0.23

"To the shore!" Nox yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos.

"To the shore!" he repeated, desperation creeping in. "Keep swimming."

Turo’s weight dragged him down, and his muscles burned as his lungs screamed for air, but he refused to let go.

When the raft had collapsed, the lake had swallowed them both. For a moment, Nox had flailed in the darkness, the storm lantern extinguished, the shouts of the others lost in his own heartbeat. He thought it was over. Then his hand had struck something beneath the surface—a shoulder, limp and heavy. Instinct had took over. He had grabbed hold and kicked upward, hauling Turo to the surface.

Now the shore loomed impossibly far, but Nox pushed forward. Somehow, he got them onto slid land. The how hardly mattered. What mattered was that Turo wasn’t breathing.

The men dragged themselves out of the water, coughing, gasping, collapsing onto the rocky shore. Their soaked clothes clung to their skin, and the air stung their lungs. Bhola retched water onto the stones. Khotal lay flat, staring blankly at the cloudy sky.

Nox ignored them. He dropped to his knees beside Turo’s lifeless body. Water pooled beneath him, dripping from Turo’s hair and open mouth.

“Turo!” Nox shouted, his voice raw. He pressed his ear to Turo’s chest. Nothing.

“Wake up!” He tilted Turo’s head back, opened his mouth, and pressed on his chest with trembling hands. “One, two, three…” He pinched Turo’s nose and breathed into his mouth. Nox's frantic breathing drowned out the faint sloshing of the lake.

“Breathe!” Nox slammed his palms down harder. “One, two, three!” Another breath. “One, two—”

Turo’s chest heaved. Water poured from his mouth as he coughed and gasped, twisting onto his side.

Nox sagged back onto his heels, trembling as relief swept through him. “You’re alive,” he whispered, gripping Turo’s shoulder.

Turo blinked at him, dazed, his breaths shallow and uneven. “Nox…” he rasped.

“You’re safe,” Nox said, though the words rang hollow.

A nervous murmur rippled through the men. Nox turned to see Bhola and Khotal huddled together, their faces pale and drawn.

“This… this isn’t right,” Bhola whispered, his wide eyes darting over their surroundings.

“What do you mean?” Nox asked, still catching his breath.

Bhola pointed toward the gnarled, twisted trees looming around them. Their blackened branches jutted into the sky like claws, silhouetted against the jagged peaks of the Maverielle Mountains. The air felt heavier here, charged with an unspoken dread.

“The forbidden shore,” Khotal's voice trembled. “We’re in the forbidden part of the lake.”

Nox frowned and followed their gaze. He had heard the stories—everyone in Tuscanvalle had. The forbidden shore, a place cursed by legends where no one returned from, swallowed by its shadows. But he’d always dismissed the tales as old wives’ warnings, as was Calla's every other story.

“Stop talking nonsense,” Nox snapped, though unease coiled in his chest. “We’re alive. That’s what matters.”

“No,” Bhola whispered, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. No one comes here and leaves. The spirits—they don’t let you.”

“Spirits or not,” Nox said, his voice hardening, “we’re not staying. We’ll find our way back to the village. Together.”

“Oh gods! Oh gods! Oh gods!” Khotal’s panicked voice rose in pitch as he staggered to his feet, only to collapse again, his legs buckling beneath him. He scrambled backward on his hands and feet, his gaze fixed on something near the water’s edge.

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“It’s coming! Run!” he gasped. “Run! Oh gods, save us! Save me!” His cries broke into wild, incoherent shrieks.

Bhola whipped his head around, searching the shoreline frantically. “What? Where?”

“I don’t see anything!”

"There!" Khotal pointed a trembling finger at the shoreline. "It's coming. It's coming."

"Where?" Bhola whined, scrambling to his feet.

"Right there! Oh gods, it's crawling!"

"Calm down," Nox said sharply, pulling the knife from his waistband as he stood. "It’s probably a crocodile. They’re dangerous in the water, but not on land. That’s our territory. Just stay back." He stepped forward, adopting a defensive stance.

"Damn it, Nox!" Khotal screamed, still dragging himself away on his backside, one hand outstretched as if to pull Nox toward him. "That’s not a crocodile. It… it has hands."

Nox let out a dry chuckle, trying to keep the others grounded. "Crocodiles do have arms."

"Yeah, they do. But they don’t wave at you, do they?" Khotal’s voice trembled with panic.

