The afternoon sun cast a hazy glow over everything in front of Hector, its rays intensifying the humid swamp's torment on his skin. Sweat poured from him, forming a perfect buffet for the relentless swarm of bugs that flew around him. He had never seen so many bugs, each one larger and faster than any he had encountered before.

Swatting at the endless horde, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of sulfur and bog rot surrounding him, his stomach churning dangerously. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have paid the smell much heed, nor would he have struggled to move through the swamp. But without the use of Aether, he was at the mercy of his surroundings.

It had been two weeks since Hector, Ilistina, and two royal guards; Aerendil and Larissa embarked from the Dreamwood on a mission to secure the Serpentine Bloodstone. Initially, Ilistina had refused to bring Hector, asserting that he was too weak to travel. Yet, he had eventually convinced her to take him, arguing that they couldn't keep him hidden in Starhaven for more than a few days without drawing suspicion. Rumors of a human in the Royal Palace were something neither he nor the Elves would appreciate. If anyone recognized him, House Salizia would be under threat, and Lundale would be dragged into Vanura’s internal conflicts.

Trying to take another step, Hector heard the unpleasant squelch of his back foot wrenching free of the mud, his front foot sinking a little deeper into the putrid environment as his whole-body weight was put on it. Blind me, he cursed as Aerendil reached over and grabbed his arm.

“Make sure he doesn't falter,” Ilistina instructed, glancing over her shoulder at Aerendil. The royal guard silently nodded, the elf’s Aether-filled body effortlessly keeping him balanced atop a root that rose out of the swamp’s murky depths.

Aerendil was what everyone expected an Elf to look like—tall and muscular, with long golden hair that reached just below his shoulders. His pale face, seemingly carved from marble, showed little emotion. He was silent and rarely spoke, but he was always there to steady Hector when he stumbled. If it were not for him, Hector was sure that he would have fallen into the swamp multiple times.

“We need to rest soon,” Hector panted as he straightened up and took a deep breath. “It’s almost time for me to take another potion.”

“Already?” Ilistina questioned, her head swiveling around as she attempted to determine the location of the sun. The drooping tree branches in the swamp formed a curtain of spindly fingers, obscuring the sky, making it almost impossible to tell time. “This place is cured,” she muttered as she squinted, her eyes facing the direction the sun appeared to be. “Even if I could communicate with the swamp, I’d never want to live here.”

Grunting in agreement, Hector steadied himself for his next step. “Do you see a place we can use to rest?” he panted.

“Prince Hector, there's a fallen tree that we can stand on,” Larissa called back to him from the front of the party. Her golden hair, streaked with mud, looked like dirty, wet straw, but her blue eyes were still sharp. Judging by her smile, Hector suspected that she actually enjoyed pushing through the swamp. “The tree is wide enough for us to set up camp if necessary.”

“That sounds like a good idea, let's rest there,” he breathed.

Looking at the direction indicated by Larissa, Hector’s shoulders dropped—he would have trouble getting there; the mud and vegetation were thicker than where he was currently standing. He would need help. Reluctantly allowing Aerendil to assist him, he could not help but wince, his pride hurt from the action. Logically, he knew getting help was not a sign of weakness, but he couldn’t help the sting he felt. He had always been the one offering help, and finding himself on the receiving end felt uncomfortable. “Lead the way,” he managed to say, the forced smile on his face twisting slightly. Aerendil’s grunt of acknowledgment did not help.

The fallen tree was massive, with over half of its trunk submerged in the muck, thick layers of moss and fungus clinging to it like tattered clothing. Sprouting out from under the layer of moss and growth were new branches as thick as a man’s arm reaching upwards. The fallen tree had refused to die.

Observing the tree, Hector marveled at its size, even though only half of it was out of the mud, he was sure that over five individuals could comfortably stand on it widthwise, with room to spare. Allowing Aerendil to half carry and half drag him, Hector settled down with a heavy thud, his bones protesting the sudden jolt. “I feel old,” he chucked, reaching for the water skin tied to his waist. “Thank you for helping me.”

As usual, Aerendil grunted in reply.

Taking large gulps of the stagnant water—that tasted heavenly to his parched throat, Hector looked over at Ilistina. “Do you have any idea where to search for the serpent?” he asked, capping up the water skin and securing it to his waist.

“No, but once we search deeper into the swamp, we should be able to find traces of the serpent cultists.”

Nodding in understanding, Hector carefully unstrapped the leather pouch he had tied to his chest and placed it carefully on the decaying log. Opening it, he revealed neat rows of small vials that were nestled safely together—golden, honey-like liquid within most of the vials. Unfortunately, the leather pouch had not kept the swamp water out causing the interior to become wet with putrid water.

