Fanaza's horse rode quietly behind Percival's. The search party pressed deeper into the forest, swallowed by silence. Only the rustling of dried leaves and the snapping of twigs beneath their horses' hooves broke the stillness.
Fear gripped Fanaza when they approached the same woods where she had been attacked before. The memories were fresh, crawling back into her mind. She looked around as a cold shiver ran down her spine, and she hugged herself against the chill.
"Was this the place you and Sage were attacked?" Percival's voice boomed, breaking the silence.
Fanaza didn't respond—her thoughts were far away, fixed on the bushes. She almost expected the creatures to rush out again.
Percival scoffed and swung down from his horse. His knights dismounted with him, and the thud of their boots dragged Fanaza back into reality. She hurriedly jumped down but landed badly, twisting her ankle. Stumbling, she lost her balance and accidentally shoved Percival, nearly falling on him.
"Were you born to be chaotic?" he snapped.
"I am so sorry." Fanaza bowed quickly. When he turned away, she bit back a smile. A part of her wished he had fallen flat on the ground. His proud, arrogant attitude always irritated her, and in her mind, she often mocked him for it.
Percival strode forward, gripping the sheath of his sword, his knights trailing close. Fanaza followed, fuming at how they ignored her entirely, their loyalty chained only to the crown prince. She hissed under her breath and darted forward until she walked beside him. He saw her but said nothing.
"My liege," Stefan muttered, spotting something on the forest floor. He crouched and plucked a bloodied leaf with a broken bracelet tangled in it. His brows furrowed.
"My liege," Stefan called out, holding it up to show Percival.
Percival turned, and recognition flickered in his eyes. "It's Sage's," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"The leaf is wet with blood. He must have been here," Stefan added grimly.
Fanaza's heart skipped. Her chest tightened. Was it Sage's blood? Fear gripped her like cold.
"I suggest we split up; then we can cover more ground," Stefan urged.
"No," Percival cut in sharply. "It's too dangerous. Those creatures could be anywhere. Divided, we'll fall." His hand clenched tighter on his sword.
"If it truly is Prince Sage's blood, he wouldn't have gone far with such a wound," Stefan muttered.
They moved forward, and the air grew heavier with each step. Suddenly, the trees thinned and they came upon a clearing. What they saw made their blood run cold.
Scattered across the clearing were the dead bodies of people; their clothes were decorated with dirt and leaves. Their eyes were frozen in a permanent stare, their mouths wide open in a silent scream.
"What could have done this?" One knight whispered, his voice cracking.
Another frowned grimly. "I've heard tales… of things that roam these woods. Things that defy explanation."
"It's the Wendigos," Fanaza breathed, clutching her chest. Her voice cracked as fear strangled her words. "They did this, and Sage is still out there!"
Her stomach churned violently. She gagged, coughed, then staggered back, overwhelmed by nausea. With a scream that was as loud and sharp as a banshee's wail, she turned and vomited in the bushes.
Percival scoffed. "She's just a hindrance."
"Seriously, my liege?" Stefan frowned, hurrying to her side. "My lady, are you alright?"
The only answer he got was the sound of her retching. Stefan returned to Percival with a grave look.
"My liege, I think your future wife is about to spill out her entire intestines. I am… concerned."
Percival sighed heavily, pinching his nose as he approached her. His footsteps were light, his face full of annoyance.
"What did you eat?" He fanned the air dramatically.
Fanaza finally steadied herself, wiping her mouth, pale and shaking.
"Wa…wa…" she tried to speak.
"I can't hear you." Percival rolled his eyes. "Speak louder; don't squeak like a mouse."
Fanaza clenched her fists, itching to punch him in the gut.
Stefan returned with a jar of water, handing it to her.
"Thank you," she whispered, gulping it down desperately.
"She needs rest," Stefan said firmly.
Percival shot Fanaza an irritated glance. "Didn't you promise not to be a hindrance?"
"I'm fine now," Fanaza said quickly, splashing water on her face.
"You need rest, my lady. You've only just recovered," Stefan urged, worry etched into his features.
"No, I'm fine." She forced a weak smile.
"But…," Stefan argued.
"You heard her," Percival cut him off and walked away.
Fanaza lingered for a moment under Stefan's gaze before following, her smile still forced.
The search for Sage continued.
