The sun blisters none. The wind howls to no one.

But let us pretend that a storm has begun.

Stars were shrouded in ominous clouds that consumed the moonlight. Gusts of wind howled through the swaying trees as the occasional flash of light revealed the silhouette of the forest. In the distance was a deep growl, crackling with hateful tempestuous grudge. It was as if the gods themselves were preparing for battle…

On the surface, it was just like any other storm. Be it a natural phenomenon, the powers of a god, or the work of a wizard, it was no more than an empty omen.

But let’s imagine ourselves going deep into the darkest depths of the forest.

Where the screams of the heavens nor the roars of the gods reach no one. Where instead of harsh winds and sharp raindrops, we are met with a thick, boundless, haze.

Where a creature who only manifests itself under the fog resides. Yes, a godless creature.

“A creature known as The Kieran!”

Eliet mimicked the sounds of thunder as I announced the creature’s names.

The Greysin kids listened attentively, one of them almost succumbing to tears.

“The Kieran cares not about gods or weather,” I continued, shrouding half of my face with my cloak as I crept closer to the audience. “For the only weather it sees is the fog it carries, consuming the souls of whoever lost their way within its grasp.”

“What does The Kieran look like?” a brave girl raised his hand.

I jumped away from the stage and placed myself in the middle of the audience. The kids fled into a circle around me, some shaking in fear.

“The Kieran is no ordinary beast. First, it dons a skull of a goat in place of a head. Its sharp horns are decorated with charms made of elven skin and hair.”

I stomped my feet and bared my fangs and claws, mimicking a tall and ferocious monster. “Beneath its sharp fur-like coat is a body made from the blackened skeletons of its victims. Its arms hang downwards, scraping the ground with its long sharp claws—“

The girl raised his hand again, “Why does it have a goat skull? Where is its brain?”

I leaned closer, stopping only inches away from his face, “Black magic, my boy. A dark art we call… Soulmancy! An evil magic that feeds on the souls of the dead!”

The little boy beside her cowered with his hands over his ears and his eyes closed shut.

I crawled in front of the teary boy and whispered, “And do you know what happens when he catches you in the fog?”

I leaned closer…

“He… EATS YOU!!!”

He erupted into tears. His wailing set off a chain reaction among the other kids. Their sobs sent tremors through the flimsy walls.

The teary-eyed boy's cries had spread like wildfire, each wail adding to the chorus of distress. By ‘chorus,’ I meant more of a dissonant mix of screeches that signaled my impending doom. Eliet shot me a disapproving look as he poked his head from backstage. I could practically feel the grandma of the Greysin family coming to check on her youngsters. Youngsters of which, insisted I tell them a story, by the way! So it’s not entirely my fault! Right?

Perhaps I had gone a bit too far.

I scrambled to my feet, waving my hands frantically in an attempt to restore order.

"Alright, alright, children, calm down! I-I heard The Kieran doesn’t attack children who listen to their parents!”

The girl raised his hand again, “That doesn’t make any logical sense!”

“We don’t have any parents!” cried the boy.

"That's... that's quite unfortunate," I stammered.

Eliet sneaked out of the makeshift stage at the corner of my eye, softening his footsteps and huddling around the wooden furniture and chairs we set aside. I gave him a pleading look, begging for assistance. He gave back a glance that said he wanted nothing to do with this, like a father running away from child support.

I’ve been betrayed many a time, but Eliet’s unwillingness to help comes most surprising. The valiant knight I had expected to be the first to come running has fled the scene.

Cheeky fucking bastard.

Dust fell from the ceiling, signaling the series of slow footsteps as the grandma woke up and left her bedroom on the second floor.

I scrambled to the door, hopping over the crying Greysins as they called for nanny.

I billowed my cloak as I reached the door, hoping to distract the elves with the flow of my garments.

“And that concludes our session for the day, dear elves. Don’t forget to clean your teeth and wash yourselves! May you learn something from my tale, and never disobey ‘til you’re old enough to drink ale!” I jumped out of the tree with a graceful rhyme just as the Granny peeped from upstairs.

Dim sunlight and a humid breeze brushed against my face as I flew down the wooden haven. Quite a mesmerizing sight, far away from the dark night I had created in the story.

I landed next to the fleeing elf on a lower platform. He glanced at me and sighed as if I was the one that done him wrong.

