Chapter 14: The Hunt Begins
A week passed beneath the broken roof of the old temple, measured in sparks, bruises, and the slow rhythm of progress.
Each night the howls came closer. At first, they were distant echoes rolling through the Thornveil, swallowed by mist and stone. Then nearer, sharper, until they pressed against the very edges of the ruin like wolves scenting a wounded herd. Sleep became a shallow, broken thing, every ear straining for the next cry in the dark.
By the seventh morning, Hale called it.
"We hunt today," he said flatly, tightening the strap of his battered cuirass. "Better to meet the pack on our feet than wait for them to test our walls."
Tamsin's foul smelling poultices and relentless care had left Elias scarred but whole. His burns had knit into stiff new lines, his ribs no longer screamed with every breath, and his shoulder carried weight without tearing. He was still battered, still sore, but whole. For the first time since Ashvale, he felt like a soldier again, not a corpse staggering after the fight.
The week had changed them all.
Noll could hold a ward for twenty breaths without it collapsing. The boy had learned to spark light without burning his own eyebrows off, and he carried himself straighter for it. Elvi said he still moved like a farmer in borrowed boots, but even she grudgingly admitted he was learning.
Lysera had pressed Elias until he could push resonance into his limbs without cutting it apart, until he could set his spear humming without shredding the weave to ribbons. It was clumsy, rough, and his hands shook every time, but it held.
Even Rook had grown. The cub was heavier now, his silver eyes sharper, his growls deeper. At night, his fur sometimes streaked with faint light whenever the howls drew too close.
Still, the Thornveil pressed in. The forest didn't care about their progress.
Elias groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Damn, I was hoping for another week of smashing my face into chalk circles."
Thorek snorted and elbowed him in the ribs. "Quit whining, shortstack. You humans get all that height and still manage to walk like drunks. At least when a dwarf's short, we're built for it."
Elias shot him a glare. "I'm five-five, damn it. That's regulation height where I come from."
Elvi didn't even glance up from stringing her bow. "For children, maybe."
Noll choked on a laugh, Hale's jaw twitched despite himself, and even Lysera's mouth softened in the faintest crack of a smirk.
Elias threw up a hand. "Shit, I'm surrounded by comedians."
"Damn right," Thorek said cheerfully, grinning under his soot-stained beard. "And I'm still taller where it counts, the forge."
That broke Elvi's composure; her chuckle rippled through the group as they checked weapons, shouldered packs, and left the ruin for the first time in days.
The Thornveil swallowed them whole.
Mist curled low, weaving through roots that bulged like veins from the earth. Vines choked toppled columns and broken statues, faces long since scoured to blank stone. The air smelled of damp rot and iron, thick with a faint resonance that crawled along the skin.
Lysera led, hood drawn, her hand brushing unseen threads as if testing a path only she could see. Hale followed, grim and steady, Elvi gliding silent at his flank. Elias took the center, Rook pressed close to his leg, Noll shadowing him step for step. Thorek brought up the rear, hammer resting easy across one broad shoulder.
Elias felt the hum sharper with every step. The Loom here didn't just sing, it pressed, a low vibration gnawing under his ribs and teeth. He breathed slow, steady, counting in his head to keep the rhythm from twisting into panic.
"Feels like walking across a minefield," he muttered.
Lysera's pale eyes flicked back at him. "Then step carefully."
They moved in silence until Elvi raised her hand. She crouched near a tree, its bark gouged deep in parallel grooves. Sap bled black and sticky, humming faint like a plucked string.
At the roots lay a carcass, deer like, half consumed. Its flank twitched with leftover resonance, threads sparking faintly as though trying to knit muscle that was long gone. The stink of it curled sour in the nose.
Noll gagged. "Shit…"
"Threadbeast kill," Lysera said quietly. Her tone stayed even, but her shoulders tightened. "Hours old. A small pack. Two, maybe three."
Hale crouched, fingers brushing the ash clinging to the carcass, then straightened with his jaw set. "Form perimeter. We draw them here. Better to meet them on ground we choose than theirs."
Elias tightened his grip on his spear. The reforged etchings Thorek had carved thrummed faint against his palm. His scars pulled but didn't tear, his lungs filled without screaming, his stance held. For the first time since Ashvale, he wasn't just bracing to survive, he was ready to fight.
Lysera's gaze found him. "No cutting this time. Today, you fight with what you've learned."
He grimaced. "Still getting used to not breaking things."
"Then break them the right way," she said, and turned back to the trees.
The forest stilled.
Mist thickened, breath damp and heavy. No bird called. No branch stirred. Only the Loom's hum, pressing louder, warning sharper.
Rook stiffened, silver eyes glowing faint in the fog. His fur bristled, a growl rolling deep in his chest.
