In the middle of nowhere, a monster was strung up in a field of wheat like a scarecrow. Its snoring had disturbed the local ecosystem; birds of prey were scared witless by the horrible sound.
Hrrr… hrrr… hrrr…
Up close, it wasn't a monster at all but a young boy—Ares—sleeping or unconscious. His face looked purple, his eyes swollen, and a large bump bulged on the back of his head.
Hrrr… hrrr… hrrr…
In the nearby village at the edge of the wheat, people stared at the field with dread. One of the elders sat huddled in the town hall, solemn in his chair. He looked up, eyes grim.
"People! A calamity is upon us. A punishment from the gods—"
He was interrupted by the thunderous noise.
Hrrr… hrrr… hrrr…
People whimpered, eyes darting along the wooden rafters and thatch that served as a roof. If the monster decided to attack, they wouldn't hold.
"Elder, what should we do?" they asked, hopeful and afraid.
"This is not something human," the elder declared. "It is from the unknown. And as you know, only iron bites the unknown. Our shaman heard a voice from the gods. They told us we need a sacrifice to avert the calamity. So—who among you is willing to…"
Back in the wheat field, a portal rippled open in thin air.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" a hesitant teenage voice asked.
Two figures stepped out: a young man with heroic features and sharply pointed ears, and a woman with alabaster skin, piercing eyes, and the same pointed ears.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're even a man," Aerin said with a teasing edge. Her movements didn't match her serene visage as she took in the golden waves of wheat and the rising sun.
Hrrr… hrrr… hrrr…
"What in damnation is this?" Eredin exclaimed at the sight hanging from the wooden pole. "In all my travels I've never seen such an ugly beast. What is it called?"
Aerin, irritated at being pulled from her reverie, turned—and froze. "My word. I've never seen such a thing anywhere in the universe." She edged closer. "It's wearing clothes, so it must be intelligent… but how can it be so ugly? Can we take it with us? Uncle Zevran would love to study it."
"As enticing as that sounds, we have to get going." Eredin's fingers danced; green power coalesced between them in tiny living weaves, forming a shining circle. Slowly, Eredin and Aerin's features morphed into more human shapes. Their clothes shifted too: Eredin now had blond hair, a weathered maroon T-shirt, and black jeans; Aerin wore a baggy white shirt and skinny blue jeans. Her natural beauty still shone through the disguise.
"What are we going to do about this?" Eredin opened his palm. A golden coin, edged with three suns and seven moons, winked into existence. "You know they can track this, right?"
"Why did you bring that?" Aerin looked horrified, snatched the coin, then glanced at the sleeping "beast." She tossed the coin toward the monster; it merged into his body. Her fingers moved again, and a purple weave of three knots formed over her hands, glowing ethereally before dissolving into the "beast" as well.
Eredin stared. "Are you crazy?" He started to weave a counter-spell—but Aerin appeared right in front of him.
"I know it's reckless," she said, smiling enigmatically, "but I put a tracking spell on it. We'll know where it is at all times. When we've had our little fun, we'll take it back and no one will be the wiser. Don't make me beg—I'm not above it." She arched a brow.
Eredin was shocked at the shamelessness of the Saint of the Third Moon—and a little pleased to be the one who got to peek behind her ice wall. He sighed. "What could go wrong?"
"My hero." Aerin patted his cheek, and the two of them vanished into the portal.
The wind rustled through the wheat, hiding the secrets of two lovers who disappeared as quickly as they had arrived.
Hrrr… hrrr… hrr— "Wha—?"
Ares jerked awake. His arms were sore, his thoughts muddled; he couldn't feel his face.
"What is happening? Where am I?" He blinked at the odd angle of the horizon. "Where is the ground?"
He curled his toes. They found only air.
"Am I dead? Did they finally do it? Why!" He thrashed in anguish and cracked the back of his head against the wood. "Argh! What the— Why does it hurt so much? The afterlife is supposed to be pain-free."
He tried to move and couldn't. "Weird." He looked around and finally understood what his parents had done.
"Psychopaths!"
He struggled with everything he had.
Crack.
The heavy wooden pole he'd been tied to split under the strain and gave way.
"Shit!" The whole structure collapsed, and he fell face-first into the wheat.
"No one can stop me. No one!" he shouted, voice muffled by straw. Then he froze. "Where are they?" He glanced around, grim-eyed. "I have to be careful."
He said nothing more as he unfastened the ropes, then disappeared into the golden sea, prowling toward his goal.
Next day — News Report
The village elder and the shaman sat on a platform, being interviewed by a journalist.
"Monsters roam this world," the shaman said grimly, the air around him tight with anticipation. The villagers nodded. "Monsters from beyond—and only the Great Spirit can protect us." He lifted his arms as if channeling a voice. "This one was no small monster."
The elder nodded and played a recording: a black silhouette and a terrible noise.
"The Spirit needed a sacrifice," the shaman cried, "but I said no. I pleaded for mercy for my people—and He listened. He listened and delivered!"
"He delivered! He delivered!" the elder and villagers chanted, breaking into a frantic dance.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the journalist announced to the camera, "as you can see, there has been definite proof of a supernatural event." The footage showed villagers dancing in a frenzy, a blurry three-meter silhouette could be seen in a distance field., and the terrible sound:
Hrrr… hrrr… hrrr…