"Running from a horde of elves is truly an art form," I muttered to Eliet, who casted a quick glance back to make sure no pursuit had extended beyond the treehouse.

“Let’s run, I don’t wanna hold buckets again.”

The distant echoes of crying Greysins fueled our retreat. Truth be told, I had anticipated at least one of them to cry. What I failed to account for is the emotional contagion the siblings shared.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Welp, that’s a problem for future Valen!

He sprung up the branches, clearly intending to leave me in the dust. I pursued him along the treetops. Sharp leaves and branches brushed and pulled my cloak forcing me to tuck it against the wind. Even when I was already struggling, Eliet had the audacity to slingshot the branches in my direction. Cheeky bastard indeed.

We landed on a plank platform that led to the town’s center. The sharp blister-inducing walkways had become familiar to me and my sleek leather shoes which were unfortunately now filthy and battered. It was the same walkway we took every day to go to the marketplace. Our usual morning stroll consisted of him showing me around town while I pester him with questions that had obvious answers. Looks like he picked up on that and kept his distance just enough to escape my talking range.

Eliet strolled through the swaying bridges with an air of nonchalance, as if he hadn't just abandoned his comrade to face the wrath of Granny Greysin alone. I jogged beside him, shooting occasional glares.

“That’s the third trouble you got yourself into this week. I don’t understand how those children still tolerate you,” he broke the silence.

“I’m quite surprised myself how I could still tolerate them! Do you know how hard it is to study when 20 children are running about!?”

“And yet you still tell them stories they are not meant to hear. You’re a strong one, aren’t you?”

“And you’re a coward! How dare you leave me up that tree!”

“Unfortunately, I’m not reckless enough to face Granny Greysin. That’s your problem now,” he shrugged.

He bolted away from me, leaving what he knew as my talking range.

I considered yelling to beckon him but we’ve already reached a crowded area, somewhere he knows I’m not comfortable shouting in.

Has he been getting sassier because of my influence?

He took long strides. I took longer. His strides turned into jogging. I turned mine into running until I finally caught up beside him.

It was a strange path to follow just to get to the marketplace. Apparently, it was meant to confuse wild beasts if they ever made it near the settlements. Though it was quite normal for a city to have the market at the center, their settlements on the perimeter had little to no protection apart from the height advantage.

The rhythmic melody of elven instruments and the lively chatter of the residents filled the air. Chatters like when to pay their lent money or how many fruits to plant, as if the threat of The Kieran was forgotten. As if their situation wasn’t so dire to begin with.

They were more like stalls than stores, each with binding vines and edged leaves that could cut through skin which they didn’t seem to mind. I gave a scrutinizing glance as we walked passed. They responded with forced smiles with a hint of resignation… resignation that felt more somber than painful.

I had no right to judge whether or not it was right to accept their fate.

“I’m still baffled at how this community functions,” I whispered.

“It was the elder’s idea. Years ago, rangers foraged the forest in fear of running out of resources. Turns out this place was abundant in rare materials, and now we have a surplus. Our people continued to grow our means of production and trade in hopes of coming out prosperous once we found a way out of the forest.”

“Yet your military still uses sticks and stones.”

“We were traders and farmers, not craftsmen or warriors. And we lived in the plains, not the woods.”

“With the way she ran this place, I doubt your elder had any plans to leave the forest at all.”

“What’s wrong with the way we do things!?”

We stopped our walk and stared at each other.

“Nothing…,” I spoke under my breath. “It just seems like there wasn’t any effort in finding The Kieran.”

He glared at me. I was ready for him to grab me by the collar and warn me with a knife against my throat but he was sensible enough not to do it in public. His frown left a sharp wrinkle on his forehead. Both of us knew I had a point, but none had the energy to follow it through.

“We’re going to kill The Kieran,” he snarled.

I could sense the plead beneath the anger in his eyes. He certainly hasn’t given up. One could only hope the same is true for the rest of them.

“I can’t help people who don’t want it, Eliet.”

“We do want help! That’s why you’re here, aren’t you?”

“Right…,” I muttered. “That’s why I’m here.”

A wave of silence passed by… I’ve voiced my suspicions enough. What I wanted to know was where he stood, something I hoped Eliet himself figured out.