Reaching down into the damp pouch, Hector grimaced as he retrieved a vial. Fiddling with the cap he clumsily opened it before quickly downing the contents in one swift gulp. As the potion coursed through his body, he felt it rapidly spread out, infusing every part of his body in waves of warmth and energy. Feeling his tight muscles start to loosen, he could not help but sigh in relief. “I can never quite get used to this,” he muttered, his body slowly regaining some of its lost strength. Though he still couldn’t draw any Aether, the healing of his physical form was a blessing he looked forward to every day.

“The effects of the potion will soon become weaker,” Ilistina reminded him, her eyes studying the swamp.

“It’s already happening,” Hector admitted, “It’s not as strong as yesterday.”

“Then we need to find the Serpentine Bloodstone quickly.”

“I agree. The sooner the better.” Returning the now-empty vial into his pouch, Hector pulled the strings tight to close it. Strapping the precious medicine back onto his body, he adjusted his clothes before asking. “Does anyone need more time to rest?”

As the words escaped his lips, a shadow passed over his face the abrupt dimming of the surroundings causing him to glance upward. Eyes widening in surprise, he watched a massive, bird-like creature silently soar overhead, its eyes scanning the area.

“Garuda!!”

Moving purely on instinct, Hector hurled himself off the massive fallen tree they were standing on, vaguely aware that the elves were doing the same. With a sickening splash, he struck the putrid mud, his body instantly covered in it. Ignoring the mud, he rolled as swiftly as he could, pressing himself against the fallen tree, his body halfway submerged in the swamp.

The garuda was massive, sporting an eagle-like head atop a strangely human-shaped body, four razor-sharp talons slicing through the air as it circled the area. Looking up from his hiding place, Hector could tell this creature was not to be trifled with, its strength and agility indicating that even Arcane Masters would have trouble fighting it.

Stolen story; please report.

Heart beating painfully against his chest, he held his breath as he silently willed the creature to leave, his hand clutching at the hilt of his massive saber. Go, go! There’s nothing for you here! Go! Hector knew he would be virtually useless in a fight against this creature, but if it decided to try to hunt them, he knew he would fight back. He would not die without a fight. “Go. Go,” he whispered under his breath.

Unaware of Hector’s silent prayer, the creature continued to lazily circle the vicinity, its golden-brown feathers casting a dark shadow on wherever it flew over. After completing three or four circles, the garuda seemed to pause in the air, its wings keeping it perfectly hovering in place. With the swiftness of lighting, the monstrous bird dove, its massive beak outstretched, wings tucked in to resemble an arrow in flight.

Hector watched in awe and a hint of terror, as the garuda cut through the air at speeds he could not believe, its massive form almost too difficult to track. With a resounding crash, the garuda struck the surface of the swamp, its massive claws extending outwards just before impact, its sharp eyes locked onto a target. What unfolded next left Hector gasping in disbelief, his mouth agape.

Chaos erupted where the garuda struck; putrid water and muck flew everywhere as the garuda gave a shrill cry of victory before dragging a massive, thrashing snake, from the swamp. The snake was enormous, dark in color, almost purple, its scales glinting in the dim light. Wrestling desperately, the snake tried to coil its body around the garuda, but it could not, its head was helplessly ensnared in the mighty talons of its captor. Ignoring the snakes’ futile struggles, the garuda effortlessly took flight, the enormous snake clutched in its talons.

Almost as if it knew it would perish if it were taken from the swamp, the snake fought back with everything it had, its whole body wildly thrashing about, trying to break free. The garuda, however, did not give it a chance to fight back. Using its terrifying talons, it maintained a brutal death grip on the wriggling snake, the tips of its talons sinking deeply into the snake’s armor-like scales. Opening its eagle-like beak, the garuda swiftly tore at the stomach of the snake splitting the snake in two. Seemingly content with its hunt, the garuda flew away with the snake, ignoring Hector and the elves.

“I didn't believe that garudas were real,” Larissa gasped, using her hands and legs to push herself out of the mud. Her face was covered in mud, but she had a grin on her face. “That was exciting!”

Spitting putrid water out of his mouth, Hector stared at her in disbelief. The elf was smiling! She was enjoying herself!

“I also thought they were just a myth,” Ilistina remarked from behind him. Scraping the mud that clung to her body like a second skin, she flung her hands downwards splashing mud everywhere. “From what I remember…” She froze, her eyebrows narrowing in thought. Spinning around to face the direction the garuda had flown she asked. “Hector, do you know the legend of the garuda?”

“I am not well-versed in myths,” Hector admitted, his knowledge primarily encompassing war, government, and topics essential for Vanura’s safety.

“Legends say that garudas exclusively prey on snakes,” Ilistina said, her body already moving in the direction the garuda had vanished. “If we locate its nest, we may find a Serpentine Bloodstone! Follow me!”

“Wait, let me catch my breath,” Hector said, his heart beating excitedly. This was the first clue they had found. Floundering through the swamp he chased after the Elven Queen, his weak body protesting every step. “I’m fine, make sure the Queen doesn’t leave us behind,” he panted to the two guards that kept close to him. He could tell by their concerned gazes, that they were worried about Ilistina. “Only one of you needs to stay with me. The other should catch up to the Queen.”