"Oiiiii…" Bhola’s voice cracked as he stumbled backward. "I see it now. That’s not a crocodile. Not even close. It’s a ghost!"

"A ghost!" Khotal echoed, his tone breaking into a shriek.

"Enough!" Nox snapped. "If you’re that scared, help Turo up and get away from here."

"He didn’t see it," Khotal mumbled, his voice unsteady.

"Yes, he didn’t see it," Bhola echoed, edging toward Turo and fumbling to pull him upright.

Nox turned his gaze back to the shoreline. A dark silhouette crawled slowly toward them, its movements unnatural. He squinted, refusing to believe the others. Ghosts aren’t real, he thought. This was just panic talking.

"Nox," Turo croaked, his voice weak but urgent. "Back off." He struggled to steady himself on trembling legs.

Nox glanced at Turo to check if he was alright. Above them, the clouds shifted, and a sliver of moonlight broke through. The pale light spread over the shoreline, illuminating the crawling figure.

Turo’s eyes widened in a mix of confusion and fear. His voice trembled as he pointed. "It does have hands… and a head."

"What…?" Nox frowned, his gaze locking onto the creeping figure. "Dias!" he muttered, dropping his knife and rushing forward.

Khotal, Bhola, and Turo gasped, frozen in place as they watched Nox approach the crawling figure. It took them a moment to recognize Dias’s familiar features beneath the mud and blood. But something about the way Dias moved—his slow crawl, his mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish, no words escaping—kept them rooted in place. Suspicion and fear held them back, unsure if he was still himself or something else entirely.

Nox didn’t hesitate.

"Dias, what happened to you?" he asked, his voice laced with urgency. Only now did it strike him that he hadn’t noticed Dias was missing earlier. He’d been too consumed with reviving Turo to count heads.

His eyes darted to the others standing behind him. Something else was wrong. "Where’s Ayan?" he demanded, first to the group, then to the struggling figure before him.

As Nox crouched closer, his heart stopped. Dias’s lower body was gone. All that remained was a jagged mess of torn flesh, blood mixing with the mud in a grisly pool. His breath hitched, his hands trembling. "What happened to you?" he whispered, leaning down.

Dias’s lips moved, but no sound came at first. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. With immense effort, he raised a weak, trembling hand and pointed toward the lake. His voice rasped, barely audible.

"It… took him." His words came haltingly. "Ayan… he’s dead." Each syllable was a battle against pain. "I tried… to save him. But it took…"

His head slumped back, his body limp against the ground.

Khotal, Bhola, and Turo broke free of their paralysis and rushed to Dias’s side.

"Is he… dead?" Turo asked, his voice heavy with concern.

Nox pressed his fingers to Dias’s neck. A faint pulse beat beneath his touch. "Alive. Barely," he said, his forehead creased with worry.

"It was the lake monster," Khotal whimpered, his voice quaking. "It took Ayan. It’ll take us too."

"Gods, save us. Show us mercy," Bhola sobbed, his voice breaking like a frightened child’s.

"This is no time to cry. We need to take him back to the village," Nox said, untying his waist sash. "He needs Kaius immediately."

Without hesitation, he marched to each man and yanked their waist sashes loose, ignoring their protests.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Bhola snapped, grabbing at his belt.

"Stop pulling at me, Nox!" Khotal squawked, trying to shield himself.

"What is this madness?" Turo growled, stepping back.

Nox didn’t answer. He tied the sashes together into a crude, extended bandage and wrapped it tightly around Dias’s shredded lower body to slow the bleeding.

"It’s not enough," Turo said flatly. "He’s still bleeding. Even if we drag him all the way back to Kaius, do you really think Kaius can save him? We’re wasting time and strength on a man who’s already lost."

Nox froze and stared at Turo, as if seeing a stranger. "Are you saying we should leave him behind?"

"What else makes sense?" Turo shot back, his tone cold. "He’s dying. You know it. And we have to find Samora and her cursed child before they cause even more trouble."

Nox straightened. "We try. That’s what we do, Turo. We don’t give up—not on him, not on anyone."

He scanned the group, his eyes burning with determination. "Here’s how we move forward. We split into three groups. Two of us gather materials to build another raft. One of us stays with Dias and keeps him alive until it’s ready. I’ll search for Samora and bring her back. I just hope she made it to land as safely as we did."