Chapter 5: Teeth Beneath the River
The river should have been calm.
Its banks were lined with reeds that whispered when the wind returned. Trees bowed low on either side, forming a thin canopy of green-gray light. Moss clung to the stone bridge they crossed—old, cracked, half-swallowed by the woods.
Kairis stepped carefully, his boots slick with damp rot. Beneath the bridge, water trickled between ancient pillars, shallow and slow.
But the stillness was wrong.
Arith paused halfway across. Her hand drifted to the hilt wrapped in white linen. "Do you feel that?"
He nodded. "It's too quiet."
"No insects. No birds. No fish."
Kairis glanced over the side.
The water looked dark—too dark for its depth.
"Something's here," Arith muttered. "Something waiting."
She began to move faster.
So did he.
They reached the far end of the bridge.
Then the river moved.
Not with wind. Not with current.
It coiled.
A shape rose beneath the surface—long, skeletal, the color of old parchment and bruised iron. Dozens of spines rippled along its back. A head breached the water—no eyes, just sockets and rows of broken teeth, shaped more like stone than bone.
One of the First Spawn. Forgotten. Sealed. Woken by the breaking of the Eye.
Arith drew her sword.
Kairis staggered backward.
The creature screamed—no sound, just vibration. The air cracked like glass around them. Moss flaked off the bridge. The trees bent inward.
Then it leapt.
Arith shoved Kairis behind her as the beast slammed down on the edge of the bridge, its jaws snapping shut where Kairis's throat had been a moment ago.
Steel hissed from linen.
Arith's blade flashed—an arc of silver-white through shadow. She sliced across the beast's cheek. It recoiled, fluid spilling from the wound like black mist.
"Run!" she shouted.
Kairis froze. "You can't fight that alone—"
"I don't need to win," she growled. "I just need to keep it from eating you."
The monster lunged again. Arith rolled beneath it, slashing along its side. More of that strange fluid hissed from its wounds—but they weren't deep enough.
It turned.
And bit her.
The teeth scraped her arm—just a graze, but blood flew. She stumbled, blade clattering to the stone.
"Arith—!"
The beast turned its gaze—if it could be called that—back to Kairis.
And something inside him snapped.
The Eye opened inside his chest—not fully, but wide enough to see.
The rune-brand on his ribs ignited. His arms glowed. The runes carved across his neck surged like coals in a forge.
The air around him stilled.
Time slowed.
He stepped forward.
And the world responded.
The beast lunged—and he raised his hand.
A line of ancient script ripped from his palm, curling through the air like a serpent of golden flame. It struck the creature mid-leap. Its body folded—crushed inward by force that wasn't force, burned by light that didn't cast shadow.
The bridge exploded, stone curling outward in a perfect ring as the beast collapsed into a heap of dissolving flesh and gnashing bones.
Kairis exhaled.
The light faded.
And silence returned.
He dropped to his knees beside Arith.
She groaned, clutching her bleeding arm.
"You're alive," he breathed.
"You broke the seal again."
"I had to."
She stared at him—not in awe, not in fear.
In dread.
"You didn't hesitate," she whispered.
He didn't answer.
Because he hadn't.
And worse—
It had felt good.
They didn't speak again that night.
They made camp beneath the shattered arch of the ruined bridge, Arith's wound wrapped tight in torn cloth, the fire low, the trees watching.
Kairis sat at the edge of the flame, staring into the coals.
The Eye stirred beneath his skin.
You did not kill to protect her.You killed to feel whole.
He closed his eyes.
And said nothing.