Quang sat quietly next to the now extinguished fire pit, slowly sharpening his axe with a stone while contemplating on how to protect what left of his tribe. Before the exodus, their tribe numbered more than a thousand, now a third of that is either dead or lost. There have been other survivors, pockets of people that couldn't catch up, from either their own village or from other tribes that lived near them, driven out of their home by the volcano and the monsters. Monsters that have been harassing and hounding their every step on their way to the Mountain's Maws, the place where he and every other chieftain were told to go to, should their home be destroyed.
They were lucky though, having crossed the rivers when the water was at its lowest, they've managed to cut off most of the pursuing monsters. Most, but not all. The old chieftain reminded himself as he stood up and walked toward the edge of the hillside. He's chosen a good place to rest and make camp, the rugged landscape dotted with growths of pine trees, rocky hills and outcrops provides ample defensible positions, while the open grasslands make any attempt to sneak up on them nigh impossible.
Yet sneaked up on they were, as Quang moved his head from side to side slowly, he could see small shadows dashing in and out of the corners of his vision. They were being watched, but by the monsters, they were too elegant, too agile, too quick and decisive to be monsters.
- Elves… - The older chieftain mumbled to himself, catching a glimpse of the petite figure classed in dark purple light armor before it disappeared from his vision completely.
- Chieftain? - A huntress approached, she looked around nervously before making a few more steps toward the towering figure. - The hunting party have some…unnerving reports.
- What is it? Did you find any sign of Quetz's group? - The old chief asked, not turning to face the huntress.
- No chieftain, not since they were separated. - The huntress shook her head, despite not seeing her face, Quang knew that she was smiling. - We found tracks, chieftain, markings and monster corpses with their hands pointing at…
- The mountains?
- Y-yes chief, - Huntress was surprised by her chieftain's answer. - how did you know?
- It's been foretold. - The old chief mumbled and turned around. - Is everything prepared?
- We still need to help the elders and wounded, chieftain. - The huntress replied. - We have another report, apparently some of the monsters did followed us to this side of the last river we crossed, and a hunter reported seeing a massive plume of dust cloud due east.
- How far?
- Two days of walking, give or take. We also found signs of other tribes. Considering the size of the abandoned campsite, I say that it's likely that it's their main bulks.
- Hmm… - Quang frowned, contemplating the situation. - Return to post, tell everyone to prepare to move out, if other tribes did pass through here, we should be able to catch up with them.
The huntress nodded and left him for the campsite where most of the refugees have already prepared for their long trek, with their tall tents and campfires the only things that haven't been dismantled. But with the chieftain's order, the tall tents were slowly pulled apart, first the wall of animal hide, leaving the frames looming like skeletal remains of great beasts before they too were unmade. Within the hour, the massive camp has already been cleared out, its people prepared and accounted for, thanks to the helps of the nomadic tribesmen that they've found on the way.
With the chieftain's order, came the voices of unease, as the more skeptical members of the tribes started to chitter amongst themselves, talks of abandoning the main group or steal from the weak and defenseless with a minor case of robbery prevented. It was unavoidable, Quang thought as he leads his people into the wilderness. They didn't have time to prepare for the exodus, most of the crops were not harvested due to the attacks, what little food that they did bring was already dwindling, and they still have at least two more days to reach their destination. It didn't help that they're heading into a tundra either, finding preys on the lowlands was hard enough, but here…
Quang adjust the wolf fur scarf, protecting himself from the cold winds, behind him marched a horde of refugees at least seven hundreds strong, many of which were children and old people. He sighed and pushed onward, toward the mountains, passing ancient ruins and pine forests. And they weren't alone as he's come to realized, every step that he took, he could feel countless eyes watching his cohort of refugees, hearing the phantom footsteps every time they stop to let their beasts of burden rest. The elves' numbers have grown, just as Quetz have said they would when he told Quang and the other chieftains to take the paths toward the Mountain's Maw. That's a good thing, the old chieftain told himself, that means that they're going to the right direction. But strangely, no one, not even his best hunters have reported seeing or hearing the elves, as if they're only showing themselves just for him, as if they wanted to be seen only by him. Yet despite the lack of reports, a strange unease has settled itself in the heart of every soul in his band, a sense of vulnerability, not from the feeling of being watched per se, but from the scent of death and carnage that has accompanied them since they crossed the river.
As first even the weakest of the group could shrug it off easily, attributing it to the sock of loosing their ancestral home and the lost of so many lives. But it's gotten worse, the sense of unease has grown into a plague of fear ever since the scouts reported seeing a huge dust cloud in the east, followed by the tales of the nomads that have joined them, about war herds of beasts that have the upper bodies of human, but walk on cloven hooves with monstrous horns sprouting from their heads.
- Look! Over there!
- What is it?
- I see smoke! There must be a village near by!
- By the ancestors! We're save!
- Chieftain look! Smoke!
