Darius and Favian pressed on, following the right-hand trail of sandal prints as they went deeper into the dark. The torch hissed in Favian's hand, spitting tiny embers that died before they touched the ground. Around them, the woods remained quiet.
'You know,' Favian muttered after a while, his eyes fixed on the tracks, 'the last time I went chasing after a missing boy in the dark… I ended up dying.'
Darius snorted softly. 'Well, if you die again tonight, at least you have experience.'
Favian actually laughed. It was short and subdued, but real. 'Kriger, that is an exceptionally morbid sense of humour.'
Darius shrugged playfully.
Favian shook his head, still smiling faintly as they stepped over a twisted root. 'Still… it doesn't sit right. A sixteen-year-old wandering off into the bush without reason? At this hour?' His voice dropped. 'It's unnatural.'
Darius considered that. 'Maybe the boy went for a night hunt,' he suggested. 'I used to do it back in Hjem. The animals never expected anyone to be out at that time. Caught them by surprise.'
'Night hunts,' Favian echoed with a hint of amusement. 'Well, Jeremy's family didn't strike me as the hunting sort. More likely farmers, or traders, like Nathan.'
Darius made a small sound in his throat, neither agreement nor disagreement. 'You never really know people, Favian. Not fully.' He brushed aside a low branch. 'Those who look like they've never held a bow might surprise you.'
Favian hummed thoughtfully. 'Fair enough.'
They continued forward, passing shapes across the forest floor as the mysterious dual trail beckoned them deeper into the dark.
Just then, an edgy crack split. A branch snapped somewhere ahead, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps brushing through the woods.
Favian and Darius froze.
Favian shot Darius a look and the two of them darted toward the source of the sound. Their boots stomped over the forest floor as they pushed past low boughs and clusters of leaning pines, the torchlight throwing wild shadows that staggered alongside them.
They burst through a thin curtain of trees… and stopped dead.
Ahead, perhaps twenty paces away, stood a young boy.
He faced away from them, standing perfectly still in a hollow of moon-dappled earth. His hair, unmistakably bright red; Meredith's very shade, glowed like a bloodstain beneath the faint wash of night light.
He didn't stir. Not at their arrival. Not at the cracking branches. Not even at the sound of their footsteps.
Darius felt relief rush up his chest. 'Oliver!' he called, already stepping forward. 'Oliver, there you are! We've been looking for you everywhere…'
Before he could take another step, Favian's hand shot out, gripping his shoulder and yanking him back.
'Wait,' Favian hissed. His eyes did not leave the boy. His voice was taut, a string on the verge of snapping. 'Something's wrong.'
Darius swallowed as the surge of relief evaporated. The boy still hadn't turned.
Favian released Darius and stepped forward slowly, lowering the torch but keeping it ready. His boots crunched softly on dry leaves as he inched closer.
'Oliver,' Favian called gently, as though speaking to a frightened animal. 'It's Favian. Your father and brother are looking for you. They're worried sick.'
No answer.
The boy didn't turn his head or acknowledge the voice at all. He stood as though rooted to the ground, back straight with his shoulders slack and arms limp at his sides.
Darius followed behind Favian, each step cautious and the hairs on his neck rising.
Favian tried again, louder. 'Oliver… can you hear me?'
Nothing. Not a word, or a movement.
Darius felt his pulse quicken. Favian lifted the torch a little higher.
'Something is very wrong,' he whispered.
And he took another step toward the unmoving boy.
Darius crept behind Favian, while the red-headed boy remained frozen in place. Favian stopped a few paces away, his eyes narrowing. Without looking back, he extended the torch over his shoulder. Darius took it carefully and the flames danced across his face.
Once they were close enough, Favian reached out with great caution. His gloved fingers brushed the boy's shoulder first.
'Oliver,' he tried one more time as he slowly turned the boy to face them.
Oliver's head lolled slightly with a limp, his face was pale and his eyes were open… yet empty.
Not the daze of someone waking from sleep, nor the confusion of someone lost; but a hollow stare, like his mind was caught somewhere between this world and another. His pupils barely tracked the light that spilled over his face.
Before either man could say a word, the boy's body sagged forward.
Favian lunged, catching him before he struck the ground. The boy's head drooped against his chest, limbs hanging loose and boneless. Favian adjusted, scooping him up by the legs and lifting him into his arms, bridal-style, with a grunt of effort.
"He's ice cold…" Favian muttered under his breath.
Darius' grip tightened around the torch. His pulse thudded violently in his ears.
"We need to get him back to the others," Favian said sharply, turning away from the hollow. "Now."