As they searched the area, they came across strange symbols carved into the tree, and an eerie, unnatural silence hung in the air. It was like the very forest itself was watching them.
Suddenly, one of the knights pointed to a nearby tree. "Look!" he whispered.
Carved into the trunk was a single word: Wendigo.
Percival's jaw tightened. "Who taught those bastards how to write?" His voice filled with disgust.
"It seems we are in their territory," Stefan whispered as he saw the hideous and unhuman footprints on the muddy sand.
The search party followed it quietly. They descended into a dark and mysterious valley; a sense of foreboding settled over the gathered party, forming a canopy of twisted branches that blocked out most of the sunlight.
The eerie call of a raven echoed throughout the entire forest. Every man gripped his sword with tension thick in their throats.
Except Fanaza, who pulled out a single hairpin.
"Prince Sage!" Stefan called into the fog. His voice echoed, thin and hollow.
"Stefan, shut up," Percival hissed. "You'll draw them."
They walked deeper and passed through the fog that almost blocked and blinded their vision.
Suddenly, the wendigos emerged from the trees, dozens of them, their eyes glowing bright like a diamond.
The knights charged forward, their swords flashing in the dim light. But the wendigos were relentless; their bodies were unaffected by the swords.
Stefan shoved Fanaza aside. She stumbled behind a tree, clutching her hairpin uselessly. Her chest heaved as she watched, helpless; the only thing she was good at was dressmaking, and now that people were in danger, she couldn't help or even come up with a good idea.
She hid there peacefully and quietly, hoping it would be over soon.
Percival fought savagely, slashing through the creatures. One beast lunged at him from behind—he spun and split it in half. The knights formed a desperate phalanx, fighting back-to-back. But the Wendigos pressed harder.
The creatures weren't giving up; they wanted to win the battle. Who wants to be a loser? no one; that also applies to the supernatural, not just humans.
The party was outnumbered. The wendigos were wild and scary; they had no chance of defending themselves. All their hope began to die.
Then someone arrived.
His presence changed the whole atmosphere, and everyone could feel it.
Fanaza's eyes widened. Through the fog, she saw him: the cloaked man. Rwaine. Her heart leapt, relief surging through her veins.
Rwaine joined the fight, his cloak swinging behind him left and right. They all caught sight of him and were surprised.
The knights faltered in awe. All they could whisper was,
"Who is he?" they whispered. "Where did he come from?"
Rwaine charged forward, his fists flying with a speed that seemed almost supernatural. The battle raged on, the search party fighting for their lives against the wendigos, their dark strength and determination.
But with the cloaked figure's help, they slowly began to gain ground.
But one Wendigo slipped through. It lunged at Fanaza's hiding place. She dropped to the ground, whimpering. The beast shrieked, its jaws wide, wanting to devour the delicious meat in front of it.
She shut her eyes, preparing herself against the pain she would feel as the creature was about to tear her into pieces.
But all she felt was a wet substance on her face and lips; it was blood.
When she opened them, Rwaine stood above her, his golden eyes blazing, shining so bright, even the sword he was holding onto couldn't stop reflecting it. She stared into those beautiful eyes.
You came?" she whispered, trembling.
"Yes, I did," he answered firmly.
"Behind you!" she screamed. Another Wendigo ran towards him, and with one swift strike, Rwaine sliced it apart.
I'll be right back. Stay here," he ordered.
Fanaza nodded, unable to hide her smile. Her heart hammered—she couldn't stop staring at him as he vanished back into the battle.
As the last Wendigo fell, the survivors stood heaving for breath, sweat and blood dripping down their armour.
Rwaine approached Fanaza, but before he could reach her, he felt cold steel touch his neck. Percival stood there with his sword pressed firmly against Rwaine's skin.
Who are you?" Percival demanded.
Fanaza stepped forward quickly.
"He means no harm! He's a friend."
Then why is he dressed like a sorcerer?" Percival's grip on his sword tightened, suspicion burning in his eyes.
He wants to help," Fanaza pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Take off your cloak," Percival ordered with authority.
Rwaine chuckled softly beneath the shadow of his hood.
"He doesn't have to!" Fanaza shot back, her voice rising in defiance.
"I wasn't speaking to you," Percival barked, eyes flashing. "So do me a favour and shut that mouth of yours!"
Fanaza kept quiet like a child being scolded by her mother.
Rwaine tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "You really lack training when it comes to women," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Percival to hear.
