When i came closer i felt somthing.
There's something in the air.
An invisible tension, like a cold breath against my neck.
As if the jungle itself is watching me.
I move slowly, step by step, following the trail of footprints-until they suddenly stop.
My breath catches.
Gone? Here?
Instinctively, I slip behind a rock and hold my breath.
Leaves rustle.
Someone's coming.
A figure emerges through the green.
A man.
Or at least... something that looks like one.
He's tall and slender, his movements graceful - almost unnaturally fluid.
His hair - dark blond and long - falls over his shoulders, glinting in the sunlight that pierces through the leaves.
His skin is too clean for someone who belongs here.
And just beside his right eye, I see a small mole - a detail that makes him human in spite of his otherworldly aura.
But it's his eyes that freeze me in place: brown, sharp, and so focused they seem to dissect the world itself.
He's wearing a green shirt, half torn, with a dark scarf draped over it.
His pants are brown but so worn that they look more like shorts.
His feet are bare, like mine.
"Ha," I whisper softly. "He doesn't have shoes either. Guess I'm not the only one."
A weak chuckle escapes me - but that small mistake betrays my position.
The man turns in one smooth, unnatural motion.
His gaze locks onto me instantly.
Cold. Deadly.
My heart starts pounding.
It feels like he could kill me with just his eyes.
I rise slowly, my hands trembling.
"Wait! I don't want to fight!"
No response.
His stance remains firm, eyes like blades.
He doesn't trust me - and honestly, who would?
Slowly, I raise my hands in the air.
He shifts his weight, ready to strike.
Okay, that didn't work. Think, Noric, think!
I swallow hard. Then I drop down, turn over, and lie flat on my stomach.
Arms over my head, face in the sand.
(This works on bears. Hopefully it works on homicidal strangers too.)
Time crawls by.
I hear him breathing.
Still there.
Still silent.
After a few long minutes-shuffling.
I slowly turn my head.
He's standing upright now, no longer in a fighting stance.
I can see him more clearly. Young - maybe nineteen.
Flawless skin, features sharp as carved marble.
But then I notice his ears. Long. Pointed.
A strange feeling stirs in my chest.
"An... elf," I whisper. "A real elf."
My heart races. So they do exist.
The elf looks at me coolly.
"Humans are strange," he says dryly. "Is this how you greet each other?"
"No, no!" I blurt. "I just thought you were going to kill me."
He shrugs. "That was indeed the plan.
But your behavior intrigues me. Something about you says you're not worth killing."
"Oh... nice."
So my stupid idea actually worked.
"What did you say?" he asks sharply.
"Nothing! Nothing at all!"
I scratch my neck nervously.
"I'm Noric. Noric Perdante Illwinter.
And you are...?"
He studies me for a long moment, as if weighing every word.
Then he says, "Lucardio Azelfso."
"Lucardio..."
The name sounds melodic, strangely familiar.
"Can I call you Luca?"
"No."
"Oh... sorry."
Note to self: no nicknames for elves. They have zero humor.
The silence that follows is heavy.
Two strangers, facing each other, in a world unknown to both.
One with sharp ears and sharper words.
The other with nothing - except confusion.
Suddenly, Lucardio moves. His eyes narrow, his ears twitch slightly.
He dives behind the rock I had just hidden behind.
"Pssst," he whispers. "Over here."
I crawl beside him. "What is it?"
"I was hunting before you showed up.
Your noise scared my prey away. Thanks for that."
His voice drips with sarcasm.
Great. My first acquaintance in this world already hates me.
"Uh... sorry?"
He ignores me. With swift, precise movements, he gathers branches, leaves, and stones.
Within minutes, he crafts a bow - wood, grass, and rock, perfectly balanced.
I stare in awe.
He makes a weapon faster than I can spell the word bow.
He tests the string with his thumb.
"A true hunter takes his weapon from nature," he says with a proud little smile.
"Otherwise, he isn't a hunter."
I nod obediently. "Right. Of course not."
My throat is dry. My brain's racing.
If I say the wrong thing, he'll kill me. If I say nothing, I'll look weak. Which is worse?
I take a breath. "Lucardio?"
He doesn't look up. "What?"
"May I ask... what are we hunting?"
He pauses, then pulls something from beneath his scarf.
A blue feather, small but vividly colored.
"This," he says.
"A birdlike creature. The color gives away the species.
Two black stripes, white between them.
And from the tracks in the sand, I know it can't fly.
No traces leading upward, wings too small, no magical resonance.
From the depth of its prints, I estimate
sixty kilos, roughly nineteen decimeters tall."
I blink. "You got all that from one feather?"
"A hunter sees what others overlook."
I swallow. Okay. Note to self: never argue with someone who can do that.
Still, I dare one more question.
"If we catch it... can I have a piece of the meat?"
His eyes flick up.
My stomach twists. Oh no, that sounded wrong.
Lucardio stays silent for a moment, then says:
"Only if you help.
No claim to the kill, and you swear we use everything. No waste."
I nod quickly. "I swear. No waste."
He smirks slightly. "Good. Then you're part of the hunt."
And he gave me another bow he created.
That went... better than expected.
"Lucardio, can I ask you somethi-"
"Shh."
He suddenly presses a hand over my mouth and pulls me down.
"He's coming."
His voice is barely a whisper.
I feel his breath against my cheek.
We ready our bows.
Well, he does. I just pretend.
I can't even draw a bowstring. This is going to be embarrassing.
Lucardio's eyes narrow. His ears twitch.
He draws.
"Now," he whispers.
A blue figure emerges from between the rocks.
Lucardio releases.
The arrow slices through the air-then a scream rings out.
Human. Too human.
I freeze.
Lucardio steps forward, his expression suddenly tense.
"Something's wrong."
"What do you mean?" I whisper.
He stops. His eyes darken.
"Oh... I was wrong."
"Wrong?"
"It's not a bird," he says slowly. "It's a beastman. Half human, half bird."
Beastman?
I follow his gaze.
There, slumped against a rock, lies something - someone.
A creature with wings, feathers, yet a human body.
I step closer.
The being collapses, breathing heavily.
Up close, I can see clearly now.
Legs like human ones, wings too thin to fly.
Its eyes glimmer weakly.
Blood seeps from a wound on its arm.
What is he... a bird in human form? Or a human under a curse?
The air around us grows still.
Only the distant whisper of the sea remains.
And I feel it.
This... is only the beginning.