Darius snapped into motion, taking the lead so his voice could carry through the trees.
"Nathan!" he called, loud enough to send birds scattering from a nearby branch. "Jeremy! We found him!"
He shouted again and again into the night, but the forest gave no answer.
But suddenly, something moved within the forest behind them.
Both men stopped, tensed and alert. Favian adjusted Oliver's weight in his arms, while Darius slowly raised the torch, its flame flickering unevenly in the cold breeze.
The bush rustled and heavy footsteps approached. Far too heavy to belong to a man.
Darius swallowed and called out with a steady voice, though his nerves crawled beneath his skin.
"Nathan? Is that you?"
There was no reply.
The forest stayed eerily still , only for a heartbeat… before everything erupted.
A rapid, thunderous sprint burst from the darkness behind them, roots snapping and leaves scattering as whatever it was charged forward.
Darius barely had time to turn before something slammed into him with horrific force. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing to the ground, skidding against soil and damp leaves. Pain flared across his chest like fire, and he sucked at the air desperately, unable to breathe for a moment.
His hand went instinctively to his chest. When he pulled it away, his fingers were coated in blood — his own.
Darius forced his eyes to focus and turned toward Favian's last position, only to feel his stomach drop.
Favian was no longer standing.
He lay sprawled on the ground, one arm curled protectively around Oliver's limp body, the torch lying several feet away, its flame struggling against damp leaves.
A towering reptilian creature stepped into the torchlight. Its body was massive, easily twice the height of a man, covered in dark green scales that reflected the flame like polished stone. Its jaw hung open, lined with long, jagged teeth that glistened with saliva.
Each claw was curved and deadly, the length of a small knife. Its eyes, deep and predatory, locked onto Favian as if he were already meat between its teeth.
It was a Rageler.
The Rageler towered over them, drool dripping from its jagged teeth as it lowered itself like a predator ready to strike.
Then it lunged.
Favian reacted with pure instinct.
"[Reveal Weapon!]" he roared.
Light flared around him and his swords and bow materialised in a ring of shimmering aura.
Favian reached for the nearest blade, but the Rageler was faster. It swung one claw with terrifying strength, and the moment Favian's fingers brushed the sword's hilt, the strike connected.
The blow sent the blade spinning into the air and Favian skidding across the soil.
He screamed… not out of fear, but agony. Blood spilled down his wrist and hand, black against the moonlight. The creature advanced and its claws sank into Favian's leg, dragging him closer and raising its free arm high, ready to tear him apart.
Darius didn't think. He simply moved.
With forgotten pain and breath ragged in his throat, he surged to his feet and sprinted. The ground blurred beneath him, branches whipping past his arms as he closed the distance. The Rageler turned at the last second, but Darius was already airborne.
He leapt onto its back with all the force desperation could give.
The beast bellowed, staggering under his weight. Darius locked an arm around its neck, the other clawing for a grip, nails scraping over rough, cold scales.
The beast reared upright, thrashing violently to dislodge Darius, but he clung tighter, jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.
And then, driven by adrenaline and fury, Darius sank his teeth into the Rageler's shoulder.
The taste was instant.
Rot and Sulphur. It tasted like spoiled blood and dead things.
Darius gagged, ripping his head back and spitting the meat onto the forest floor, bile burning in his throat.
The Rageler snarled, a guttural sound that quaked through the ground itself. Darius spat more of rancid flesh again from his mouth, trying to hold on as the beast thrashed beneath him.
For a moment, it seemed Darius might overpower it.
But the Rageler reached back with terrifying strength. Its claws hooked beneath Darius' ribcage, and with one violent jerk, it tore itself free from him.
Darius felt the world spin. His body lifted in the air and weightless for a heartbeat, then flung aside like a discarded rag doll.
He hit the earth hard, rolling through leaves and mud, the impact ripping the breath from his lungs. Branches snapped beneath him as he slid to a painful halt several metres away. His vision swam and his ears rang.
Through the haze, he saw the beast turning back to Favian.
Favian, bloody and half-pinned to the ground, tried to rise, reaching for the fallen sword but his wounded hand shook violently, fingers slipping in dirt and leaves.
"Darius!" he called desperately.
The Rageler roared and hurled itself at Favian. Its claws tore soil from the ground as it lunged, massive body coiled like a predator striking for the kill.
Favian barely had a second to react. With his wounded hand shaking and vision flickering, he swept his good hand through the earth, scooping a fistful of gritty sand and dust.
Just as the beast came within reach… Favian threw the sand.