“Thank you, Prince Hector.” Nodding at Aerendil, Larissa sprinted deeper into the swamp, her Aether-enhanced body allowing her to close the distance between Ilistina and herself in moments.

“Let us try our best to keep up,” Hector grunted as he took another step, his foot sinking into the swamp. Aerendil nodded silently in response.

Following Ilistina through the swamp took every ounce of Hector’s skill and patience, yet he still had trouble. It had been hours since he had last seen her, and his body was starting to slow. Silently putting one foot in front of the other, he reminded himself that he was the one who had insisted on joining them in the swamp. Jaw tight from how hard he was gritting his teeth, he clutched at a vine wrapped around an old tree, pulling himself out of the waist-deep mud, his body shaking from the effort.

“You're getting better at moving through the swamp,” Aerendil remarked, his hands steady on Hector’s arm as he guided Hector toward solid ground.

Caught off guard by the elf’s unexpected words, Hector paused mid-step. “I still have room for improvement, but thank you,” he finally replied, feeling embarrassed. Taking the elf’s silence as acknowledgment, he took the last couple of steps to solid ground.

Exhaling in relief as he stepped out of the mud, Hector sat down, his shoulders dipping as the air left his lungs. He was tired but at least the insects were no longer bothering him. Breathing in the humid air through his mouth, he stopped to wonder why. Why are the bugs no longer swarming me? What’s changed? Looking down at his mud-covered body he grimaced. It’s the mud. He realized. It’s keeping the bugs away.

Closings his eyes as he came to terms with the fact he would need to be covered in mud if he wanted to keep the bugs away, he wondered if Aerendil had been telling the truth. Was he getting better at moving through the swamp? Or did he just say that to comfort him? I don't think Aerendil is the kind to lie, he thought to himself. I suspect he only says what he truly believes.

Looking back at the direction he had come from, Hector made quick calculations. At the speed he was moving and how tired he felt, he realized the elf had been right. He was getting better at moving through the swamp. He was still exhausted, but they had covered more ground than the day before. What am I doing differently? he wondered, the lines on his face deepening in thought. The potion’s efficiency is dropping so I should be moving slower, but I’m not. Am I cutting out unnecessary movements? I didn't think I still had unnecessary movements but that’s all I can think of. Is not having the ability to draw Aether forcing me to be more optimal in my movements? Have I been using Aether as a crutch the whole time?

Taking out his water skin, he fiddled with the opening as he mulled over his conclusion. If he was right, he had been too reliant on Aether. His mastery over his body was not as good as he thought. Now that he could not draw any Aether, his failings and weakness were becoming evident.

Bringing the water skin to his lips—which caused some of the dried mud on his face to flake off, he watched as Aerendil hopped onto a large boulder to get a better view of his surroundings. Standing up, Hector brushed the mud off his backside—considering how much mud was caked on him, the act was useless, but he still did it. When I get back, I need to rethink my training. I can still become stronger, he thought. “Which way did they go? It’s been hours since we split up,” he called to Aerendil. “We need to find a place to set up camp soon.”

“Larissa left a marking,” Aerendil replied, his hand pointing toward a large mound of dirt that stuck out of the swamp. The mound was covered in long green grass, and what looked like decaying mushrooms—some of which looked as if they had been flattened by someone’s footsteps.

Squinting to get a better view of the mound, Hector noticed a bent branch poking out of a cluster of mushrooms, the bent end pointing deeper into the swamp. “I see it,” he said, nodding at Aerendil. “Once I've taken my potion, we can proceed. I’ll drink it now.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, Aerendil kept his attention on the swamp, his head tilted slightly. “I believe I can hear Her Majesty returning,” he called down.

Glancing up from retrieving his potion, Hector closed his eyes and concentrated on his ears. He didn’t hear anything but that was expected. Even if he could draw Aether, the elves’ natural ability to hear was better than his. “How close are they?” he asked.

“Ten minutes.”

Taking a moment to empty the contents of the vial he had, Hector signed in relief as his body instantly felt better. “Let’s wait here until they return.”

Hector heard the approaching elves before he saw them, the eerie bird calls Larissa was making, giving up their position before his eyes found them.

“Did you locate the garuda?” he called out, observing as their long ears twitched at the sound of his voice.

“No. But we found something even better,” Ilistina shouted back, her melodic voice covering the distance between them in a second, a hint of excitement resonating within it. “We lost the garuda when it flew across the first mountain range. But we found what appears to be an abandoned city. Most of it is broken down but from the outside, it looks massive.”

“A city?” Hector questioned as the two elves reached them. Their faces were flushed from the journey. “Is it the one your ancestors found?”

“I don’t know. We came back before exploring it. But even if it’s not, there should be useful information in it. In the worst-case scenario, we can use it to make camp for the day.”

Taking a deep breath, while moving his shoulders to loosen them, Hector nodded. “Then we press on,” he said. “Lead the way.”