The sky above was a heavy grey, thick with clouds that seemed to press down on the world beneath them. The wind howled through the trees, bending them to its will as if the forest itself were alive, aware, and displeased. Kael crouched low, his body tense as he scanned the horizon. His pulse was steady, but beneath that calm exterior, his mind raced. The wilds were changing again, shifting with an unsettling energy, as though they, too, were watching him.
A rustle behind him snapped his attention back to the present. The wanderer had taken up a position on the far side of the narrow ridge, their dark silhouette almost blending into the backdrop of the forest. Despite their silent movements, Kael could sense the tension in the air, the same tension that clung to his own muscles, tightening them with every passing moment.
"They're close," Kael said, his voice a low murmur.
The wanderer didn't respond immediately. Instead, they tilted their head slightly, listening. The forest was eerily quiet now—no birds, no wind, no rustling of leaves. Just silence, broken only by the distant, ominous growls of the creatures that stalked them.
"They know we're here," the wanderer finally said, their voice devoid of fear, but tinged with an unspoken understanding. "And they'll wait until we make the first move."
Kael's gaze shifted toward the edge of the forest, where the trees grew thick and the shadows stretched long across the earth. It was impossible to see what lay beyond the canopy, but he could feel the eyes of the beasts watching him—studying him. It was like they were waiting for him to make a mistake, to reveal his weakness.
His grip tightened on his spear, the weapon feeling like an extension of his own will. It had been with him through every trial, every fight, and yet now, in the heart of the wilds, it felt strangely inadequate. He wasn't sure if it was the creatures that terrified him, or the power that had been growing inside him—growing stronger, more insistent.
"Stay alert," the wanderer said, snapping him from his thoughts. "We can't afford to let our guard down."
Kael nodded, pushing the unsettling feeling aside. The wilds were alive with danger—he had known that from the moment he had crossed into this unforgiving land. But now, the stakes had changed. It wasn't just survival anymore. He wasn't just running from beasts and predators. He was running from himself.
The craving for the wilds' power was a constant whisper in his mind. It had been there since the mutation, the dark gift—or curse—that had tethered him to the very forces he sought to control. Every day, it was a battle: his own will against the endless hunger for more, for the strength to match the creatures that hunted him. He had resisted before, but how long could he last?
A growl broke the silence.
It was close.
Too close.
Kael spun, his spear raised. The wanderer's eyes widened as they drew their dagger, moving toward Kael's side.
"It's not alone," the wanderer hissed, scanning the darkness.
A shape lunged from the trees, moving faster than Kael could track. He barely had time to react before the creature collided with him, its claws raking across his chest, tearing through the fabric of his cloak and biting into his skin. Pain exploded in his ribs, but Kael didn't falter. With a growl of his own, he brought his spear down into the creature's side, feeling the resistance as the blade scraped through bone.
The beast howled, its claws retracting just long enough for Kael to twist the spear and yank it free. Blood spilled from the wound, but the creature wasn't done. It staggered back, its glowing eyes narrowing, its mouth stretching into a twisted, predatory grin.
It was no ordinary beast.
Kael's breath caught in his throat as he recognized it—one of the mutated creatures that had plagued the wilds. It was different from the others; its body was a grotesque hybrid, part beast, part something else. The skin was slick and pulsing, veins black and red beneath its surface. Its claws were too long, too sharp, and its movements were unnervingly precise. This was no wild animal. This was something born of the dark power that had been growing in the wilds, and it was far more dangerous than anything Kael had faced before.
Before Kael could react, the beast lunged again, its claws aimed straight for his throat. The force of the attack sent him stumbling backward, just barely avoiding the deadly swipe. His spear whistled through the air, narrowly missing the beast as it twisted out of the way, its movements too fast for Kael to predict.
The wanderer moved swiftly, their dagger flashing as they aimed for the creature's exposed flank. But the beast was quicker. It swung a massive paw, knocking the wanderer off balance and sending them crashing into the trees with a sickening crack.
"No!" Kael roared, his body surging with adrenaline. Without thinking, he sprinted toward the creature, his spear raised high. The beast's head turned in his direction, its eyes glinting with malicious intent.
In that moment, Kael felt something snap inside him—an instinctual surge of power, like a wave crashing through him. The craving. It was stronger now, louder, almost overwhelming. His body tingled with the wilds' power, and he felt the surge of energy coursing through his veins. The creature before him was no longer just an enemy. It was an obstacle to his survival, a challenge to his power.
Fight. The voice in his mind urged him.
With a snarl, Kael thrust his spear forward with a force he had never felt before. The weapon tore through the creature's side, carving through the thick muscle and sinew. The beast howled in agony, but Kael didn't stop. He twisted the spear deeper, pushing with every ounce of strength he had left. His body burned with the effort, the wilds' power clawing at him as he pushed himself further.
Finally, with a wet, sickening sound, the spear drove into the creature's heart. It crumpled, its body collapsing to the ground in a heap.
Kael stood over the creature's body, chest heaving, blood dripping from his hands and arms. The power that had surged through him faded, leaving him with a strange sense of emptiness. The craving was still there, gnawing at the edges of his mind, but now it felt distant—distant, but persistent.
The wanderer groaned from the ground, slowly pushing themselves upright. They winced, their hand clutching their ribs. "That was... close," they muttered, shaking their head.
Kael didn't respond. He was still staring at the lifeless form of the beast before him. He had won, yes, but it hadn't been a victory. It had been a battle—a battle that had left him feeling like he had crossed a line.
The craving had been more than a temptation. It had been a call.
He had answered it.
And in doing so, he had lost something.
The wilds had taken more from him than he was willing to admit. The power, the strength—it had come at a cost. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold onto his humanity, let alone his sanity. The wilds were claiming him piece by piece, and he didn't know how much of himself he had left to give.
"You okay?" the wanderer asked, their voice soft but laced with concern.
Kael blinked, slowly turning his gaze back to them. He nodded, though the weight in his chest told him that he wasn't. He wasn't okay. Not by a long shot.
"We need to keep moving," he said, his voice hoarse. He turned away from the creature's body and began to walk, though his steps were heavy, weighed down by the burden he carried.
The wanderer followed, their expression unreadable. Neither of them spoke as they moved through the forest, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable. They both knew that they weren't out of danger yet—that the beasts were still out there, watching, waiting for their next move. But Kael couldn't shake the feeling that the true danger wasn't just the creatures of the wilds.
It was the wilds themselves.