SWOOSH-SWOOSH-SWOOSH
Caspian awoke to the sound of rushing water and the distant call of birds.
His body ached all over, and a sharp pain in his ribs forced him to wince as he sat up.
he realized he was lying on the rocky edge of a wide, shimmering river.
He tried to recall how he had survived the raging waters.
It felt like a blur—his body carried by the current, tossed and turned like a leaf in a storm.
But it hadn't been sheer luck alone.
The river, infused with dense spiritual energy, was unlike any body of water he had known.
The energy thickened the water, increasing its buoyancy, and the icy cold had made the density even greater.
Despite his battered and bruised body, these unusual elements had helped him stay afloat, keeping him from sinking.
(A/N: Buoyancy Force: The upward force exerted by a fluid.)
Still, survival hadn't been without cost.
His lips were cracked, his hands and arms were scraped raw from where they had grazed jagged rocks, and a deep bruise darkened his side.
Hunger gnawed at his stomach, a reminder of how long it had been since his last meal.
He forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily against a nearby tree.
The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, its tall, ancient trees swaying gently in the wind.
His legs trembled with each step, his body weak from exhaustion and injury.
"I need help..." Caspian muttered. But there was no one to answer.
The emptiness of the wilderness was oppressive.
Caspian knew he wouldn't last long without food, shelter, or someone to help him tend his wounds.
Looking back at the river, he felt a mix of awe and dread.
The same waters that had nearly claimed his life had also been his salvation. But they offered no answers, no path forward.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
"UNLEASH," Caspian muttered
Nothing happened.
{It will take time before their soul recovers ,child}
"Oh, fuck!"
With unsteady steps, Caspian began to move along the riverbank, hoping to find signs of civilization—or at least something he could use to survive.
.
"Fuck me," Caspian muttered.
It had been nearly a day since Caspian had been following the riverbank.
The river's constant murmur was his only companion.
He clutched at his ribs, feeling the bruises from his tumble in the water and lupivore fight.
The choice to stay near the river had been a calculated one.
Villages and cities, he knew, were often built along rivers for water, trade, and sustenance.
He had yet to see any signs of civilization, but the logic kept him moving forward.
The fear of losing himself in the endless wilderness was enough to keep his eyes fixed on the flowing water.
"It's good," Caspian muttered to himself, "No monsters so far,"
The faint hope of reaching safety spurred him on.
His injuries, though painful, seemed to be healing faster than they should.
He glanced at the shimmering river beside him.
"Could it be the water?" he wondered aloud.
Caspian looked around at the towering trees and alien flora.
The deeper greens, the faint, glowing veins on the leaves—it was all unlike anything he had seen before.
"Elven lands…" he whispered, realization dawning.
He must have crossed into their territory.
His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of how long it had been since he had eaten.
Just as despair threatened to creep in, his eyes caught sight of something in the distance.
A Village.
Nestled among the trees, a collection of small wooden structures came into view. Smoke rose faintly from chimneys, and the roofs, made of woven reeds and leaves, blended seamlessly with the forest.
Relief flooded Caspian's chest, and a smile broke across his lips.
"I survived," he said softly.
His legs, weak and trembling moments before, suddenly found strength.
Before he realized it, he was running.
His body screamed in protest.
"Huff… huff…" His breath came in ragged gasps as he reached the outskirts of the village.
But something was wrong.
The village was silent. Too silent.
Caspian slowed to a halt, his euphoria replaced by unease.
And then he heard it.
"Aaah!"
A scream pierced the air, sharp and desperate.
"Yes! Kill him!"
The voices were guttural, malicious, and came from somewhere in the middle of the village.
Caspian froze, his pulse quickening.
His earlier joy evaporated, replaced by cold dread.
He crept forward cautiously, keeping to the shadows of the trees that lined the path.
The sounds grew louder—
As Caspian approached the center of the village, he crouched low behind a broken car, his heart pounding in his chest.
His instincts screamed at him to turn back, to run far from whatever lay ahead, but his curiosity overpowered his fear.
As he moved closer to the center, his breath caught in his throat.
There, under the glow of a roaring fire, stood a group of elves, their faces emotionless.
They were gathered around a horrifying sight—a human man, strung up by ropes, his body bruised and battered.
