A cool wind hits the nape of my neck as I blink from the bright sun in my eyes. A weight presses down on my back and to my surprise there’s a backpack. In fact, not only is there a backpack, but I’m wearing tanned leather boots and a brown cloak to match. Wide rimmed glasses rest on my nose while a familiar staff adorned with a ruby is held in my right hand.

“What the…” I begin to say, but I trail off seeing as my surroundings have completely changed from the swamp. Below me is a solid cobblestone path instead of mud, and beyond that are hills of grass that go on to meet the blue sky. Mago, Kigo, Rouk, nor any of the Grouaks are to be seen.

The sound of horse clops and shaking wood becomes audible behind me. I quickly step to the side and turn to the source of the sound. My eyes are met with the sight of two regal white stallions pulling a white, silver-lined carriage of equal splendor. Both horses and their load look impeccably clean and appear to sparkle. Leading them is a silver-masked coachman in a red suit who calmly hold their reins. He seems to pay no notice to me as they approach.

As the carriage passes by, I lock eyes with the passenger. Her face looked well bred and cheeks had traces of baby fat. Their blonde hair was done up with complex braids tracing their way to a bun at the back of her head. Her nose sat symmetrically between two eyes inlaid with azure irises reminiscent of jewels. Most markedly of all—and the reason my heart momentarily stopped—was two long, fairy-like ears sporting golden chain earrings. The carriage passed by in a blur, and she looked younger than I remember, but I knew that woman.

“Escyra…,” a name escapes my mouth. “ESCYRA!!” I yell as I begin to give chase.

No sooner than I shout does the driver whip his reins and the horses break off into a sprint. I swallow dust and a fit of coughing momentarily staggers me. By the time I clear my throat the carriage is already several yards ahead.

“But you’re not far enough to get away,” I say muttering while I collect magic through my hand, into the staff, and straight to the ruby. My willpower—the mana—bounces around the inner geometry of the gem, amplifying its energy. I think of the wind, and how a gale behind me should propel me forwards while the air simultaneously parts as I run. My hair flutters past my eyes as the winds pick up. Just before I break off into a sprint, something hard slams past me. My magic drops as pain shoots up my shoulder.

Three dark horses ridden by black cloaked riders dash towards Escyra’s carriage. I see her head peek out of the window, and she reaches out to me screaming, “ABRAHAAAAAM!!!!”

Clouds roll in from the sky and rain comes down in a torrent. Soon the water is up to my ankles, and I’m left wading towards the shouting Escyra. The black riders don’t seem fazed by the flood and simply ride above the water.

My body feels sluggish, as if weighed down by mud. Soon arms appear from the water and hold me down. I struggle to push forwards and save Escyra, but the arms overpower me.

One of the cloaked figures produces a scimitar from its sheath and cocks his arm backwards to swing as he approaches the white carriage.

“ESCYRA,” the flood reaches my neck and I begin to sputter water as I shout, “GET INSIDE IT’S NOT SAFE!”

“ABRAHAAAAM!!!” she yells once more. Her eyes are filled with terror. Lightning flashes revealing disheveled hair that almost appears to be tinted blue.

The last thing I see before the water engulfs me is the scimitar arcing down Escyra’s neck in slow motion.

~~~

“ESCYRAAAA!!!”

Kicking, and shouting her name, I flail about. As my vision comes to focus, I see the muscular Rouk and the dark green Mago at my side holding my arms and legs down. Above me Kigo holds an empty bucket.

“Are you back yet?” the orange frog asks.

Whipping my head about, I see a starry night sky and the rest of the Grouak party staring at me.

Jambo snickers at me, “KE-HE-HE-HE, and I thought I was the jumpy one.”

“Wha-,” stammering, “what. What happened? Last thing I remember we were on the raft. Then we landed, and then I don’t remember anything after that.”

Mago is the first to answer, “Abra has lost a lot of blood.” He lifts my leg to reveal red puncture wounds along my calf arranged in a small circle about the size of a coin. Mago croaks apologetically, “It was a blood sucking leech. Forgive me. We do not have them back at the village, and they do not like Grouak blood. I thought they feasted on swamp beasts only. I did not know leeches liked humans too.”

Rouk helps me sit upright. The world spins and I feel lightheaded, so I lean on him for support.

“You would think I would notice a leech biting me, and especially if it got enough blood to make me pass out.”

“Maybe normal leeches, but not a Healing Biter” he explains while holding up what looks to be a dead slug with black and yellow streaks. “We call them that because their fangs, even when dead, make you feel no pain near the bite. Useful for healing wounds, but deadly for any beast they bite—or human,” he adds.

“Well that would explain my headache. Sorry for the noise fellas.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Think nothing of it, we have all seen the ghosts of the hunt,” says Gebo. “Though, do try to not cast magic in your sleep. You blew out the fire with wind.”

Around the camp it looked like two packs had been blown away, their contents scattered in the mud. As for the fire it was indeed nothing but embers.

Remembering the contents of my dream, I bow my head in apology, “Sorry…whoah.” The motion of jerking my head was enough to make me nauseous.

Rouk gently sets me down and gives me a toothless smile.

I smile back, “Yes and thank you for holding me down especially. I’m not sure what would have happened if you let me be in that nightmare.”

Mago slaps his feet in the mud, “In any case, all is well now. We may rest again. Tuuk, you oversee the next watch, then Daru.”

The two nod at his instructions.

As for myself, the feeling of restlessness keeps me alert so I pull out some paper and my quill. I write about the nightmare—about Escyra—and how much I miss her. The emotions flow through my mind into the page. I’m able to fill out three pages before sleep overcomes me as well.