Take it off!" Percival roared this time. At his signal, the knights drew their swords, surrounding Rwaine like hunters cornering a beast.
Fanaza threw her arms out, her voice sharp. "What are you doing? He saved your life—everyone's life! And you still question him?"
"I won't repeat myself," Percival snarled. His enraged eyes locked on Rwaine.
The air thickened, and the tension between the two men became suffocating but a scream shattered it.
A voice rang from a distance, desperate and agonizing. Percival's eyes widened. He lowered his blade instantly, forgetting the confrontation.
"That's Sage!"
Without hesitation, he and the knights sprinted toward the sound. Rwaine remained still, watching them vanish into the shadows.
There was a bridge ahead, and they all ran toward it. But before they could cross, an unseen force threw them backward. It was like they had hit a shield. They crashed to the ground, groaning in pain as their cries echoed through the forest.
The impact was too strong, and an unshakeable sense of dread lingered around them.
"What was that?" Percival winced, rising shakily to his feet.
A glowing boundary rippled across the bridge—an invisible wall of light, faintly alive, like water catching the sun. Each time someone touched it, it gave off a low, vibrating hum.
"It's a barrier, my liege. We can't cross," one knight said, his tone heavy with dread.
On the other side, Sage's scream pierced the air again, louder than before.
"That's him!" Fanaza cried, her voice cracking. "What do we do?"
"Can we break it?" another knight asked desperately.
Stefan knelt, spotting red dust scattered near the boundary. He scooped a pinch out of it, sniffed it, then frowned.
"Termite gas."
"What's that?" Fanaza asked quickly.
Stefan's eyes darkened. "This is pure magic. Legends say it was used by sorcerers in their war with humans. It helps to keep mortals away. I didn't think it still existed."
Are you saying we can't cross?" Percival's voice cracked with urgency.
"Probably," Stefan admitted. "No human has ever broken through the boundary. If this truly is termite gas, then… someone powerful is fuelling those creatures."
"Sage is in there!" Percival roared. He drew his sword and slashed at the boundary. The blade rebounded violently, flying from his grip and striking a tree. He punched the barrier with his bare hands, but it didn't budge. His furious scream echoed, mingling with Sage's cries from beyond.
"But if no human can enter," Fanaza whispered, "how did Sage get in? That's his voice!"
The knights exchanged uneasy glances.
"Unless…" Stefan muttered under his breath, "…he isn't human."
Percival's glare silenced him instantly. Stefan lowered his head. "Forgive me, my liege."
Fanaza turned to Rwaine, desperation in her eyes. "What do we do?"
"I don't know, Fanaza," he answered softly. "No human can pass through."
One by one, they tried. Swords, shields, even a massive tree log. Nothing worked. The barrier flung everything back, and exhaustion weighed them down.
That was a terrible idea," Rwaine said casually as the knights collapsed to the ground.
Then Stefan froze. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the shimmering boundary. Everyone had a reflection in it except Rwaine.
"Why don't you have a reflection?" Stefan's voice was sharp and too suspicious.
All eyes turned toward the cloaked man.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rwaine replied, his voice steady, though his golden eyes glimmered beneath his hood.
Percival raised his sword again, pointing it at him.
"Then prove it. Cross the boundary."
"You heard him; no human can cross over a boundary surrounded with termite gas. What do you take me for? A Wendigo?" Rwaine hissed, stepping closer.
"Cross it!" Percival barked.
"I do not answer to your commands," Rwaine shot back, his voice low, dangerous.
Their eyes locked with tension vibrating in the air.
Rwaine turned, searching for Fanaza. She nodded at him, her face pleading. That was all he needed.
He agreed immediately and felt peace. Seeing Fanaza's nod, he wanted to help.
He walked towards the boundary and placed his hand on it.
Surprisingly, his fingers passed through it.
Gasps erupted as his fingers slipped through the glowing wall as though it were water. Slowly, he stepped forward—and vanished to the other side.
The knights stared in disbelief.
"How… how did he do that?" Stefan's voice shook.
I'm not sure he's human." Stefan admitted, unease thick in his tone.
Fanaza pressed herself against the barrier, calling out. "Rwaine! Rwaine, can you hear me?"
"Fanaza," he said softly.
She exhaled in relief, tears threatening to spill.
"Find Sage, find Sage," she said.