Caspian's stomach churned, and bile rose to his throat.
The sight was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The man's face was pale, his chest heaving weakly as he struggled to breathe.
The elves surrounded him, chanting in a language Caspian couldn't understand, their words sharp and rhythmic.
The flames grew brighter, casting long shadows on the surrounding buildings.
Caspian's knees buckled as he stumbled into the corner of a narrow street, his small figure hidden in the dark.
He wanted to run, to flee this place, but his feet wouldn't move.
He was rooted in place, forced to witness the scene unfold.
The human man, despite his agony, raised his head. His bloodshot eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Caspian.
Their gazes locked.
"No…" Caspian whispered, his body frozen in place.
The man's desperate eyes locked with Caspian's, silently screaming "Save me."
Caspian clenched his fists, every instinct urging him to act, but his rational mind screamed louder.
He was just a boy, injured and powerless, and the crowd of elves was far too many.
His body shook with frustration and helplessness.
I can't take them all on.
The elder elf, draped in ceremonial robes, raised his hands high, his voice booming in an ancient tongue.
The villagers joined in, their chants blending into a chilling chorus.
The man, his strength nearly gone, managed to let out one last, heart-wrenching cry, his voice filled with pain and desperation:
"Help me!"
Caspian's breath hitched, his chest tightening.
I have to do something.
But his legs refused to move.
The overwhelming sight of the villagers, the roaring fire, and the unyielding blade paralyzed him.
As the elder's voice reached its peak, the blade descended.
Caspian turned away, his heart pounding.
He stumbled into the shadows of a nearby alley, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
The man's screams echoed in his mind, sharp and haunting.
"This is the old faction," he whispered bitterly, wiping his face.
"Stuck in their ways, blind to the cruelty they call tradition."
The firelight flickered behind him, casting ominous shadows on the walls as the chants faded into eerie silence.
The weight of his inaction pressed down on him, but he knew—there was no saving the man now.
He forced himself to move, his steps unsteady but deliberate.
I couldn't save him, but I can still survive.
I have to escape.
Caspian stumbled out of the village, his breathing uneven as he leaned against a tree to steady himself.
His mind still reeled from the haunting image of the man pleading for help.
He knew he couldn't walk much longer, so he placed a hand over his core and whispered.
"UNLEASH."
A faint shimmer radiated from his chest as the air around him distorted slightly.
From within his core—a small world that housed the essence of his summoned beasts—a lupivore emerged.
The creature materialized in front of him, its pale fur and sluggish movements a testament to its weakened state.
Despite its condition, the lupivore's gaze was sharp, and it bowed its head slightly, ready to serve.
"Still with me?" Caspian muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
The lupivore crouched low, allowing him to climb onto its back. With a grunt of effort, Caspian settled onto the creature, gripping its thick fur for support.
"Let's go," he said quietly, and the lupivore began to move along the riverbank, its strides steady and purposeful.
After several minutes of tense silence, Bloodmoon spoke again.
{Child, what did you mean back there by 'old faction'?}
Caspian sighed.
"Oh, that. The elven continent is divided into three factions as of now."
"First, there's the Old Faction. They're mostly villagers and elders—traditionalists who believe elven customs are sacred and despise all other races. The people in that village were probably from that group."
Bloodmoon hummed thoughtfully. {I see. And the others?}
"The second faction is the Modern Faction," Caspian explained.
"They're younger elves, mostly city dwellers, who think all races are equal. They want to move away from the old ways and embrace progress."
{And the third?}
"The Neutral Faction," Caspian replied, his voice quieter. "They're in the middle—mostly middle-aged elves who think both sides have valid points but don't want to commit fully to either."
He paused, glancing at the shimmering river beside him.
"If I can reach a city, I might be safe there. They're less likely to harm an outsider or child like me."
{A dangerous gamble, but a necessary one,} Bloodmoon murmured.
Caspian nodded, "I don't have much of a choice. I'll survive—one way or another."
As the faint outline of distant structures appeared on the horizon....
_________
[A/N:
Hey everyone, just a heads up that I might be taking a short break next week. However, I'll try my best to post 3-4 new chapters.
Thanks for your patience and understanding!]