Elias felt it too, the sharp spike of resonance, jagged and near. He drew a slow breath, reached. Threads shimmered faint around his arm, sliding into the spear. The reforged veins brightened, dull blue glow crawling steady along the weapon's length. His stance lightened, strength flowing into muscle.
Not a cut. Not collapse. A proper weave.
The spear thrummed alive in his hands, steady as a heartbeat.
"Well. Damn," he muttered. "That's new."
Noll's head whipped toward him. "You, you actually wove it."
Elias gave him a flat look. "Kid, if you start clapping, I swear I'll hit you with it."
Thorek barked a laugh. "By the Forge, maybe the runt's learning after all."
"Still taller than you, short stack," Elias shot back.
The laughter cracked the tension for a heartbeat, then the forest answered.
A low, gurgling growl rolled from the mist. Another joined it, higher, chittering wrong. Shapes slid between the trees, too low, too fast.
"They're here," Hale said, voice iron. "Shields up. Line forward."
Elias lowered his glowing spear, scars tight, pulse steady.
"Alright," he muttered, mouth hard. "Let's see what the bastards look like up close."
The mist broke first.
A shape lunged from it, fast and low, its body rippling wrong. The beast had the look of a wolf, but its spine bent too far, jutting knobs like half-buried blades. Threads pulsed faint under its hide, glowing veins that bulged with each movement. Its jaws opened too wide, lined with teeth that glimmered faint blue.
Rook snarled and shot forward, fur bristling, silver eyes bright with fury.
"Hold!" Hale barked.
Rook froze mid surge, hackles quivering. The beast landed just short of them, crouched and hissing, its claws gouging into stone.
Another shape padded from the left, circling, its growl a chittering hum that vibrated in Elias's teeth.
"Two," Lysera said sharply. Her crossbow lifted, thread light already sparking across the etched arms. "At least."
Elias felt it too, the sharp spike of resonance, jagged and near. He drew a slow breath, reached. Threads shimmered faint around his arm, sliding into the spear. The reforged veins brightened, dull blue glow crawling steady along the weapon's length. His stance lightened, strength flowing into muscle.
The mist thickened until it seemed to breathe against their skin, every tendril curling like fingers reaching for warmth. Roots writhed underfoot, slick with damp, and Elias swore they pulsed faintly when stepped on, like veins pumping some unseen lifeblood.
He tightened his grip on the spear and scanned the shadows, but the Thornveil didn't need movement to unsettle, it hummed. The Loom's resonance pressed against his ribs and teeth, crawling into his ears until it felt like the forest itself was whispering.
"Damn," Elvi muttered, stringing her bow tighter. "I don't like fighting where I can't see the sky. At least in the open you know what direction death's coming from."
"Give me stone above my head any day," Thorek grumbled from the rear, shifting his hammer. "This isn't a forest, it's a bloody lung. Everything here breathes when it shouldn't. Roots shouldn't chew at your boots, and trees shouldn't hum like harps."
"Quiet," Hale cut in. His voice was flat but not harsh. He moved them with clipped gestures, falling into the rhythm of a commander drilling a perimeter, Lysera forward, Elvi watching the left, Noll tight on Elias's shadow. Thorek anchored the rear with his hammer, humming under his breath like a forge waiting to be stoked.
Noll's hand trembled against the ward etched across his arm, light flickering along the pattern. His lips pressed thin, jaw working as if he was chewing his fear down.
Elias caught his eye. "Breathe."
"I am," the boy hissed back.
"Not like a rabbit," Elias said, voice low. "In through the nose, steady, hold it. Out slow, don't let the hum get in your head. You panic, you choke, you die."
Noll swallowed, tried again. His chest rose and fell slower, steadier. The flicker of his ward dimmed but didn't vanish.
"Better," Elias said, nodding once. "Stay behind the spear. Don't play the hero."
"I wasn't going to," Noll muttered, but his eyes steadied.
The squad moved again, boots squelching in damp loam, the mist swallowing each step like the Thornveil wanted to erase them.
Elias's scars prickled, his whole body alive with that crawling resonance. He flexed his fingers against the spear, the glow under the etched veins throbbing faintly with each heartbeat. It felt wrong, unnatural, but familiar, too. Like racking a rifle back on Earth, hearing the click, the readiness of it. His body knew it was about to be tested.
"Feels like a patrol before an ambush," he muttered without thinking.
Hale glanced back at him, eyes narrowing. "You've done this before."
Elias grunted. "More times than I care to count."
Something like respect flickered in Hale's gaze before it hardened again. He jerked his chin toward the mist. "Then you know what's coming."
"Yeah," Elias said quietly. "An enemy that wants us rattled before it even shows its teeth."
Rook growled low, the sound vibrating through Elias's calf. The cub's silver eyes blazed faintly, locked on the shifting fog. His hackles stood high, his body coiled with the same tension Elias felt.
