Nitish staggered backward, his breathing labored as he wiped the blood from his makeshift dagger. The bodies of the bird-like creatures he had fought lay around him, their twisted forms still twitching in death. His arm ached from a deep gash, and his legs trembled beneath him, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins kept him upright. His senses, sharpened to an almost unnatural degree, felt heightened beyond what he thought possible. Every sound, every shift of the air, was amplified. Even the faintest scents reached him now—the earthy aroma of moss, the metallic tang of blood, and something faint and sweet carried on the heavy air.
Nitish inhaled deeply, turning his head toward the source of the scent. It was faint but unmistakable: herbs. The realization sparked a glimmer of hope. If he could find the herbs, he might be able to craft antidotes or elixirs to treat his wounds and stave off infection. Gritting his teeth, he sheathed his dagger and began to move.
Each step felt heavier as the rush of adrenaline began to fade, replaced by the dull throb of pain from his injuries. Still, he pushed forward, following the scent as it grew stronger. The path was uneven, littered with jagged stones and patches of glowing moss that illuminated his way. Soon, he came upon a clearing, and there, nestled among the rocks, were clusters of herbs.
Nitish knelt beside the plants, his hands trembling as he inspected them. His father's teachings had instilled in him an extensive knowledge of flora, and though the plants of the Abyss were unfamiliar, their similarities to surface herbs were unmistakable. He identified leaves with jagged edges that exuded a faintly bitter scent—likely useful for slowing bleeding. Another herb, with delicate purple flowers, had an aroma reminiscent of surface sedatives. There were others too, their properties unknown, but Nitish decided he couldn't afford to be choosy.
He worked quickly, crushing the herbs between two flat rocks to extract their juices. Using strips of cloth torn from his tunic, he fashioned rudimentary poultices and bound them to his wounds. The relief was immediate, the herbs dulling the pain and slowing the bleeding.
As he finished tending to himself, Nitish noticed something strange about the clearing. Scattered across the ground were skeletons, their bones bleached white and glinting faintly in the dim light. There were at least twenty, perhaps thirty, strewn haphazardly around the area. He crouched low, examining them more closely. They weren't human. The shapes of the skulls and the elongated limbs suggested something else entirely—creatures of the Abyss, though he couldn't discern what kind.
Nitish's instincts screamed danger. Where there were bones, there was likely a predator. His heightened senses caught a faint crunching sound, like bone grinding against bone. He turned his head sharply and froze.
Near the edge of the clearing, a creature sat hunched over a pile of bones. It resembled a frog, but its appearance was grotesque—its mottled green skin stretched taut over its bloated frame, and its mouth was far too wide, lined with jagged teeth. The creature gnawed on a bone, biting clean through it before spitting out a viscous, dark liquid that pooled on the ground. The sight sent a chill down Nitish's spine.
He crouched low, his movements slow and deliberate as he backed away. His heart pounded in his chest as he calculated his next move. The creature hadn't noticed him yet, but one wrong step could change that. Nitish took another cautious step, his foot pressing against the ground—and snapped a twig.
The sound echoed like a gunshot in the oppressive silence. The frog-like creature froze, its head snapping toward him. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Nitish, and he felt the blood drain from his face. Slowly, the creature began to rise, its small, compact frame growing and stretching. Within seconds, it towered over him, now ten times its original size. Its wide mouth opened, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Nitish couldn't move. His body was frozen, his mind caught between fight and flight. The creature's tongue shot out, lightning-fast, and licked his arm. The sensation was strange—wet and warm, but not painful. Nitish braced himself, expecting venom to course through his veins, but nothing happened. The creature didn't attack. Instead, it stood still, staring at him with unblinking eyes.
Minutes passed in a tense standoff. Nitish's breathing was shallow, his mind racing as he tried to understand what was happening. The frog-like creature tilted its head, studying him. Then, slowly, its massive frame began to shrink. Within moments, it had returned to its original size, no larger than a common frog. It let out a low croak and began hopping around, seemingly agitated.
Nitish stared in disbelief as the creature jumped toward him, circling him excitedly. It leapt onto his shoulder, its weight barely noticeable, and began licking his cheek. The affectionate gesture caught Nitish off guard, and he instinctively reached up to brush the creature away, but it clung to him stubbornly.
"What… what are you doing?" he muttered, more to himself than to the creature.
The frog let out another croak, this one softer, almost playful. It jumped down from his shoulder and hopped toward the pile of bones, pausing to look back at him. Nitish hesitated, his grip tightening on his dagger. The creature seemed to want him to follow, but he couldn't ignore the danger. The bones were a grim reminder of what this place could do.
The frog croaked again, hopping in place as if impatient. Against his better judgment, Nitish followed. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes scanning the clearing for any signs of a trap. When they reached the pile of bones, the frog began digging through them with surprising precision. It spat out a dark liquid onto one of the bones, dissolving the flesh still clinging to it.
Nitish watched, intrigued and wary. The frog seemed intent on something, and soon it unearthed a small object—a shard of metal, tarnished and worn but clearly crafted. The frog nudged the shard toward Nitish with its head, croaking softly.
Nitish knelt, picking up the shard. It was heavier than it looked, its edges sharp and uneven. He examined it closely, noting the faint etchings that lined its surface. They were similar to the symbols he had seen on the broken blade in the shack earlier. This shard was part of something larger, something important.
"What are you trying to show me?" Nitish muttered, glancing at the frog. It responded with a happy croak, hopping back onto his shoulder and licking his ear.
Nitish shook his head, his confusion mounting. The Abyss was full of horrors, but this strange creature seemed different. It had spared him, helped him even. Was it an ally? A guide? Or was this just another trick of the Abyss, lulling him into a false sense of security?
He sighed, tucking the shard into his feather bag. For now, he had no choice but to trust the creature. It had pointed him toward something valuable, and perhaps it could lead him to more. But he wouldn't let his guard down. Not here. Not ever.
As Nitish turned to leave the clearing, the frog croaked again, its tone almost urgent. It leapt from his shoulder and hopped toward the far edge of the clearing, pausing to look back at him. Nitish followed, his dagger at the ready, as the creature led him deeper into the Abyss.