Chapter One: The Fog
It had been three years since Orian had joined the Holy Scouts, the peacekeepers of Sanctaria, patrolling its streets when most others slept.
Tonight was no different. He walked shoulder to shoulder with his closest friend, boots scuffing against the worn cobblestones. Lantern light spilled across empty alleys, throwing long shadows as they made their rounds.
Then, without warning, a mist began to rise. At first it was nothing unusual, just a creeping fog rolling low through the streets. The two scouts gave it little thought, continuing their patrol as always
Erynd walked sharp and upright as always, scanning the alleys. Orian stifled a yawn.
"You know," Erynd said, "for someone who begged to join the Scouts, you've grown awfully lazy."
"I didn't beg," Orian muttered. "I was recruited."
Erynd snorted. "Recruited? You mean dragged in. If it weren't for me, you'd still be dozing in Miriam's bakery, stuffing your face with free bread."
Orian smirked. "Not a bad life, honestly."
They turned a corner. The fog was thickening, pooling in the streets more than usual. Erynd noticed but didn't care much. Mist was mist.
A lantern flickered ahead. Another Scout, standing in the center of the street, raised his hand.
"Do you two see this? The fog, it's not natural."
Orian slowed, frowning. His friend tilted his head, just starting to notice the strange weight in the air
and then the scout's voice cut off in a strangled scream.
The man never finished. A shape surged from the mist, all claws and teeth, dragging him down in an instant. His lantern spun to the cobblestones, spilling light across the stones.
"Move!" Orian barked, already breaking into a run. Erynd was right beside him, blades flashing free.
Another scream split the night, echoing from the distance. The sound of tearing metal, the roar of beasts.
They sprinted toward the Scout's last cry, when something slammed out of the whiteness, striking Erynd square in the chest. He was hurled across the street and crashed into a wall with brutal force.
"Erynd!"
Orian skidded to a halt, heart pounding, as the fog around him writhed with more shadows, snarls rising from every direction.
Sanctaria's quiet night was gone.
Orian cut down a Damned that leapt for him, then another. He fought his way through the chaos toward his friend, more and more screams tearing across the city.
He was almost to Erynd when the mist split open again. A massive Damned lunged from the side, jaws gaping. Before Orian could raise his blade, teeth clamped around his torso and snapped him in half.
Blood sprayed across the stones. The creature shook once, then bolted back into the fog with Orian's broken body clenched in its maw.
Erynd, dazed against the wall, watched it vanish. His heart stopped, his mind unable to grasp what he had just seen. His best friend
"Protect the civilians!" a voice bellowed through the chaos.
The cry snapped him back.
Erynd forced himself to his feet, agony tearing through his arm as he realized it was broken. But there was no time to think. A woman screamed at the far end of the street, a child clinging to her skirts as Damned poured from the alleys.
Erynd roared and charged, slashing his way into the fray with his good arm, pain be damned
Erynd dragged the girl out of the Damned's reach, his sword hacking through pale flesh until the creature crumpled. The mother sobbed, clutching her child as Erynd forced himself to keep moving.
"Orian!" he shouted, voice raw, cutting his way back through the swarm. Each time his blade fell, another shadow surged from the fog, forcing him onward by instinct alone.
At the far end of the street, a lantern's glow caught on something, something still.
Erynd's chest seized.
Orian's body.
He charged, ignoring the pain burning through his broken arm. His sword carved a bloody path, but before he could reach the lifeless figure, a Damned slammed into him, throwing him hard against the wall again. The air ripped from his lungs, ribs screaming in protest.
The creature stalked closer, jaws opening, its teeth gleaming wet in the light. Erynd struggled to rise, weapon slipping in his trembling grip.
Then another sound cut the night: a woman's scream.
Erynd's head jerked sideways. Down a side street, a mother shielded her boy as two Damned closed in.
"No…" Erynd rasped. He pushed off the wall, stumbling toward them, his arm nearly useless, every breath agony. But he ran anyway.
The first Damned lunged, and Erynd's blade split its throat. The second raked its claws across his shoulder, tearing deep, but he drove the sword upward through its skull. The boy cried, the mother clutched him, and Erynd stood over them, panting, drenched in blood that wasn't only the creatures'.
"All Scouts! Rally at the city center! The Damned are converging there!"
The words weren't neat commands, they were frantic shouts, thrown into the chaos by a captain forcing order with nothing but his voice. More Scouts answered, rushing past Erynd.
Erynd staggered, clutching his ruined arm, his gaze still flicking back to where he had seen Orian's broken body. But the fog had swallowed it again, and there was no time to search.
Grinding his teeth, he gripped his sword tighter.
"Damn you, Orian," he whispered. "Don't you dare leave me alone."
Erynd leapt from roof to roof with the others, the city below lit by fire and screaming. Damned swarmed the streets, forcing the Scouts to take the higher ground, blades and torches flashing in the dark.
A Scout running beside him cried out as something lunged from the shadows, jaws snapping shut around him. The man disappeared in an instant.
"Damn it!" Erynd veered, diving after him. His body ached, his broken arm screaming in protest, but he didn't care. He dropped to the street, blade ready
And froze.
The Scout wasn't dead. He was on his knees, coughing, being pulled to his feet by
"Orian?" Erynd's voice cracked. He ran, nearly stumbling in disbelief. "Orian!"
His friend turned, steadying the shaken Scout. His face was pale in the torchlight, but whole, untouched.
"Orian, how," Erynd choked on the words.
"I don't know," Orian said, eyes wide, breath quick. "I just woke up… like I was asleep. No pain. Nothing."
Erynd's head spun. He had seen Orian's body. He had seen it broken.
Before he could demand answers, a voice bellowed down the street: "Scouts! Keep moving! Don't stop!"
Orian gave a tight nod, already turning to run. "We'll figure it out later! Come on!"
Erynd stared a heartbeat longer, his chest heavy with confusion and relief. Then he clenched his jaw, forcing his legs forward, chasing after Orian into the burning heart of the city.
They ran side by side, the streets a blur of broken stone and firelight. Erynd kept glancing at Orian, his mind refusing to catch up with what his eyes saw. His friend, alive. Whole. Running like nothing had ever touched him.
"Stop staring at me," Orian muttered without looking back.
"Is your arm," Orian's eyes flicked to Erynd's side.
"It's fine," Erynd snapped, even as pain flared down his broken limb.
Before Orian could press him, a sound split the night.
A roar. Not like any beast, nor storm. Something vast. Distant, yet so loud it rattled the streets. It came from beyond the city walls, rolling over rooftops like thunder that wouldn't end.
Every Damned froze.
Their heads turned as one.
Then, like water rushing downhill, they changed course. From every alley, every broken street, every rooftop, the pale-skinned horrors abandoned their prey and poured outward, rushing back toward the city gates.
Scouts and civilians alike stood in shock, blades lowered, watching the tide of monsters vanish into the dark. The only sound was their pounding feet, fading as quickly as they'd come.
Silence fell.
The mist, thick and choking only moments before, began to thin. Lanterns cut through the streets again, torches found their light. Slowly, voices returned, shaken, broken, crying out for loved ones.
"Help here!"
"We need bandages, now!"
"Get her to the square!"
Scouts rushed to the wounded, hauling rubble off the trapped, carrying the bleeding into the open. Families stumbled from hiding, some reunited, others screaming names into the empty night.
Erynd bent forward, gasping, his sword slick in his grip. His gaze flicked sideways. Orian stood there, chest heaving but untouched, watching the mist unravel into the night sky.
"What the hell just happened?" Erynd whispered.
Orian said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the roar had come from.