Lysera's voice carried back, sharp as steel on stone. "Threadbeasts circle. Always. They'll pace the line until they taste your fear. Don't give it to them."
Elias's jaw clenched. He muttered, "Fear's not the problem. It's holding back enough not to break something I don't mean to."
Lysera half turned, eyes narrowing, but before she could speak, the mist moved. A ripple, like something too big brushing against the weave.
The hum spiked.
Elias froze. His chest tightened, every instinct screaming. He knew this rhythm, it was the moment before gunfire back home, before a roadside bomb went off, before the enemy came screaming through the dust. His gut twisted with the same old certainty, it was coming.
He pulled a sharp breath, forcing it slow, steady, and pushed resonance into the spear. The reforged veins caught the glow, spreading like fire in dry grass, climbing up the shaft until it thrummed alive in his hands. His stance steadied, strength flowing through tired legs like borrowed fire.
The glow cut a faint line through the fog, a promise of violence waiting.
He almost smiled, grim and thin. "Hell. Feels like home."
Not a cut, not collapse, a proper weave Elias thought to himself.
The first beast lunged.
Elias didn't think,he moved. The spear thrummed in his hands, blue glow tracing the reforged veins as resonance poured through him. His stance lightened, breath sharpening, vision narrowing. He stepped into the thrust, the weapon singing through the mist, and drove the head deep into the creature's flank.
The beast shrieked, a sound that rattled the trees. Threads along its body spasmed and snapped, sparks of resonance bursting from torn flesh. Elias ripped the spear free, planted his heel, and spun. His body moved faster than it should have, legs pumping strength that wasn't his own.
Noll gaped, his ward flickering around his forearm. "Shit"
"Keep your line!" Hale barked, driving his own spear into the ground, holding the perimeter.
The second beast leapt, jaws wide. Lysera's bolt snapped from her bow, guided by a thin weave of force. The bolt curved in flight, striking the beast in the eye. It crashed short, tumbling, claws gouging dirt, half blinded but still thrashing.
Elvi's arrow sang after, catching the exposed throat. The beast convulsed, then lay still, smoke curling from the wound.
"One down," Elvi murmured, already nocking the next arrow.
The first beast wasn't finished. It staggered, half its flank hanging loose from Elias's strike, threads sparking like frayed wires. Its jaws opened wider, a resonance hum rising in its throat.
"Shit, it's weaving!" Elias barked.
"Cut it!" Lysera snapped.
Elias's instinct flared. The resonance in his chest spiked, sharp as broken glass. He felt the threads tangling in the beast's throat, winding together for something violent. His hand twitched, his body ready to sever
No. Not this time. Not by accident.
He snarled, forcing the spear steady, and shoved power into it instead. The weapon hummed brighter, etchings blazing, and when the beast lunged he drove the point straight down its throat.
The weave shattered on contact, resonance bursting in a shockwave that knocked Elias back a step. The beast convulsed once, threads snapping, then collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs and smoke.
Silence followed.
Elias stood panting, spear humming in his hands, blue light fading. His scars burned, sweat dripping into his eyes. But his stance held. His ribs didn't collapse. He hadn't cut threads by accident, he'd chosen how to break them.
"Hell," he muttered, breath ragged. "That actually worked."
Rook bounded forward, hackles high, and tore into the fallen beast's carcass. His jaws split flesh, ripping at the twitching resonance cores inside. Lysera stepped to intercept, but Elias lifted a hand.
"Let him," he said quietly.
The cub's silver eyes glowed brighter as he dug deep, muzzle slick with blood and ash. When he wrenched his head back, the faint pulse of a Thread core shimmered in his jaws before dissolving down his throat. Rook shuddered, fur bristling with light for a heartbeat before it dimmed again.
"Saints," Noll whispered, eyes wide. "He… he ate it."
"That's how Threadbeasts grow stronger," Lysera said coldly, reloading her crossbow. Her gaze flicked to Elias. "You should remember what you keep at your side."
Elias met her stare without flinching. "He's mine."
Rook licked his muzzle, tail low but steady, then pressed against Elias's leg with a low growl. The cub's body trembled with resonance, as though something inside had been stoked alive.
"That was only two," Hale said sharply, scanning the mist. "There will be more."
Elias tightened his grip on the spear, heart pounding. His body thrummed with leftover resonance, alive in a way that made his scars burn but didn't break him. He glanced at his companions, Lysera already sighting down her crossbow, Elvi drawing another arrow, Noll readying to weave his ward with trembling arms, Thorek grinning like a madman, hammer itching for work.
"Then let 'em come," Elias said, voice low, fierce. "We'll send the bastards back to the ash."
As if on cue, the howls rose again, closer now, circling in the mist.
The pack was gathering.