Darkness. All I saw was darkness. All I knew was nothingness. For an unknowable amount of time, I remained stagnant and suffering. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel pain. The pain wasn’t exactly physical—because I was adept at ignoring that—but rather it was something else…something more profound.

I looked inside of myself, inside of that darkness, and reflected on the feeling. Slowly, shapes began to make themselves known to me. They were abstract and dully colored, and yet somehow familiar. The strangest thing, however, was that I couldn't see the shapes, only feel them. I knew that their amorphous figures were there, and all I could do was empathize with them. Some of them felt new and sad, some of them felt ancient and angry, and others felt alive and warm. I stewed in the chaos that emerged from those combinations. I wanted to sit in the middle of them all. I didn’t want to shy away from them anymore.

The more I allowed myself to become one with those emotions, no matter how much it pained my heart to do, the more I began to understand them. I have no idea how long I was there, and honestly, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was beginning to see again. Those abstract colors and shapes became more definitive and rigid, forming the moon and the sun. I watched those two shapes trade places many times—more than I could count, they changed. It was then and only then that I realized that change takes time—many days, many nights—and understanding. It requires a mind open to possibility and open to the world. It requires a mind that cares not for what the eyes see, but what the heart feels. I learned that even in the darkest of nights, devoid of any moonlight, or even in the brightest and most burning days, there exists a grey semblance of space. Even when memory only recalls the hazy remnants of truth, there can be a time of growth. And in that space, given that time, hope can manifest…even for someone like me.

And then my living eyes shot awake. I was greeted by the sight of the real world, now waking alongside me. The hazy beginnings of an early morning peered through the window of the unfamiliar room that I was in, partially illuminating the space around me. I saw that I was in a humble abode, one made of simple wood and decorated with simple furniture.

I found that I was laying on a single bed, with only a small nightstand next to me. On that nightstand was a cylindrical shape that I couldn’t quite make out, seeing as it was still obscured by the fading remnants of the night. The rest of the room was fairly small, with only a few things scattered about in it. I saw that there was almost nothing else in the room besides a couple of oak chairs, a single door on the side opposite me, and a few stray pieces of bandages on the ground.

As I slowly tried to sit up, I felt sharp pain make its way down my spine, starting at my neck and ending at the tips of my toes. But that kind of pain is temporary, so I ignored it and continued to prop myself up into a better sitting position.

Following the trial of bandages that I saw, I traced them back to my bed, and ultimately back to me. I saw that my torso was almost consumed by them. As opposed to the standard white color, I saw that these bandages were stained in crusted crimson. It was then that I recalled what had happened before my consciousness faded. I remembered that deadened, yet gloomed face of my friend as he stood atop a pile of corpses. I remembered his frenzied, yellow eyes as they stared into me while he slashed away at my chest. Finally, I remembered the feeling of his warm breath as his fangs bit into my neck. Instantly, I reached up with one hand and felt my neck. I felt them. I felt the unmistakable mark of his bite.

I hope this never heals, I thought to myself.

After a few more moments of sitting in the space, letting my body sort through the awakened emotions that I was feeling, I heard the door creak open. Stepping into the room was a woman in plain clothes, who wore her brown hair in a tight bun. The moment her eyes met mine she stopped in her tracks.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” she said with a slight smile.

“I…I am,” I barely said, my voice croaking from the dryness of my throat. I swallowed and spoke up again. “Where am I?”

“Varunia, honey,” the woman said as she walked over towards me, gently stepping across the wooden floor. She stopped once she got to the right side of the bed and I saw her reach toward the nightstand. It was at that point that I was finally able to see what was sitting upon it. As she adjusted it, bringing into the light, I saw a small, glass vase filled with water. Sitting in that water was a familiar, wilted flower. Its once purple and black exterior was faded, muted in grey. The vigor that it had was now long gone, as it just sat there, limply. The petals that once adorned it were either mostly gone or barely clinging to it.

And yet, I couldn’t help but continue to stare at it. It was like I was seeing it in a new light. There was something so off-putting about how something that I saw as so majestic and perfect was now clinging to the end of its time. In that moment, I finally saw it for what it really was. The charade of its beauty was nothing to me anymore.

“You like that flower, don’t you?” the woman asked.

“I did…” I replied, my eyes still locked on it.

“I found it barely holding on when I brought you in,” she continued to say, reaching toward the, propping it up in the hopes to make it seem like it was more alive than it was. “Honestly, both you and this flower were the same in that regard.”

I then looked at her and said, dejectedly, “Is that so?”

She looked at me with inquisition in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What’s with the sullen face?”

