Nitish wiped his bloodied hands on a patch of moss, his stomach settling after the raw, gamey taste of the bird meat he had just consumed. He hadn't expected the creatures to be edible, but necessity had overridden his hesitation. His sharp dagger, crafted from the bird's own claws, had done its job. The crude meal wasn't satisfying, but it gave him enough energy to press on. He tightened the straps of his feather bag, now lighter after the meal, and surveyed the dense, ominous forest of the Abyss.
The faint light from the glowing moss and fungal growths illuminated the towering trees around him. Their trunks were unnaturally twisted, as if warped by the chaotic mana that permeated the Abyss. He ran his fingers over the jagged bark of a tree, his instincts sharpening. Something about the way the trees lined the narrow path ahead felt deliberate, as if they were guiding him somewhere. That's when he saw it—an arrow mark etched into the bark.
The mark was faint, almost obscured by the rough texture of the wood, but Nitish's keen perception caught it. He crouched, tracing the arrow with his finger. It was too precise to be natural, and it pointed further into the depths of the Abyss. His heart quickened. Someone had been here before him. Someone who had left a trail.
Nitish stood, scanning his surroundings carefully. The forest was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves and distant screeches from unseen creatures. He tightened his grip on his makeshift dagger, his senses on high alert as he began to follow the arrow marks. Every step was calculated, his movements slow and deliberate. The Abyss was no place for carelessness.
The next arrow was carved into a tree a few paces ahead. It pointed in the same direction, deeper into the twisted forest. Nitish knelt again, inspecting the mark. The edges were slightly worn, suggesting it had been made some time ago, but not so long that it had faded entirely. Whoever had made these marks must have known the Abyss well—or been desperate to find a way out.
As he moved further, the air grew colder, and the glow of the moss dimmed, casting the forest into deeper shadows. Nitish's mind raced with questions. Who had left these marks? Were they alive, or had they succumbed to the horrors of the Abyss? And if they had survived, where were they now?
He pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on his surroundings. His stealth training kicked in, his steps light and silent. Every twig avoided, every patch of unstable ground bypassed. His father's words came back to him: "In the shadows, you are safest. Learn to move as if you're a part of them."
Nitish's perception sharpened further as he moved. He noted the faint claw marks on tree trunks—signs that more of the bird creatures had passed this way. He saw tracks in the dirt, some resembling hooves, others something unrecognizable, twisted and malformed. His grip on his dagger tightened as he remained vigilant, his ears straining for the slightest sound.
The next arrow was carved higher up on a tree, almost out of reach. Nitish narrowed his eyes, wondering why it had been placed there. He scaled the tree carefully, using the grooves in the bark as footholds, and reached the mark. From his elevated position, he could see further down the path—a faint shimmer of light breaking through the dense foliage. It wasn't the eerie, green glow of the Abyss, but something more natural, like sunlight struggling against an unnatural barrier. His curiosity piqued, he climbed back down and pressed on.
As Nitish approached the shimmering light, the air grew heavier, thick with tension. The trees became less twisted, their trunks straighter, their bark smoother. The path widened slightly, revealing an open clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a crude wooden structure—a small shack, barely standing, its roof caved in and its walls leaning precariously.
Nitish crouched at the edge of the clearing, studying the shack carefully. It looked abandoned, but the presence of the arrow marks suggested otherwise. He stayed low, his instincts urging caution, and crept closer. His footfalls were silent against the damp ground, his breathing steady and controlled.
When he reached the shack, he paused, listening intently. The forest around him was deathly silent, as if even the creatures of the Abyss avoided this place. Nitish circled the structure, keeping his dagger ready. He peered through a crack in the wall and saw nothing but debris and darkness. Satisfied that it was safe, he slipped inside.
The shack smelled of rot and decay, its interior a mess of broken furniture and scattered belongings. Nitish's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, and he began to search. Among the debris, he found remnants of a campfire, long since extinguished. There were scraps of cloth, rusted tools, and what looked like a broken blade. He picked up the blade, examining it carefully. It was made of a strange metal, lighter than anything he had seen before, and etched with unfamiliar symbols. It was useless in its current state, but Nitish tucked it into his bag nonetheless.
He found no food or water, but he did discover a small piece of parchment pinned to the wall. The writing was faded and illegible, but the symbols resembled the arrows he had been following. Nitish felt a flicker of hope. This place had belonged to someone who had navigated the Abyss. If he could follow their trail, he might find a way out—or at least learn more about this cursed place.
As he prepared to leave the shack, a faint rustling outside caught his attention. Nitish froze, his dagger at the ready. The sound grew louder, coming closer. He moved silently to the wall, peering through the crack again. His heart sank as he saw the source of the noise.
Three of the bird-like creatures from before stalked into the clearing, their glowing green eyes scanning the area. Their claws glinted with venom, and their guttural screeches sent chills down Nitish's spine. They moved with an eerie intelligence, sniffing the ground as if tracking something. One of them paused, its head snapping toward the shack.
Nitish's breath hitched. He pressed himself against the wall, his mind racing. He couldn't fight all three at once, not in such close quarters. He needed a plan.
He waited, his body tense, as the creatures approached the shack. Their claws clicked against the wooden steps as they climbed onto the porch. Nitish gripped his dagger tightly, ready to strike if they came through the door. But before they could enter, a distant roar echoed through the forest. The birds froze, their heads snapping toward the sound. They exchanged guttural screeches, then leapt off the porch, disappearing into the trees.
Nitish exhaled slowly, his body sagging with relief. He didn't know what had scared the creatures away, but he wasn't about to stick around to find out. He slipped out of the shack, keeping low, and moved quickly back toward the path with the arrow marks.
His pace quickened as he followed the trail, his heart pounding. The arrows became more frequent, guiding him deeper into the Abyss. Each step brought him closer to whatever destination lay at the end of the trail, and though fear gnawed at the edges of his mind, he pressed on.
The Abyss was a place designed to break the weak, to crush the spirit of anyone who entered. But Nitish wasn't weak. He wasn't broken. Not yet. He would survive, no matter what this cursed place threw at him. And when he did, when he climbed out of the Abyss and returned to the surface, he would make sure the people who had cast him here paid for every moment of suffering.
With vengeance burning in his heart, Nitish disappeared into the shadows, following the path that would lead him closer to his destiny.