The grains burst across the creature's eyes like sparks. The Rageler staggered, bellowing as the grit dug between its scaled lids. It thrashed, momentarily blinded, carving its claw frenzily into the forest floor.
That single confusion was all Favian needed. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling with shaking breath and sprinted for the sword lying half-buried in the leaves.
He reached it and his fingers closed around the hilt again, but his injured hand trembled violently. Blood dripped from his palm, warm and slick, running across the steel.
Every pulse of pain threatened to loosen his grip. But he forced himself up anyway, turning to face the monster with nothing but stubborn resolve and a sword he could barely hold steady.
The Rageler roared, eyes clearing, fury returning tenfold. Then it charged again.
Favian swung with a wild, desperate slash. But the beast slipped aside.
He swung again, harder, with every muscle screaming. But the Rageler twisted past it like smoke.
Favian swung a third time, shaking but determined. But the monster ducked, almost mocking him, then came forward in the same breath, faster than Favian's eyes could follow.
Its claw flashed forward, followed by the sound of cloth tearing.
Pain exploded through Favian's chest.
He staggered backward and collapsed onto his back, breath stifling from his lungs. His sword fell beside him, and when he tried to rise, his body refused. Every inhale burned as blood spread beneath his cloth.
Above him, the Rageler towered, victorious.
It raised its arm, claws gleaming. One strike, and Favian would be nothing but torn flesh on the ground. He stared up at death as it loomed over him, unable to move, unable to even lift his weapon.
The claw descended… And a steel answered it.
A blade burst from behind the beast's arm, slicing through scaled flesh with terrifying precision.
There was a wet shnk—and suddenly, claws were flying through the air, severed cleanly at the joint.
The Rageler howled, a sound that rattled the leaves and shook earth. It whipped around… but it was too late.
The blade rose again, and came down in a perfect executioner's stroke across the beast's neck.The Rageler's head lifted into the air, eyes still wild, mouth frozen mid-snarl.
For a moment, its body remained standing and twitching, then finally it collapsed with a heavy thud.
Green blood erupted in a grotesque spray, spattering across root and soil and Favian's armour.
The severed head rolled into the ferns, jaw still shuddering with fading life.
Favian forced himself to lift his head despite his swimming vision. For a moment all he saw was the shifting moonlight. Then, just beyond that, he saw someone standing. His heart stopped.
It was Darius.
But not Darius as he knew him.
The man who stood before him looked carved out of shadow. His eyes, usually stern and alive—were now pure black.
Ink-dark from corner to corner, reflecting no light, no soul, or thought. And in his hand was the sword Favian had hoped never to see drawn again:
The Spirit of Death.
Its edge drank the light around it, and darkness rippled along the blade, like living shadow writhing beneath the metal.
Favian stared, mouth open, unable to speak at first.
Darius wasn't moving. He stood still with his eyes fixed forward but seeing nothing. The sword hummed a hungry sound— like it wished to kill again.
"Kriger…" Favian whispered, but received no answer.
Favian pushed himself up a little despite the pain burning in his chest and hand. Louder now, and desperate he yelled:
"Kriger!"
Darius flinched, just slightly. His grip shifted and his breath hitched.
Favian's voice cracked as he called again, with all the strength left in his lungs:
"DARIUS KRIGER!"
The blackness in Darius' eyes flickered. Once, twice…then bled away like ink thinning in water. His pupils returned and his breathing rushed back.
His posture loosened, and he blinked rapidly, as if waking from a nightmare he couldn't remember entering.
He looked down at the Rageler's headless corpse and at the blood pooling in the leaves.Then he turned to his own hand clutching the cursed blade… and his face changed.
Understanding what may have happened, he inhaled sharply—and shouted:
"[Dismiss weapon!]"
The sword vanished in an instant, dissolving into black particles that drifted away like smoke.
Darius staggered forward, dropping to his knees beside Favian. He grabbed Favian under the arm, panic flashing in his now-normal eyes.
"Favian, look at me. Are you hurt? Talk to me."
Favian groaned, holding his bleeding chest. "I will live," he strained out. "If I get treatment soon enough."
Darius opened his mouth to respond…
But another voice answered first, smooth, amused, and dangerously close.
"Oh… you will."
Both men froze. Slowly, together, they turned their heads to the right.
There, at the edge of the tree line stood Karev.
His black cloak hung like a wing behind him. In his hands a bow was drawn and an arrow notched, the iron head gleaming like a promise.
His expression was calm. The kind of calm only held by a man who already knows he has won.
Favian's pulse stumbled and Darius' jaw tightened. Their cover was gone. Their mission, not hidden anymore.
Karev had seen everything.
And he was aiming right at them.