In my head, we were squaring up at each other, getting ready to fight and rolling up our sleeves. Brother Valor had a specific footwork technique that allowed him to never get hit in hand-to-hand combat. The move was so fast that he would leave hundreds of afterimages every second.

I don’t intend to hold back. Men don’t become true friends unless they throw fists, be it jokingly or aggressively.

I was about to win with “Phantom Dodge,” but fortunately for Eliet, our match ended before it even started.

A third presence entered our range, an armed civilian seeking inquiry.

“Excuse me,” an archer clad in a leaf-green tunic interrupted our staring contest.

We broke our frowns and shifted to a friendly demeanor, uncrossing our arms and politely bowing as he approached.

The short and bearded elf adjusted his bow as he struggled to carry his large knapsack and bedroll.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Did I hear correctly that you're planning to confront The Kieran?"

Eliet glanced at me, his eyes narrowing as if to say, "Talk to him." I responded with a sly smirk. It seemed my name had spread faster than I anticipated.

I turned to the elf, his stout stature shrinking as I made eye contact and said, “Actually, I was instructed by the elder to wait until we receive news of the beast. Seems there hasn’t been any in a few days.”

“Oh, uhh… I’m from the ranger’s guild. You may know us as the uhh… people you first encountered. You can call me Siron,” he bowed. “Y-You’re the Soulmancer, correct?”

“That’s what people call me, I suppose. Though I prefer the name ‘Valen.’”

Siron nodded nervously, still fidgeting his bow. "I-It's an honor to meet you, Valen… and… Eliet.”

“Grace in that honor, elf. Now what do you want?” I smugly crossed my arms.

Eliet elbowed my side with a glare that said, “Read the room.” He nodded to Siron, prompting him to continue.

The man looked both sides before leaning in and covering the side of his mouth with a hand. “We weren’t meant to say this to anyone, but we’ve found traces of The Kieran in the south of the forest,” he whispered.

Eliet and I almost jumped away from surprise. Siron gestured to both of us to calm down as if not to expose anything.

“The Kieran!? Where!?” Eliet whispered.

Siron shushed us and gestured to follow him to a secluded alley. We tailed him into a back of a tree, where no person would venture unless they wanted to listen in. We crouched in position. Not exactly what a law-abiding citizen would do, but if it’s for the good of the village, there’s every reason to be suspicious about why we’re talking in secret.

It was impossible not to be nervous, especially since I just met the guy. Eliet seemed to trust him so I was more or less compelled to, if not for the shady behavior right off the bat.

"Listen carefully," Siron whispered, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "Our scouts have reported sightings of a sudden fog appearing in the south—“

“Wait, wait, wait!” I interrupted, “Shouldn’t we be telling the elder!?”

“We did, but the elder instructed us rangers to standby until we confirmed what it is. I understand it’s for safety, but since we have a soulmancer here, we could potentially scout deeper into the fog and get out unharmed! But if she hears we’re planning to do something dangerous, she’ll stop us immediately… We can’t let her know.””

Eliet and I exchanged glances, both pondering the potential risks and rewards of venturing into the fog… and more importantly, the reason why Elandria stayed silent.

"Siron, are you suggesting that I, the great Valen Esparia, should lead the charge into this mysterious who-knows-what?" I asked, feigning shock.

Siron shifted nervously, "Well… That’s your job, isn’t it? You can do Soulmancy. Unlike us, you might be able to explore the fog safely and face The Kieran himself.”

He was… completely serious, a state of mind I have mixed emotions with. If I was the one deciding, I would use Elandria’s carefulness as an excuse to approach this steadily. On the other hand, Eliet’s presence leaked recklessness that kept rubbing off me.

“We’re doing it!” Eliet exclaimed. “Even without the elder’s permission!”

Siron nodded in thanks. My option to object faded in that single moment.

I tilted my head, pretending to contemplate the gravity of the situation. "Explore the fog, face The Kieran, and potentially become its next fashion accessory? Count me in! What could possibly go wrong?"

Eliet glared with disapproval. "This is no time for your jokes, Valen. We’re going!”

The two shook firm hands before I even input my reluctance. In the first place, I don’t think knowing “soulmancy” is even related to navigating in a magical fog. It was them who assumed that. Considering that they know next to nothing about energy and magic, I could see why they would make the connection.

But alas…

Alas, alas, alas…

I think I’m fucked.