The ghastly sound of the creature's entanglement with the lad was akin to the most dreadful symphony of nature's darkest moments. It was a noise that would make even the most stoic of gourmands retch in horror.

Arteus, with a visage as grim as the spectacle before him, drew forth from the depths of his cloak a dagger, its gleam hinting at the fiery determination within his soul. His eyes searched the shadowy expanse of the forest, seeking the source of the unearthly voice that had pierced the silence.

"Show yourself!" He called out, his tone severe, unyielding to the unknown force that lurked amidst the ancient trees.

For a brief moment, the forest remained silent, the only reply being the mournful sigh of the wind. But then, as if in response to his challenge, the shadows coalesced and parted to reveal a figure that seemed to have been born from the very essence of the woods themselves. A girl emerged, her fiery red hair a stark contrast to the snow-laden boughs that arched above her. Her eyes, like twin emeralds set in the heart of a roaring flame, bore into Arteus' soul, their intensity piercing the veil of his shock.

Her body, adorned with only a loincloth that clung to her curves with the tenacity of a lover's embrace, was a vision of beauty that seemed to radiate warmth amidst the frigid wasteland. Her bare feet stepped lightly on the snow, leaving no prints, as if the very ground refused to mar her purity. Despite the biting cold, she walked with the grace of a gazelle, her movements fluid and unencumbered by the harshness of her surrounding. Her beauty, in one word, was ethereal...

And yet, it was not her appearance that held Arteus spellbound. It was her eyes—those piercing emeralds that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. They searched the clearing, looking into the very hearts of the men and beasts that lay before her. Then, with a softness that belied the horror she had just witnessed, she spoke, her voice carrying a tinge of melancholy.

"Was it I who crafted this witchcraft?"

The girl's question echoed through the clearing, a melody of doubt and curiosity that seemed to resonate with the very air itself.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the grisly scene before her, "I am."

Her words hung in the air, a declaration that seemed to challenge the very nature of reality itself.

"Do not be too swift to judge though," she spoke again, her eyes meeting Arteus' with a gentle warmth and smile. "It really isn't what it looks like."

Before Arteus could react or even question her, the girl glided over to the boy, her movements as graceful and silent as the snowfall around them. With a gentle touch, she reached out and placed her barefoot upon his forehead, her eyes closing in concentration.

The boy, who had been silent since the creature crushed his lower half, suddenly let out a wail that seemed to shake the very heavens. His body spasmed and writhed, the snow beneath him staining red with the blood that gushed from his torn legs. Arteus watched in horror as the girl's foot remained in place, her expression calm despite the chaos.

And then, as if by some twisted miracle, the boy's legs began to knit themselves back together. The bone and muscle, shattered and torn just moments before, grew and reformed with a sickening crunch and squelch that could make even the hardened hunters retch. The girl's foot remained steady, her eyes never leaving the boy's as she watched the gruesome scene unfold before her.

"What witchcraft is this?" Arteus demanded, his voice filled with the urgency of a man witnessing the unthinkable.

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Yet she offered no reply, her focus unwavering on the youth whose suffering seemed to diminish with every drop of the lifeblood that stained the earth beneath him.

As the boy's legs grew back, a hush fell over the clearing. The corrupted fleur deer had fled, their eerie shrieks now distant echoes that slowly faded into the enveloping silence.

With the last of the deer's cries vanishing into the night, the girl looked up at Arteus, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. "Do you always talk this much to strangers?" she asked, her voice a melodious blend of curiosity and mirth.

The boy beneath her, his legs now fully restored, had stopped crying, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the girl who had just performed a miracle before his very eyes. The pain, though still present, had been pushed aside by the sheer disbelief and awe that filled him. Arteus, too, found himself at a loss for words, his shock as palpable as the cold that had moments ago paralyzed them all.

Mumbling to himself, he took a tentative step forward, his booted feet crunching the frozen earth beneath him. "What on--," he whispered, the words escaping his lips in a breath of cold mist. "What sorcery is this?"

But before he could find his tongue to question further, the other figures around them stirred to life, their arms unfurling from their bodies as though they had been but slumbering appendages. With movements that seemed uncoordinated, yet eerily synchronized, they approached the girl, bowing their heads in silent reverence.

The girl's demeanor shifted, and she regarded Arteus with an authority that seemed to demand his very soul. "Who are you, and by what right do you trespass upon my lands?"

The procession of hunters retreated as swiftly and silently as they had arrived, leaving only the echoes of their retreating footsteps. And its fair to say the weirdness of this whole encounter was not lost on Arteus.

Because as much as he had seen weird stuff these last couple of days, today definitely took the cake.

"Hey!" The girl called out to him, her voice now light and playful, as though she sought to ease the tension that had coiled around them like a serpent. "You're ignoring me!"

"I... sorry," Arteus stuttered, his mind still racing with the sights he had witnessed. "I-I'm Arteus, from the village, Barley."

"Barley, huh?" she said, her eyes twinkling with a mirth that seemed out of place amidst the horror. "Well you're certainly a ways removed from your village."

"But we can find out why later, i guess," Shrugged the girl, her eyes still holding a hint of mirth.

Suddenly, a shout pierced the tranquil scene, jolting Arteus out of his daze. It was Castrol calling after him, his voice filled with urgency and fear. They, along with Wyatt, had just had just broken free of their paralysis.

The girl's eyes snapped open, her gaze following Arteus' as he looked back at his companions. "Hm?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.

She lingered on their general direction for but a moment, before turning her gaze back to the carcass of the fleur deer. The creature's body was undergoing a strange transformation. The blackness that had consumed it was receding, revealing the creature's natural dual colors of blue and white beneath. It was a sight that was as mesmerizing as it was horrifying—like watching a painting come to life before her very eyes.

"Just like the others," she murmured to herself, her eyes narrowing as she poked it.

"I am Ava," the girl announced suddenly, turning to face Arteus and extending her hand, that was as pale and delicate as the first light of dawn.

"Ava..." Arteus repeated, still struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"Goddess of Sovereign," she elaborated, her voice now a soft, yet commanding whisper. "And this forest is my domain."

"Goddess..." Arteus echoed her, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance that had been struck in the clearing.

Wait, wait, wait. Gods and Goddesses were the stuff of legend, not beings you stumbled upon in a frosty forest.

"Arteus!" Castrol's frantic voice echoed through the forest once more, the urgency in his tone cutting through the heavy silence like a knife through the frosty air.

Ava's smile grew, her eyes alight with a warmth that seemed to thaw the very snow around them. "Your people, the ones from your village," she said, her voice now carrying an air of authority and warmth that seemed to envelop him like a warm embrace. "They will find refuge in Sovereign."

With that, she turned away from the carnage, her bare feet leaving no trace in the snow. "Come," she called over her shoulder, her voice now a siren's song that seemed to tug at his very essence. "We mustn't dawdle."

Goddess of Sovereign, Ava.

Just who are you really??

-To Be Continued-