~~~

The time I wake, the sun is rising and Jambo is crouched above me with a spear in hand. He puts a finger to his lips whispering, “Shhhh.” He then points to my left.

Still prone, I turn my head. Rows of yellow and brown scales slither past my vision. I can’t fully ascertain the diameter, but the wall of scales is easily six feet high. A forked tongue flickers into view followed by a golden eye about as tall as Jambo is crouching. I completely stiffen and halt all noise per Jambo’s instructions. In act, I even stop breathing just in case the ups and downs of my abdomen were tells for the massive creature.

Without turning my head, I can tell our island has been surrounded by a gargantuan snake. I’m not sure if it was toying with us or being wary, but its constriction of our space seemed very slow and deliberate.

The eye pauses on me and Jambo. Without hesitation, Jambo lunches forward with his spear. A clump of mud flies through the air leaving a shallow hole where was once stood. Jambo’s spear connects directly at the center of the long slit of the pupil and sinks deeper. Blood sprays on the albino frog, staining him red, but he holds true and keeps driving the spear.

The snake lets out a loud hissing SCREECH as it flails about from the pain. Jambo is practically a ragdoll clinging onto his spear for dear life. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The giant python slams its head against the mud attempting to shake Jambo off.

By now the rest have awoken and quickly assessed the situation. The rest of the snake’s body jerks about as well, and everyone does whatever they can to avoid it. I barely avoid getting decapitated by the tail as it arcs past my head.

“All Grouaks, with me!” shouts Mago as he rallies the hunters. “Let us sing the war cry of our people!”

In unison, the remaining seven croak repeatedly, “GRO-KAH-KAH-KAH! GRO-KAH-KAH-KAH!”

The hairs at the back of my neck stand on end as I feel adrenaline rush through my veins. Compared to how their croaks made me feel during dinner, this was about ten times more potent. I feel an unnatural amount of power rushing to my muscles, and everything begins to move slowly. A wild smile crosses my face as I myself join them, “GRO-KAH-KAH-KAH! So it was magic! What an amazing ability your people possess!”

Mana flows into my palms creating sparks that manifest into white flames. To offset the heat, I send constant swirls of cool air on my palms. Normally magic like this would be painful unless I had a magic focus, but right now I feel naturally calm and unbothered. I lob both flames with reckless abandon towards the snake. The first mote lands in the water in a large hiss of steam, but the second strikes true melting scales and exposing red flesh. Behind me the invigorated Grouak’s have driven spears into the snake’s sides and pinned it to the ground.

Now taking sufficient damage all across it’s body, the python opens its jaws and lets out an agonized HISSS. The giant whips its head to the sky finally shaking off Jambo, but not before Jambo launches his tongue at his spear, pulling it out the socket and back into his hands.

The snake’s head is reared high in pain while Jambo flies several yards upward. Despite that, Jambo’s face looks composed, and I can even spot a smile on his lips. He spreads his webbed feet and hands out to catch the wind and stop his spinning. As he reaches the apex of the throw, he goes into an upside-down squatting position looking as if he was standing on an invisible ceiling.

Pointing his spear and body straight down the snake’s maw, Jambo lets loose a cry of pure rage, “DIEEEEEEE.”

A loud BOOM, rings through all our ears and Jambo launches himself into the belly of the beast. Accelerated by Jambo’s jump and gravity, his spear causes the snake’s head to be eviscerated on contact. The sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing continue down the neck of the beast until Jambo emerges out the other side. Out of the python’s hundred foot length, he ran through about the first quarter.

“Hah…hah…” pants a red Jambo as he stands next to a gaping hole in the now inert snake. The spear in his hand was nothing more than a splintery nub.

“Woo-hoo!” I raise my arms to cheer, but a tight cramp knots itself into my forearm. It seems the Grouk’s war cry was not without demerits.

“Is everyone okay?” cries Mago.

“Ayes” and “Rrribits” echo across our encampment. Everyone is accounted for.

“Now,” he continues, “what the hell happened? How did a giant snake get that close to camp!”

It’s Tuuk that sheepishly raises his hand while bowing, “It was Tuuk, Mago. Tuuk fell asleep and did not wake Daru. Tuuk will accept being punished.”

Mago looks angry and rubs his temples, “This snake is too big to push to water. But neither can we leave the body here because we need this island to go back. Go clean

Jambo and help him collect the spoils of his kill. Then you alone set fire to the body with what dry wood we can find.”

“Rrribit,” replies Tuuk with a salute, and he gets to work.

“The rest of you,” Mago continues, “prepare the raft and collect dry wood to burn the snake. Make sure we are ready to leave in three hours.”

With our tasks assigned, everyone gets to work. Feeling partially responsible for sleeping through his shift, Daru joins Tuuk in cleaning off Jambo and collecting meat and anything else of value on the snake. Me and Kigo float around on a leaf pulling along driftwood and using magic to dry it off. Rouk splits apart anything that’s too large while the rest clean and prep the raft.

As soon as that’s done, we all watch Tuuk collect pieces from our wood pile and stack them underneath the snake which had been tightly coiled thanks to Rouk. Tuuk appears to be struggling with the weight of the wood but does not complain once. Apparently it was a great shame among the Grouaks to be forced to do manual labor alone. Since they are centered around a community, something like this was equivalent to a short-term prison sentence in human standards. I didn’t fully understand the custom, but everyone, including the usually jubilant Kigo, remained quiet and serious as they watched Tuuk toil.

It took him the better part of an hour to fully set logs and sticks underneath the entire snake. Considering its weight and size, it was still impressive by human standards. These frogs really are something else, I say in my head.

Exhausted, Tuuk grabs a flint and lights the bonfire. A large pillar of smoke and the faint smell of burning flesh act as our backdrop as we float southeast.