I took a moment to respond. I knew how I felt, but it was hard for my mind to find the right words. After all, these emotions were a bit new to me. However, instead of hiding behind a facade—which I’ve done so many times in my life—I spoke honestly and openly.

“I can’t help but find that flower ugly,” I said. “In fact, I can’t help but wish that I never see it bloom again.”

“Oh really?” she disheartenedly replied. “I found it quite beautiful.”

“There was a time that I did too,” I sighed. “But I have to let it die now, no matter how hard it may be. I found beauty in something that isn’t this flower, although it took me far too long. I guess that’s my burden to bear.”

“We all have those, don’t we?” the woman laughed. “God knows I do. But I can’t imagine what kind of weight you have to carry. I mean, just look at what happened to you when you defended our town from that monster.”

The moment those words left her mouth, a rush of realization and energy filled my body. I shot a worried glance in her direction. “How long has it been?”

“Since what?” she asked me.

“Since I’ve been asleep—since you found me.”

She took a moment to reply, but eventually, she nonchalantly responded, “Just over two days or so, why?”

Panic began to set in. I felt sweat start to form on my forehead and thoughts of worry started to swirl around in my head. Almost on instinct, I attempted to stand up out of my bed.

“Hold on, honey,” the woman started to say, raising her hands at me in a stopping fashion.

However, I ignored her pleas—my mind was now solely focused on the thought of Hunter. “Where is he?” I asked, wincing a bit from the pain.

“Where’s who?” she answered, still frantically trying to get me to lay back down on the bed.

“Hunter,” I answered, now standing up, “the man you called a monster.”

The woman stopped her flailing and her demeanor grew a bit more serious. “Oh, you mean the creature that you drove off? I think it fled down south. Good riddance. Thanks to you, I don’t think it’ll bother us again.”

“South,” I whispered to myself.

With that, my destination was set and a new purpose was reinvigorated within my body. I grabbed my jacket and cloak, which were draped over a chair in the corner of the room, and reached out towards the valrose. But I stopped myself. Although it took a moment of mental fortitude, I retracted my hand, leaving that flower to its own fate. And with that, I continue to walk towards the exit.

The moment I reached the door, I heard the woman speak up. “Where are you going? You’re still injured!”

“South,” I simply replied.

“Are you going to finish the job? Oh, you’re so heroic!” the woman said in praise.

“We’ll see about that,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

The outside world greeted me a bit harshly, but I quickly grew accustomed to the bright sun. And even if it continued to be harsh, I would’ve pushed through it because I only had one urgent thought on my mind: Hunter.

Everywhere I walked kept reminding me of him, both for better and for worse. What I saw in front of me was a still-mourning, scarred town—one that was stained with fading crimson. Even though it had been two days since Hunter’s rampage, it seemed that they still hadn’t been able to bury everyone. A few wrapped bodies still remain in town, as people carefully shuffled past them. They tried not to pay the corpses any mind, but the absence of words told all that needed to be said. It was a truly haunting sight.

I wondered why these bodies, out of all the corpses I had seen in my time, made me have some sort of visceral reaction. I felt guilt and sadness creep into my heart—they were unfamiliar feelings to me. I wanted to reflect and contemplate on those newfound changes within me, but I knew that I had a much more pressing issue at hand.

I continued to hustle my way through the still-ruined town of Varunia, twisting and turning down any alley that made my trek even a few seconds quicker. Eventually, I found myself walking down Memory Lane, the central and main road through town. Even though I was in a rush, something about that road almost forced me to stop. The image of my friend popped into my mind, his eyes filled with stars and wonder. And then that image turned cold, as blood dripped from his mouth and his eyes were filled with the pain of a thousand wrongs inflicted upon him.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Hunter…I thought to myself, holding back tears, I’m going to save you.

I made my way to the stables and saw a sight that stung a bit. While none of the creatures within them seemed to be hurt in any way, I saw a smear of blood just above the body of the woman who owned and ran the place. Her throat was jaggedly cut with cruel efficiency.

I simply sighed and looked for a jihl, which I found with almost no issues. I had always hated riding any sort of beast, because they would always try to buck me off, but I felt as though there was a more pressing matter than my own ego. I found the healthiest looking jihl, saddled them up, and attempted to hop on it. To my surprise, there was an unusual calmness to it. In fact, just as I began to make my way onto its back, it looked at me with the liveliest, green eyes I had ever seen from a creature.

Huh, I thought, I guess these creatures really are alive.

I reached my hand towards its head and tried to pet it, saying, “Thank you for your help.”

In response, it closed its eyes and purred. I couldn’t help but smile when I heard that, because as stupid as it sounds, I had never once thought about how alive anything was, nevertheless a rideable creature. I laughed when the realization hit me.

