The man-beast growled again, revealing fangs where his canines should have been. “I prefer the term halfling, scum.”
Sharp claws tore into Shay’s flesh. He let out a guttural scream, but the beast quickly silenced it with a decisive swipe at his neck. It stood up and watched him as Shay took one last gurgling breath.
The halfling’s golden eyes gleamed in the dim light as he morosely studied the bloodied body and flicked the older man’s blood off his claws. Suddenly, his ears twitched, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He was being watched. He whipped his head around to find a wide-eyed little boy staring at him through the partially opened door, his cheeks stained with tears and his mouth open wide with shock.
The killer froze.
In a high-pitched squeal, the boy started to call for his father. Gripped with panic, the halfer backed away, turning to run as the child’s voice morphed into a terrified shriek. The assassin heard worried voices in the distance as he exited the barn through a hole in the ceiling and bolted across the field. The forest loomed before him, beckoning him into its dark embrace. He dashed into the tree line and ducked behind a large shrub to catch his breath as the little boy’s cries dulled to violent sobs. The halfer’s attention shifted when a loud rustling noise came from behind him. A commanding figure on horseback appeared out of the gloom. The light from the waning moons gleamed off the man’s porcelain fox mask, which hid his face and only left his stubbled chin and stern eyes exposed.
“Ash, what’s that ruckus?” he asked, his tone disclosing his displeasure.
“I ended the spy easily, Master. But a child saw me depart.”
A woman wailed in the distance, and a clamor of voices echoed across the fields. The once dark farm came alive with activity.
“Witnesses aren’t permitted. Kill them all,” the figure said.
Ash looked at his master, his expression contorted, as the command and his morals battled inside him. Only when he accepted the order did his face relax.
“Of course, Master,” Ash said in a monotone voice. “There won’t be any survivors.”
The halfling silently maneuvered his way back into the fields, where some of the farmhands were beginning their search for him. Ash crouched into a predatory stance and stealthily made his way toward his next victim.