**Caer's POV:**
In ancient times, when mankind descended from the trees, they learned to use fire, fashioned sharp blades, invented wheels, began paving trails, and ultimately learned to plant seeds and settle in one place. However, they did not possess a nation or a king. Homo sapiens had yet to dream and had not yet ascended to the pinnacle of the great pyramid of Nature; our glorious land, Orvak, the land of our ancient mothers.
Footsteps echoed through the woods,First rapid, then slowing. Raspy breaths could be heard as the wild men, clad in thick furs draped over their shoulders and light fabric covering their torsos down to their waists, armed themselves with weapons featuring blades on both arms and a bow slung across their backs. Sweat streamed down their faces as they frequently glanced back in fear, wary of an unseen force. In the vast, lonely woods, they were not alone; something was hunting them. Before they could fully comprehend their predicament, five men had vanished, leaving only their terrified screams behind.
The hunt continued, carried out by a predator that remained unseen, its speed astonishing. Some might even say it was faster than light and a trickster. Turen, the leader of the hunters, was no stranger to fear. He clung tightly to his weapon as he anxiously scanned his surroundings. He could hear the cries of his men but was powerless to fight against an enemy he could not see.
"Bastards, Kaeliths!" he cursed under his breath. What should have been a successful hunting spree had turned deadly; they had become the hunted. "We underestimated them…" he murmured just as something flashed through the trees. "Over there!" he shouted, catching his men's attention as they raced toward the direction he indicated.
As they ran, their comrades continued to disappear one by one, their screams ringing out into the woods. No one dared to stop. They reached a cluster of thick branches and searched desperately around it but found nothing. Then they heard it, a piercing sound from behind. They turned just in time to see the lifeless body of a fallen warrior tumble from the branches.
Turen pushed through the crowd to get a better look at the cadaver. His breath quickened, and his heart sank. His eyes widened in horror as he whispered to himself, "What a terrible way to die…" He scanned the branches hanging above, searching in vain for signs of the predator.
Clenching his teeth in anger, he sprinted off, and the rest of his men followed. Suddenly, a warrior's desperate scream pierced the air as he was slammed against a tree, his lifeless body crashing to the ground. Another man was taken down, heightening the tension as each man felt the weight of dread, uncertain of who would be next.
Determined not to wait for his turn to die, Turen snatched up an oil lamp and some firewood that had been dropped by one of the fallen warriors and ran. As the sky darkened, the woods began to be enveloped in fog.
The young man halted, sat down, and pulled dried sticks from his pouch. He lit them and blew gently on the flames, trying to create a smokescreen.
The fog swelled around him, and suddenly he froze, hearing a low growl behind him. His hand trembled with fear, causing him to drop the items he was holding. Slowly, he turned and locked eyes with icy blue ones peering through the fog. Panicking, Turen crawled backward until his back pressed against a tree. The figure emerged gradually from the mist, and beads of sweat trickled down Turen's face, leaving him covered in goosebumps as he trembled in terror.
When the creature came into full view, the flickering light from the lamp and sticks cast its shadow in the darkness. It appeared to be a man but was unmistakably not human. With blue skin, blue lips, and razor-sharp nails ready to strike, it advanced toward him.
"The land belongs to everyone," it spoke, uttering the language of the Kaeliths, a language of the beast. Turen didn't understand the words, but he knew clearly that he was about to meet his end.
Their eyes locked, and Turen's heartbeat quickened as he gasped for breath. His brown eyes darted around the beast's figure until they landed on an open wound from which blue blood oozed. *No wonder they're called the blue-blood men, a figure that resembles a human but is clearly not human*, he thought.
The Kaelith hissed, raising his arm to strike, but he suddenly paused, his ear twitching as he heard the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air. He dodged just in time, and the arrow thudded into the tree trunk behind Turen.
Looking up, the young man found the beast had vanished, and he let out a sigh of relief. But before he could fully relax, a barrage of arrows descended upon him from above.
Atop a nearby cliff, archers continued to rain arrows into the thick forest at their leader's command, each arrow piercing through anything they struck.
"It's not here!" Turen shouted through clenched teeth, his voice strained as an arrow suddenly pierced through his thigh while he crawled desperately in search of cover. His eyes glinted with fury and pain as he felt the searing burn of the arrow's impact.
Just then, he heard footsteps approaching, his eyes lazily raised to see who it was. Turns out to be the Reinforcement team.
"Stop shooting!" A man, on seeing the lad in his own blood, ordered one of the reinforcement Army to shoot a flare up to the sky as a signal to the archers on the cliff.
"Ahhh!" Turen cried out, his eyes almost popping out as the arrow was being pulled out, his hand hit the ground, as he tried to seek comfort from it.