The moon loomed high in the night sky. Its silver glow shined through the endless skeletal branches of the forest. A sharp wind howled, carrying with it the faint scent of blood.
From a circular clearing among the trees, Urath emerged. Thought beautiful to the eye, his chest heaving and bleeding down his temple. Behind him, the remnants of his once-proud group also staggered into view, their breaths gasping and frantic.
The acrid stench of iron hung thick in the air around them, a cruel reminder of the slaughter they had just narrowly survived.
"Hold it!" Urath ordered, turning to his men. "Rest here. Five minutes."
Echos of affirmation replied as the men dropped where they stood, their bodies trembling as if the earth beneath them had given way. Their panted breaths were ragged, uneven, and mixed with the mournful rustle of the wind.
Urath could feel the crushing weight of their failure bearing down on his men, a suffocating force that seemed to leech the strength from their bodies. Shoulders sagged, and their once-proud forms now seemed frail and brittle.
Some clutched at their sides, breaths shallow and strained, while others wiped sweat and grime from their brows with trembling hands.
A few stared blankly into the surrounding darkness, their eyes hollow, haunted by what they had seen. The once-unshakable confidence of his pack now seemed more like neutered dogs, their resolve eroded by the ceaseless pursuit of those bastards.
Urath ran a hand through his damp, matted hair, the strands sticking to his skin as frustration gnawed at him. His jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching as the number seared itself into his mind.
Twenty-three. He had counted. The number stabbed at him like a jagged blade, twisting deeper with every frustration. Less than half of his men remained. Damn it.
His hand dropped to his side, clenching into a fist. The urge to punch something, anything, flared within him, but he pushed it down.
Anger wouldn't fix this. Not now.
Urath turned away, unwilling to let his men see the doubts that lingered in his crimson gaze. He kept his eyes on the darkness, scanning the treeline as though answers might emerge from the shadows. But the truth gnawed at him. Nothing had gone right since they moved. Every decision, every step, had only driven them closer to ruin.
This move was a mistake.
"Lord Urath?"
The voice was soft, trembling, yet familiar. It drew him back from his grim musings. Kelesh, his most loyal follower, approached cautiously, his presence a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.
In the moonlight, Kelesh's features seemed almost otherworldly, his lilac eyes shimmering with uncertainty. His golden hair, once immaculate, now hung limp, streaked with dirt and sweat.
Even now, in this battered state, he carried an elegance that set him apart.
Urath's gaze softened as he took in the sight. The ace beauty of my group, reduced to this. Terrible.
It twisted something in his chest, a pang of grievance - not at his follower, but at the circumstances that had brought them here.
"What is it, Kelesh?" Urath asked, his voice quieter now, though the underlying tension remained.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, my Lord," Kelesh began, his tone faltering like a fragile thread about to snap. He hesitated for a few seconds, his lilac eyes darting anywhere except Urath's eyes. An action so uncharacteristic of him. "But… do you think we're safe now?"
The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that surrounded them.
Urath studied him for a moment, noting the way Kelesh's hands fidgeted at his sides, betraying the fear he tried so hard to mask. Urath's eyes narrowed. "Do you?"
Kelesh swallowed hard, his gaze flickering away. He seemed to search the darkness of the forest as though it might provide him with an answer. But there was nothing there - only the oppressive stillness that amplified every rustle and distant sound.
"I… I don't know. We ran so far, but we barely escaped - and at the price of leaving some brothers to… die." Kelesh hesitated, his voice faltering. It bled into his words, into the guilt etched onto his face by exhaustion and worry.
The silence between them grew suffocating, pressing down on both like a physical weight. Urath sighed, the sound heavy with resignation, and stepped closer.
He rested a firm hand on Kelesh's shoulder.
"Do not dwell on such anxieties, Kelesh," he said, his voice softening, almost fatherly. For a moment, his crimson eyes held a flicker of reassurance. "It was my order, my responsibility."
