"Wake up, Elysia! Something is coming!"
Elysia came out of her doze, her mind still cluttered with remnants of haunting dreams, shaking her head to clear it, her neck and back aching from lying on the cold forest floor. The chill had broken through the insulation provided by the leaves of the trees and drained the strength from her body. She got slowly to her feet, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and, as quietly as she could, drew her sword and looked around her.
Frey stood close to her, like a solid statue frozen in the dim light of the dying fire. The red glow of the embers reflected on the blade of the sword, and it seemed that the dark hero held a blood-painted weapon in his hands.
Elysia looked up at the sky, and saw that the moon had almost set. Fortunately, dawn was not far off.
"What is it about?" she asked, but her voice caught in her throat and came out as a raspy whisper. She didn't need to see Frey's alert posture to know that something was wrong, for there was an air of quiet menace in the forest that she could sense with her sixth sense.
"Listen!"
Elysia obeyed, straining her ears to catch any unusual sounds. At first, she could only hear the heavy beating of her own heart. She didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, just the buzzing and chirping of nocturnal insects and the rustling of the breeze in the leaves of the trees. But then, from somewhere in the distance, she heard the murmur of voices so low they might have been a mere figment of her imagination. She looked at Frey at that time, and nodded.
Elysia turned her head to see what had happened to Kat, and she saw that she, too, was awake and sitting hunched over by the fire. Her eyes were wide and frightened in the firelight. The catgirl prayed that the sun would rise soon; She looked away from the fire and back into the shadows, determined never to impair her night vision again.
"Kat, add more fuel to the fire," he said quietly, and felt an almost overwhelming temptation to turn to see if she had obeyed him, but he fought it and was relieved to hear movement behind her and the crackle of wood. that lit The shadows quickly retreated, and the island of light they stood in spread out to encompass the nearest stretch of forest, where the trees looked like monochromatic titans in the dim illumination.
The catgirl stood completely still. Despite the chill of the night, her sweat ran down her back and dampened the fur on her tail; her palms were slippery, she felt the force leave her body, and she experienced the urge to flee from whatever approached her, which, to be sure, made no attempt to sneak up. .
In the distance, she could hear heavy footsteps, and at one point she heard a groan. Her stomach muscles had tightened and there was a quivering, shocked feeling in her belly. The unwary approach of her enemies betrayed an overwhelming confidence. Was she about to meet the destroyers of Kleinsdorf?
The strangest thing was that he began to feel the urge to move toward the noise, to investigate, not just stand by the fire like a ram awaiting its sacrifice. To calm himself down, he swung the sword a few times experimentally. The weapon hissed as it cleaved the air, and the leaf frogs gleamed brighter, as if in anticipation of the coming conflict. The flexing of his muscles and the alacrity of the dragon-hilted enchanted sword had the virtue of relaxing him a little, and a smile touched his lips. If he died here, he wouldn't die alone.
His confidence vanished as a chorus of howls echoed through the trees from half a dozen triumphant bestial throats. In the darkness before dawn, they were like echoes of his nightmares, of things out there, things he didn't want to face. The pursuers knew they were close, and prepared to rush in and kill.
Elysia wanted to drop the weapon and run; her strength poured out of her like wine from an overturned glass. Behind her, Kat whimpered, and she heard the sound of stealthy movement, as if the girl was crawling for cover.
"Calm down, Elysia. They do that to scare their enemies, to weaken them before the slaughter. Don't let fear dominate you."
Frey's thunderous and calm voice was almost reassuring, but Elysia couldn't help thinking that no matter what happened, the outcome would be acceptable to Frey. Either he would defeat the attackers or, more likely, meet a heroic death.
The catgirl wondered if this wasn't the right time to point out that if she didn't survive, there would be no one left to record Frey's glorious end. Her sense of humor made him chuckle softly, and she heard Frey approaching her.
They had the enemies practically on top of her, for she then heard the gritty scrape of her feet on the trail. They couldn't be more than a hundred paces apart, and Elysau looked around her for cover. Beneath the largest tree was an area of bushes, and she wondered to what extent it would be advisable to hide among them and then come out to surprise those who approached, or not to come out at all in the simple hope that they would not find her; but she realized that for her it was a very slim hope.