The ruckus caused Quang to snap awake from his contemplation. He looked to where the refugees were pointing at, and was surprised to see a column of black smoke slowly rising from just over the ridge up ahead. Then another, and another, and another, until half a dozen smoke columns stood grimly against the pale sky of early afternoon.
- Chieftain! We're saved! - A refugee that stood next to him proclaimed, then took a step forward to the direction of the smoke column, causing the others to follow.
- No, stop! - Quang commanded loudly. - We do not know what those smoke are!
- What do you mean?! - Another refugee asked, frustration was clear in his voice. - It means there are people there!
- We don't know that! - Quang protested. - It could be anything!
- How do you know that?! - A woman spoke out angrily. - Are you saying you know where we're going?!
- No! But Quetz told me…
- That monster?! You're listening to that monster?! How do you know you can trust him?! What if he's leading us to his lair to kill all of us for that witch?!
Murmurs, then shouts of agreement ruptured from the crowd that have gathered around the old chief, with his loyal hunters struggling to keep them back. The shouts kept getting louder and louder, calling for retributions for the dead, accusing Haru of being a witch that has summoned a demon upon them, then accusing the old chief of being a traitor. Quang tried desperately to calm the people to no avail, they were too consumed by fear and anger, fear of the unknown lands they're in, anger for the boy that they've falsely accused of cursing them to this. A sharp sound pierced through the oceans of noises, then a large thud caused the screaming to die down as the lifeless body of a hunter dropped to the ground, a pool of blood slowly expanding from the wound on his chest.
In front of him stood a youngster, barely older than Mitsuki, shakily holding on to the now bloodied spear, terrified eyes staring at the old chief for guidance like all of them have for countless times before. He stood there, barely able to keep his legs from shaking, mouth blabbering as if to plead to Quang. But answering his pleading wasn't the old chief, it was the entirety of the now dead silence refugees. The boy immediately dropped the spear and desperately turned, hoping to escape the condemning glares of his fellow tribesmen. But before he could even take a step, countless hands reached to him, grabbing, pushing, clawing, tearing, drowning his pitiful screams for help in a new wave of shouting.
- Murderer!
- Killer!
- Traitor!
- Witch!
- No! Let him go! - Quang bolted for the boy, shoving his way through the writhing sea of angry, scared and desperate people.
But it was too late for him. It was too late for the boy.
By the time the old chieftain has reached the now silence boy, there was little left of him but a pile of torn fabric and flesh soaked in blood and sweats. His assailants stood there, eyes widened in horror and regret, with some still clutching on the pieces of the unfortunate boy in their hands. Gods, what have they turned into? Quang asked himself, petrified in his spot as the terrified wailings starting to erupted from one of the people who've torn the boy to pieces. The circle of people started to panic, accusations were thrown and and pushed around as people tried to deny what they've done. They tried to pushed the claim of murder around, smearing each other with the blood on their hands, not willing to admit to the crime that they've committed.
- Enough! Stop!
Once again they were silence, all eyes now focused on the old chief again, who quietly walked toward the mangled corpse. He fell to his knees and looked around, at all the blood stained faces pointing at him. Friends. Family. That's what he called them, when they're at the village, when they're sane. Now he doesn't recognize any of them anymore, all he saw were blood stained faces, twisted with fear and anger, ate away by a sickness of the mind. Are these the people whom he hunted with, called friends and family, whom he has sworn to protect with his life?
- Look around you. - The old chieftain pleaded. - Have you not had your fill of death?
Silence greeted his words, silence befell the crowd as they look around, ashamed and terrified of what they've become. There were murmurs, questions, arguing, of what to do next, of where to go. For a brief moment, Quang felt relieved, something that he hasn't had the chance of experiencing ever since Quetz came to the village the other day. He backed away from the crowd, a silent queue for them to stop and rest, before sitting down and resting his back against the boulder.
- Chieftain. - A hunter approached, followed by several others that have stood by his side when the brief riot broke out.
- What is it? - Quang looked up, he recognized that look on the hunter's face, something was bothering him.
- Some of the lads and lasses have been sent out to scout the area of the smoke columns. - The hunter replied in hushed tones, not wishing to alert the other refugees.
- Have they returned? - Quang asked in equally quiet voice.
- No chieftain. - The hunter shook his head. - They've been gone since we left the last resting spot, but we haven't heard any reports from them. Do you think…something has happened to them?
- …It's hard to say. - The old chief replied hesitantly. - We don't know anything about this place, so it's likely that they're just lost.
- So…what do you want us to do?
- …Call up another scouting party, I'll lead them myself. - Quang stood up and clutched his axe. - The rest of you, protect the refugees and organize hunting parties.
- Yes chieftain.
As the hunters started to spread the words of his commands, Quang turned his eyes toward the smoke columns again and felt concerned. Whatever it was that's burning, it's still does, looming in the pale skies like dark giants overseeing that corner of the land.