Kelesh's finally met Urath's. "My Lord, I'm sorry I was not insinu-"
"I know you weren't," Urath sighed. "But we cannot dwell in hindsight. Rest now, regain your strength, and when we return to the city, we'll rebuild what we've lost. We'll recover our numbers and strike back harder than before. Then those bastards will be the ones running."
Kelesh's lips trembled, but a faint smile broke through, a fragile light in the oppressive gloom. "Yes, Lord Urath! And afterward… we'll finally resume our work? Our real work, right?"
Urath's grin sharpened, his teeth glinting in the dim light at Kelesh's enthusiasm. It wasn't a reassuring smile - it was proud, fierce, and brimming with promise.
"Of course," he said, his voice low but resolute. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
This was the reason why the blond boy was his favorite.
While others in his group loved what they did for the thrill, they always voiced how unchallenging it was.
Kelesh was different. He truly appreciated the craft, mastering the art with the same sensation Urath felt when he began.
He could see it. Kelesh was the only one who understood the difference between passion and enjoyment.
Kelesh nodded eagerly, relief flooding his features. For a brief moment, his fear seemed to recede, replaced by the spark of hope Urath had given him.
He straightened slightly, the weight on his shoulders easing just a little.
"I knew it," Kelesh murmured, his voice trembling with hope. "I knew you would see us through, My Lord! I knew we'd make it through thi-"
A wet, guttural sound tore through the air, cutting Kelesh off mid-sentence after a sickening crunch/
Urath's eyes blinked as something warm and wet splattered across his face. He wiped it away and looked down at his hands.
It was blood.
His instincts kicked in too late as he glanced back up.
His eyes widened.
Kelesh's sentence hung unfinished, suspended like his body in a cruel irony. Urath took a step back as his sights lowered to the blond's chest.
A massive, thick vine protruded through his back, with the tip writhing out the other end. It jerked Kelesh's body violently.
His lilac eyes, once shimmering with nervous, hopeful energy, now pulsed with shock and pain as he screamed.
The vine twirled once again; blood gushed in dark rivulets, staining Kelesh's golden hair as it splattered over his face and around the grass.
The young man continued to gasp, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as his hand reached out toward Urath.
His fingers trembled, inches away, but Urath could see the light in his eyes was fading fast.
"L-Lord… Urath… h-help… me-" he choked, the words fragile, barely audible.
The vine wrenched him backward with a grotesque squelch, his body going limp as his hand fell lifelessly to his side.
He was gone. Kelesh was gone.
Urath stood frozen, staring at the lifeless form of his most loyal follower as the vine retracted into the ground. The warmth of his follower's blood still clung to his face, and for a moment, the clearing seemed to shrink around him.
The sounds of the forest dulled, replaced by the pounding of his heart.
"Kelesh…" His voice was a whisper, raw and raspy before it erupted into a desperate roar that shook the air. "Kelesh!"
The world snapped back into focus as panic ignited like dry tinder among his remaining men, their frantic cries breaking the suffocating stillness.
But Urath could only watch, his teeth grinding and his fists trembling, as the blood-soaked ground seemed to mock his every failure.
Around him, his men scrambled to their feet, their panic reigniting like a spark in dry tinder.
"What the hell was that?!" one follower shouted, his voice cracking as he stumbled back, clutching at his sword with trembling hands.
"They've found us!" another wailed, his wide eyes darting around the forest, panic twisting his face.
"By the Old Ones, we're doomed!" cried a third, his breath hitching in frantic, uneven gasps.
Urath stood paralyzed, his crimson eyes locked on Kelesh's lifeless body as a maelstrom of emotions churned within him. Shock rippled through his veins, freezing him in place as the blond's final, trembling plea echoed in his ears.
Guilt followed swiftly, gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast.
I should have been faster. I should have done something.
His mind screamed accusations he couldn't silence, each one cutting deeper than the last.
Then came the anger - a wildfire blazing through his chest, consuming the guilt and fanning the embers of his fury into an inferno.