“I suppose you need a name, huh?” I said, still stroking its head. I looked at its scaly body, and as I did, I noticed how the blue coloration slowly transitioned to darker purple the closer it got towards the tail. Something about that resonated with me and a single name popped into my head. “How about the name Dusk?” I asked.

It purred even louder. I wasn’t sure if It even understood me, but I took that as a sign of affirmation anyway and proceeded to mount it. I took one long, drawn-out breath, and closed my eyes. I allowed myself to calm down and focus—a lot was about to unfold within the next few hours.

Finally, I opened my eyes and said, “Onwards, Dusk!”

I rode straight through the open plains of the dawning countryside. The grass would dance with the drafts that blew through the land, and the dance seemed happy for once. The sun, still cresting over the horizon, cast a gentle warmth across my body. The warm wind continued to blow against me with each stride of Dusk, causing my wild hair to blow back like grains of gentle wheat. Even though there was an immense amount of urgency to my journey, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace while I hastily traveled over the land. If it was any other day, I would’ve loved to stop and just take in the sensations.

Just as midday began to break, I arrived in front of the Dubitor Woods. I took a moment of pause, looked down at Dusk, and continued to ride into it. If it wasn’t for Dusk’s agile nature and slender body, there would be no way I could’ve ridden anything inside of the dense forest. She would dip, dodge, and squirm her way through any break in the trees, always maintaining the direction I pointed her in.

After about an hour into the woods, the thick canopy above started to block out most of the daylight, making portions of the trek indistinguishable from the night. Not only that, but direction started to lose all meaning and my senses started to get confused.

Panic ensued. Multiple times I turned around only to find that the path I had just come from was nowhere in sight. Certain trees looked familiar, but their arrangement was different from what I remembered. Everything started to make less and less sense. My panicked state must’ve been visible, seeing as Dusk stopped moving the moment I began to fall too far into it.

And then I heard it. It was subtle at first—so subtle that it couldn’t penetrate my worried state. Eventually, however, I heard the faintest tune echo in my head. It was calming. I slowed my racing brain down and began to simply listen to the tune. I realized that it was carried by the wind, but not wholly separate from it. Every so often, and I swear this to be as true as can be, I would hear voices in the wind. I would hear voices within the song. But they weren’t voices that spoke in a language, but rather a voice that spoke with intent alone. If I was only listening to the surface of the melody, it would've sounded like nonsense.

The tune echoed within the space in my head that only recently formed. I allowed the song to guide my actions and to calm my worried emotions. Before I knew it, I was moving in a certain direction—and Dusk was also moving in that direction, too. It seemed that she even heard the magical song of the forest.

Although the rush was slight, a recent memory resurfaced for a moment. I swear, if only for a second, I saw the smiling face of Hunter standing there. I could hear him telling me to be quiet and to just listen to the wind. I saw the flickering fire-like insects and a small tear fell down my cheek.

I’m coming for you, Hunter. I’ll save you.

Just as the sun began to start its daily setting, Dusk and I arrived at the base of the Carcernin Mountains. I looked up at the imposing sheer cliff face and took a moment to prepare myself. I hopped off of Dusk, grabbed my equipment, and looked her in the eye.

“You don’t have to wait for me to return,” I said, petting her on the head. “You’ve already done so much for me. Thank you.”

She then nuzzled her head up to me and rubbed it against me. I heard a loud purring noise coming out of her that made me smile. I continued to pet her for a minute or two before turning around and walking towards the cliff. Looking back, I saw that she had not moved, and instead sat down in a patient way. Still, I had a mission to accomplish. And so, I began the ascent.

For the next couple of hours, I continued to climb. With each new foothold I found, I felt the wind continue to blow harder. At times it was cold, much like the sensation of a foreshadowed death. However, when I thought of Hunter, it felt much warmer. Either way, it was getting stronger the higher I went.

Occasionally, I couldn’t help but stop and turn around to look at the great horizon beyond. I watched as the sun slowly hid away more and more. At the same time, the darkness of the night started to make itself known, and the shadow of the mountain cliffs became more present. So much so that it was nearly impossible to clearly navigate some paths upwards. However, no matter what sort of obstacles stood in front of me, my climb never slowed and my conviction never faltered.

Before I realized it, I was already at the top. For some reason, it didn’t feel as hard as before. Looking back now, it might’ve been because I instinctually followed the path that Hunter and I used before. Or it might’ve been because I had a more genuine purpose—one that wasn’t clouded by the dark ambitions of the night. No matter the reason, I managed to make it up to the cave entrance.

