Here, the woods were darker, the canopy a dense gloom that consumed what little light the sky provided. Kael and Liora didn't tarry, breathing hard, their steps as quiet as they could keep. In the distance, the fading screams of shouting still lingered in the air—the soldiers had realized she was gone.
"They'll be looking for us," Liora said softly, glancing back over her shoulder. Her hand wrapped tightly around the sharpened stick, knuckles white.
Kael didn't say anything. His gaze remained forward, his eyes roaming over the darkness, the battered sword he held heavy in his hand. He knew she was correct. He also understood that if they slowed, if they stumbled even once, chains would wrap themselves around them once more.
Finally, when the wails had faded away into the distance, they stood with their backs against the bark of a dried-up oak tree. The stillness was too fragile, too easily broken.
She watched him in the dark. "That sword of yours… it sliced through iron like fire. What is it?"
Kael looked down at the battered knife. The cracks in its edge seemed to glow with a faint light, as if it breathed. He shook his head. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"It was given me. That's all." His voice was low, almost apologetic.
Liora leaned forward, her eyes sharp despite the exhaustion etched on her face. "And you don't question why it's broken? Why it does. that?"
Kael's throat closed up. Memories stirred—shadows devouring men, his own hand trembling while screams echoed in his head. He shoved them back. "Some things are better not asked."
Liora gazed at him for a long time. Then, instead of pushing, she sat back against the tree, her gaze wandering upwards through the leaves. "When they chained me, I thought I'd never feel fresh air again. I kept telling myself… if I survive, maybe someone will find me. Someone who still knows how to fight." She stopped, her voice becoming soft. "I didn't think that someone would be a boy with a broken sword."
Kael stared at her, unsure what to say. Her words stirred something she didn't know—something dangerously close to warmth.
Before he could have answered, the forest shifted. A distant thunder shook through the ground, like thunder in the distance. Liora sat upright in her seat.
"What was that?"
Kael's grip on the sword tightened. The rumble came again, closer, tossing earth down upon them. Birds burst from the canopy in a whirlwind of wings.
Then, among the trees, fire erupted.
It wasn't torches.
It wasn't soldiers.
It was something else.
Something emerged into view, its body half-obscured in flames, its eyes smoldering like cooling coals. Its flesh appeared to be composed of cracked stone, glowing strands of fire tracing its faults. Its every footfall darkened the ground it trod.
Liora gasped, backing away. "What in the—"
Kael's chest tightened. He had witnessed death in all its forms, but this… this was no animal of flesh and blood. This was a monster of ancient legend, the sort told to scare children.
The creature's eyes flicked towards them, and it let out a sound, an earth-shattering bellow that sent a murder of crows flying up into the air.
Kael reacted on instinct. He grasped and pulled Liora behind him, raising the broken sword. Shadows crept over the blade, whispering in low tones that only he could hear.
"Back," he commanded.
"Are you mad?" Liora retorted. "You can't defeat that!"
"Maybe not." Kael's voice was steady, although his hands shook. "But I can keep it a moment longer so you can get away."
The beast charged.
The ground trembled beneath its strides, and the flame blazing on its body lit up the wood with an otherworldly glow. Kael braced himself, every tendon protesting.
The broken sword pulsed.
And for a moment Kael thought he had heard something—a voice in the corner of his vision, dark-shrouded, murmuring words he couldn't understand.
Then the beast struck.