"Kat," she whispered as she pointed the point of her sword at the rose hips. "Hide there. If anything happens to Frey and me, stay hidden!"
She was gratified when she saw the little figure dart into the bushes, lie on its belly and slither away into the undergrowth. That way, she might have some chance of surviving if they perished.
"How did they find us?" she wondered. Was it just bad luck? Was it a scouting party that had stumbled upon them? Was there perhaps some kind of malevolent sorcery at play? When evil was involved, she could never tell. For a moment, she allowed herself the fantasy that it was just a mistake, that it was a group of merchants who would give them shelter; but she knew that only the dead or their murderers would march the Kleinsdorf road at night, and the thought made her shudder.
The sound of her footsteps was then so close that she had a feeling that the pursuers would appear in her sight at any moment, and she wished that the setting moon would break free of the clouds that covered them and provide her with comfort. More light. As if the gods had heeded her prayer, she tore a breach in the cloud canopy, and then she wished that hadn't happened.
The mysterious silver light of the moon filtered through the treetops to fall on the faces of those who stalked them: aberrations from the wildest reaches of their nightmares.
In the lead was a beastman, crouching low to the ground, sniffing the trail; he was the author of the wheezing sound Elysia had heard. He had a hairless dog face and a huge nose, and the spiked collar around his neck was attached to a heavy steel chain, the other end of which was held by a mighty goat-headed beastman. He had enormous muscles; A leather cloak was draped over his shoulders, and around his neck was a necklace that seemed to consist of dried eyes. He had no eyes of his own, just an expanse of white flesh in the sockets. Still, he walked as if he were able to see, and Elysia wondered what spell allowed such a thing. In his other hand he carried a huge club with a spiked end; the end was surrounded by coagulated substances, the nature of which she Elysia preferred not to think about.
Behind him, her minions advanced: small versions made after the same monstrous boss, hulking, muscular giants carrying rusty spears and swords. Bestial eyes, turned red by the fire, glared at them from the heads of goats and deer. Aside from the leader, none bore any obvious stigma of any special quality. The sight of it gave Elysia goosebumps and she raised the fur on her tail; the thought of what they had done in the village the night before filled her with both fear and anger.
The eyeless leader paused to gesture his followers with a massive, knuckled hand, and they entered the clearing and formed a semicircle before the catgirl and the dark hero.
Elysia moved into an attack stance, and she forced her muscles to relax as Frey had taught her. She tried to quiet her mind, to calm down, but before those enormous monsters she found it impossible.
For a long moment, the catgirl and the goatman glared at each other across the shadowy clearing. Elysia forced herself to stare into the eyes of the nearest goathead. "I'll kill you." She thought hoping to intimidate the creature, but her animal mouth opened from her and she stuck her tongue out at him as little flecks of foam appeared on her lips. She gave the impression of making fun of the catgirl. "Well, then maybe I won't." Elysia thought, and she smiled.
She wanted to look at Frey to see what she was going to do, but she didn't dare look away from her opponents because she was afraid that they might attack with supernatural speed if she looked away. That was the worst thing about facing enemies of an unknown nature: who knew what they might be capable of?
The beastmen stood as if they didn't quite know what to do with two undaunted opponents, looking at each other with amusement and indecision. "Perhaps they are deciding who will have priority over the meat of the prey and who will be the first to mate with me" Elysia thought. Suddenly it occurred to her that it was strange that beings with such a horrendous reputation for eating human flesh should have the heads of herbivores, and it occurred to her that perhaps this was a joke by the Evil Powers.
"Ready, Elysia?" Frey's voice seemed remarkably lucid for a frenzied madman who was about to go into combat. The tone was deep and calm, balanced, and conveyed not an iota of emotion.
"As much as I can ever be."
Elysia clenched her sword hilt to the point of pain, and the muscles in her forearms stiffened like bands of steel. When she heard Frey's wild laughter, she too charged to meet the enemy.