The night had grown colder, and silence reigned like a deathly shroud over the outpost. Beneath the moon's pale eye, Tovan stood on one knee, breath unsteady, the Othurak man looming above him like a statue carved from the storm itself.
In a voice as frigid and commanding as winter steel, the man spoke:
"Right now—go. To the Veilwood."
Tovan blinked, stunned. The Veilwood. A cursed forest of monsters and unseen nightmares.
"Survive there," the man continued, "until dawn. If you return by the next sunset… then you will earn the right to be my disciple."
Tovan's breath hitched. Even Renil, who stood not far, looked frozen in disbelief.
"You… you want him to go now?" Renil stammered.
But Tovan's desperation overpowered hesitation. His answer was immediate, firm.
"I'll do it."
Renil stared at him. "Are you out of your mind—?"
But before either could say more, the Othurak warrior turned his back and began to walk away. His voice echoed one last time, low and distant:
"If he returns, I'll be waiting. Right here."
Then he was gone.
Tovan turned to Renil. "You don't have to come."
Renil gave him a dry glare. "And let you die alone in that hellhole? You're asking like you've got a 100% chance of making it out without me."
Tovan gave a faint smirk. "Didn't think you cared."
"I don't. I just want to be there when something tears your arm off and I get to say 'I told you so.'"
Despite the tension, they both chuckled.
"But are you sure?" Renil asked again, quieter this time. "You really think he meant it? Maybe he's just sending us there 'cause we pissed him off."
Tovan's gaze hardened. "Then we survive the night, and find out."
They made their way quietly through the sleeping outpost to the blacksmith's shed. The forge was cold, but the tools still gleamed faintly under the moonlight. Without waking Orrun, they slipped inside, taking one of his newly-forged blades and a quiver of sharp arrows.
As they left through the shadows, Orrun stirred from behind the curtains. Through half-closed eyes, he watched them vanish into the darkness.
"What in the hells are those brats up to…?" he muttered, but said nothing.
The two boys moved swiftly through back alleys, cloaked in dark robes, the chill of the air creeping into their bones. The lamps grew fewer as they neared the outskirts.
Renil broke the silence. "You looked insane earlier, you know. What was that? 'Kill the 13 Aeclipsar'? Have you lost your damn mind?"
Tovan chuckled dryly. "It was just to impress him. I had to say something. I want to be his disciple, that's all."
Renil rolled his eyes. "Well, you succeeded. That was wild."
The two laughed quietly, shaking off their nerves—until the trees of Veilwood rose before them like jagged teeth.
They stopped.
The forest pulsed with a dark presence. Whispers of monsters and demons drifted into their minds like ash.
Renil's voice was barely above a whisper. "We really going in?"
Tovan exhaled slowly, eyes forward. "Yeah. We are."
And together, they stepped into the mouth of the wild.
The boys stepped cautiously into the forest, their feet pressing gently against the mossy ground, trying not to stir the silence that blanketed Veilwood. The night here wasn't just dark—it devoured light. Even the crescent moon, hanging low and pale in the heavens, felt dimmed beneath the boughs of the cursed forest.
Thick mist curled along the floor like creeping fingers. The trees were unnaturally tall and bent inward as if whispering secrets to one another. Their bark was gray-black, rough like burned flesh, and the leaves above were too dense to let the stars speak. Every step was like sinking into the lungs of a sleeping beast.
Renil kept close to Tovan, whispering, "Let's just find a place to hide. That man didn't say to fight. Just survive."
Tovan gave a small nod, and they moved deeper into the shadows. They passed twisted roots and broken trunks as silence swallowed their path.
But then—clang!
Renil had dropped the sword.
It struck a brittle branch below, and the sound echoed through the forest like thunder through a tomb. Tovan gasped, instantly dropping low to the ground. Renil snatched the sword back and crouched, holding his breath.
Nothing. No footsteps. No growls. Not even the hum of insects.
The stillness returned—but it was different now.
Heavier.
Hostile.
Tovan slowly rose, heart pounding against his ribs. "Let's move," he mouthed. Renil nodded. They began creeping again, eyes darting between every flicker of shadow.
Then—
"Duck!" Tovan shouted.
A massive claw tore through the air, just inches from decapitating them both. They hit the ground as a tree behind them exploded into splinters, cleaved like paper. Leaves rained down. Wood cracked and groaned.
Renil looked up, trembling.
Then they saw it.
A towering creature emerged from the black, limbs long and wrong, its flesh writhing like it was stitched from multiple beasts. It had the face of a human—but not one alive. Its expression was stretched into a mockery of calm, eyes empty and glowing faint blue, lips sewn in a half-smile like it was stuck in a moment of amusement before death.
Its jaw opened—too wide. A rattling growl slipped out like bones grinding together.
Tovan felt his heart drop. "That's no beast," he whispered. "That's a demon…"
The boys had entered the Veilwood.
The Boys were Unlucky.