Kael's heart hadn't slowed since the figure vanished. His pulse pounded in his ears as he stood alone in the thickening gloom of the Ashwood, his hand still gripping the hilt of his knife so tightly that his fingers ached. The cold sweat on his skin mixed with the grime from his fall, but he barely noticed. His mind was locked on the figure's last words.
You're being hunted.
He had been running, yes. But hunted? By whom? Or worse—by what?
The forest felt darker now, the shadows deeper and more menacing. Even the wind seemed to whisper his name, swirling around the twisted branches overhead. Every creak of the wood, every flutter of leaves sounded too deliberate, as though something just out of sight was closing in, waiting for him to let his guard down.
Kael glanced around, trying to regain his bearings. The path he'd been following had disappeared in the chaos of his mad dash through the forest, leaving him stranded in an unfamiliar part of the Ashwood. The trees here stood closer together, their gnarled branches twisting into an almost impenetrable canopy above. The forest floor was littered with debris—fallen branches, thick moss, and patches of blackened soil where nothing grew.
He wiped a hand across his forehead, trying to calm himself. Panic wasn't going to help. He needed to think, to plan his next move. The figure might have been warning him or toying with him, but the truth was that staying in the open made him vulnerable.
You're being hunted.
The words echoed in his mind again, and this time, a cold dread settled in his chest. If something—someone—was hunting him, he couldn't just wait for it to find him. He had to stay ahead of it, stay hidden until he figured out what was going on.
Kael crouched low, moving toward the thickest part of the trees, keeping his steps quiet. His knife was ready, though he doubted it would be much use against whatever was out there. Still, it gave him some sense of control, however small.
He kept moving, weaving through the forest as quietly as he could, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The Ashwood was eerily silent now, the stillness pressing in on him from all sides. Even the birds, which had occasionally called out in the distance, had gone quiet. It was as though the forest itself had fallen under some dark spell, waiting, watching.
And Kael was at its center.
For what felt like hours, Kael wandered deeper into the forest, his body on high alert, every nerve humming with the anticipation of danger. He didn't know where he was going—only that he had to keep moving. The silence grew heavier the further he went, and the weight of it pressed down on him, making every step feel like a battle against the thick air itself.
His thoughts churned. What was hunting him? The figure had warned him, but it hadn't stayed long enough to explain. Was it a trick? A ploy to make him even more paranoid? Or was there truly something in the Ashwood stalking him?
As if to answer his question, a sudden rustle broke the silence.
Kael froze, his heart leaping into his throat. The sound came from somewhere behind him, but when he spun around, there was nothing. Only trees, their skeletal branches still as death.
He swallowed, gripping his knife tighter. The silence returned, but this time, it felt different. He could feel it now, a presence in the air—something heavy and unnatural, like a predator circling its prey.
Kael's pulse quickened. Don't panic. Stay focused.
Another rustle. This time closer.
Kael's eyes darted to the shadows, his breath shallow and quick. His mind raced. Whatever was following him was toying with him, staying just out of sight, testing him.
He took a step back, his foot landing on a branch with a sharp crack that echoed through the silence. The rustling stopped, the air thick with tension.
And then, from the shadows, something moved.
Kael barely had time to react before a dark shape lunged from the underbrush, moving with terrifying speed. He threw himself to the side, rolling as the creature's claws slashed the air where he had been standing just moments before.
Scrambling to his feet, Kael caught his first glimpse of the thing that had been stalking him.
It was a beast, but not like any he had seen before. Its body was long and sinewy, covered in coarse black fur that seemed to absorb the light around it. Its eyes, glowing a sickly yellow, locked onto him with an unnatural intelligence, as though it was studying him, calculating his next move. Its mouth twisted into a snarl, revealing rows of jagged, sharp teeth.
Kael's blood ran cold. This wasn't a wild animal. This was something else. Something… twisted.
The beast lunged again, faster than Kael expected. He barely managed to dodge, the creature's claws tearing into the ground where he had stood. Kael swung his knife, but it was a feeble attempt. The blade glanced off the beast's thick hide, barely leaving a scratch.
Before Kael could recover, the beast was on him again, its claws flashing through the air. He ducked, feeling the rush of wind as they passed over his head. Panic surged through him. He wasn't fast enough. He wasn't strong enough.
The beast circled him, its yellow eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. It was toying with him, just like the figure had warned. It was drawing this out, savoring his fear.
Kael backed away, his chest heaving with each breath. He had to think. He couldn't outrun it. He couldn't fight it, not like this.
Essence.
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. The power inside him—the one he didn't understand, the one he feared. He had used it before, hadn't he? In that moment of desperation, when the bandit had been ready to strike him down, the power had surged from within him, unbidden and wild.
Could he use it again?
The beast snarled, lowering itself to the ground, ready to strike.
Kael's heart raced. He didn't know how to control the Essence. He didn't even know if he could call it again. But he had no choice.
Closing his eyes, Kael tried to focus. He pictured the white flame, the heat that had surged through him that night in Valaris. He could feel the fear pulsing in his chest, the same fear that had triggered the power before.
But nothing came.
The beast roared, launching itself at him.
Desperation flooded Kael's veins. He raised his knife instinctively, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Not this time.
And then, at the last possible moment, a surge of heat erupted from his chest.
The world exploded into white fire.
The beast's claws met the flame, and for a moment, the two forces collided, crackling and screaming as Essence and flesh fought for dominance. Kael felt the power course through him, wild and uncontrollable, burning hotter and brighter than before.
With a guttural snarl, the beast recoiled, its yellow eyes wide with something Kael hadn't expected.
Fear.
The creature backed away, its snarls turning to whimpers as the white flame surrounded Kael, casting an eerie glow across the forest floor. Kael didn't understand what was happening—he couldn't control the power—but in that moment, the beast retreated, disappearing into the shadows from where it had come.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, the flame vanished.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the effort. The forest was silent again, but the weight of the encounter pressed down on him like a physical force.
The beast was gone. For now.
But something told Kael that it wasn't over. Not yet.
He wasn't just running anymore. He was being hunted.
And whatever was out there—whatever they were—they weren't going to stop until they found him.