Just before I entered, I looked back towards the sun. As I did, I saw that it was completely gone, replaced with the wondrously purple and pink hues of the nighttime starscape. Each glimmer gave me a bit of hope, but the absence of the warm sunlight did give a reason for pause. Perhaps I was just being overly cautious, but for some reason, I did wish that it was day.

Regardless, I carefully walked into the mouth of the cave, determined and steadfast. As I trekked down the damp tunnels, I soon felt an oddly nervous sensation creep its way into the back of my head. At first, I thought it to be the familiar feeling of being watched, but after I sat with the feeling for a while, I realized that it was the exact opposite. The moment that thought crossed my mind, I quickly glanced all around me, and what I saw sent a shiver down my spine.

There was no one. Sure, there were tables, chairs, and other barely held-together furniture, but not a single soul that sat upon them. Worry filled my heart, quickly dropping into my stomach. Without hesitation, I swiftly made my way through all the different offshoot caverns, looking for signs of any living person. But I found nothing.

What shocked me even more, however, was the fact that I couldn’t even find a single drop of blood. It was as if every person suddenly disappeared from reality. I was starting to become more confused than worried, but the combination of those two emotions was more than terrifying to me. Still, I had to keep looking.

Maybe they’re all in the same place that Hunter is, I thought to myself. That would be the best scenario, I suppose.

I thought for a moment where Hunter would go. Instantly, an answer came to my head, but I pushed it away. There was something about the answer that seemed so realistic, yet horrifying. I didn’t want that to be the case, and so, I asked myself the question again. And again, the same answer was delivered to me.

“Fuck.”

Hesitantly, I started to make my way to the deepest parts of the cave. Every step of mine echoed the farther in I got. It was as if the cave was talking back to me, warning me with louder screams to not proceed. I ignored those warnings, pressing onwards to see the truth for myself. When I made it to the room before Father’s chained prison, a spine-chilling sight came into view.

Dozens of fanged were huddled together, sitting on the floor—all of them shaking. Some were shaking with fear in their eyes; some were shaking with tears on their cheeks; and some were shaking with rage in their fists. All of them, however, stopped the moment I entered the room. They looked up at me with a unified face that, even to this day, I could not accurately describe. It was an angelic look of desperation, hope, hopelessness, divided unity, and fear of something uncertain.

I replied to their look by saying, “What happened here? Where is Hunter?”

One of them partially stood up and said, “I don’t know where our boy is, but a monster with his face came into here just a little while ago.”

“What?” I replied with a slight sense of urgent worry.

The fanged person continued. “It was as if our greatest nightmare was reborn. It was as if he was freed again.”

“Who?”

With a haunted look, the fanged person replied, “Father.”

I stood, frozen and confused. The only thing I could do was walk towards the person. When I arrived in front of them, I simply asked, “Where?”

Without words, they motioned towards the next room—towards Father’s prison. I took a deep breath and nodded in acknowledgement. Just as I began to walk towards there, I felt them grab onto my cloak.

“Please, human,” they cried. “Please, friend of Hunter, save us from this. We don’t want to live under that nightmare again.”

“Of course,” I replied with a hardened face. “I plan on saving everyone.”

With that, I resolutely walked towards Father’s prison. As I did, I saw that the iron-barred door was already smashed to pieces, scattered across the floor. The chains that once held it in place were dangling, slack and barely in motion. Whatever came through there had done so recently and with absolute force. It was a kind of image that looked oddly familiar to me in retrospect. It was like looking into a mirror of my past.

I walked in slowly and carefully, stepping over the splintered wood. The room was dark and would’ve remained so if it wasn’t for the light of the torches just outside of the room. That flickering light allowed for partial visibility, which let me see the absolute primal scene in front of me. In the very back, there were two figures. One was wrapped in chains, sitting still. Behind it was an impossible amount of scarlet that stained the wall. I recognized this as the bound form of Father, who was now unmoving and unnervingly silent.

In front of Father stood his murderer. Their back was turned towards me, but it wasn’t hard to tell who it was. To make it even easier on me, in this figure's hand was a twisted blade, which had a valrose petal dangling from it.

“Hunter!” I called out.

Just as I said, Hunter slowly began to shift. As he turned around, I saw a familiar madness in his eyes. He looked at me with wild, electrically yellow eyes that looked as though they were slitted with an emotionless void. Partially obscuring those haunting eyes, was long, black and stringy hair. What was once naturally curly strands that were firm, tall, and full of life, were now matted strings of black that hung over his face. In fact, the more I stared at him, the more and more he began to look like the corpse behind him.

As Hunter continued to look at me with those vengeful eyes, I heard him say, “So, you did come.”