The climb had drained them. By the time they reached the vantage point, the last of the sun's light was slipping below the horizon, draping the jungle below in a golden haze.
Their bodies were wrung dry, their breaths shallow and labored. The climb had taken a large toll on them, their throats dry and stomachs empty. Yet as Gaius stood at the mountain's edge, hands resting on his thighs, he could not deny the grim satisfaction that came with the sight before him.
Endless jungle stretched out in every direction, an unbroken sea of green, thick and suffocating. It rolled like a great, living thing, restless and untamed. Even from this height, it was impossible to see where it ended. The canopy shuddered and twisted as unseen creatures moved beneath its surface, a reminder that there was no safety in the world below.
But what drew Gaius' gaze most were the shapes that glided through the distant sky. Not the winged horrors they had encountered before—no, these were different. Larger. Stranger. Their wings spanned wide as they dove into the jungle with practiced efficiency, vanishing into the trees before emerging again moments later with something writhing in their grasp. Predators, hunting.
He had seen them before. Not in flesh, but in paint—once, in the grand halls of a master he had served, a mural depicting monstrous, reptilian things locked in an eternal hunt. It had been the kind of thing the scholars whispered about, stories of beasts lost to time. He had dismissed it then, another fancy of the learned men who had never seen true war. But now…
He grunted, rubbing his forearm over the sweat on his brow. "Darin," he called over his shoulder. The younger man looked up from where he sat, catching his breath. "You recognize those?"
Darin followed his gaze, squinting into the distance. "No," he said after a beat. "But I don't like the way they move."
"Nothing here moves the way it should," Aera muttered. She was a little ways ahead, already scanning for the next move. "There," she pointed downward, toward a thin, silver vein slicing through the jungle. A river.
Gaius narrowed his eyes. It was hard to tell how deep it ran, but it was fresh water. A necessity. But they wouldn't reach it tonight. The mountain path was treacherous enough in the daylight. Attempting to descend in the dark would be suicide.
"We camp here," he said, the decision final. "We move at dawn."
No one argued.
They found a shallow alcove in the rock, a natural indent that provided some shelter from the wind. The cold settled in quickly, replacing the day's suffocating heat, but none of them had the strength to complain.
Tyus took the first watch.
The night dragged on, quiet save for the constant murmur of the jungle below. The moonlight was thin but enough to cast the land in a dull, spectral glow. Gaius drifted in and out of half-sleep, his body too exhausted for full rest but his instincts too sharp to allow complete oblivion.
It was sometime past midnight when Tyus heard it.
A sound—not from the jungle, not from the wind. From above.
A steady, scraping movement, slow and deliberate. Rock against rock. Tyus tensed, fingers tightening around the crude club he had fashioned. He turned his head upward, eyes scanning the cliffside looming over them.
Then he saw it.
A shape, clinging to the rock face like a monstrous lizard.
It was massive, limbs spread wide as it moved downward with unnatural grace. Its skin, pale and glistening in the moonlight, was stretched too tight over its elongated frame. Its head—if it could be called that—was flat, featureless save for a gaping maw lined with jagged, irregular teeth.
Tyus' breath hitched.
He didn't hesitate.
"Up!" His voice was a harsh whisper, urgent and sharp. "Move, now!"
The others were up instantly, the weight of exhaustion forgotten in the face of immediate danger. Aera's eyes widened as she gazed upon it.
"We can't fight that," she hissed.
Gaius was already moving. "We take the way we came."
They didn't waste time.
The descent was treacherous, the very ground conspiring against them. Loose stones gave way beneath their feet, sending them skidding dangerously toward the sheer drop below. Aera took the lead, moving quickly but cautiously. Gaius followed close behind, his battered body struggling to keep up. Tyus and Darin flanked him, keeping him steady when he faltered.
But the old man—Joran—wasn't fast enough.
He stumbled, gasping as he tried to keep pace. The thing above them was moving faster now, its grotesque limbs pulling it downward in great, lurching strides.
Gaius turned, saw the horror unfolding. "Joran, move!"
The old man gritted his teeth, pushing himself forward, but it was too late.
The creature dropped.
Tyus moved without thinking.
He lunged back, swinging his club with everything he had. The blow landed square against the creature's side, and the sound akin to wood breaking was heard. Tyrus stood there with a splintered wood in hand. His face distant as he stared at it. "Wha.."
The beast twisted unnaturally, its head snapping toward Tyus with terrifying speed. Then it struck.
Tyus barely had time to scream.
It tore into him with a sickening crunch, massive jaws clamping down over his shoulder and chest. The sound of splitting bone and shredded flesh filled the night. Blood sprayed in an arc, black in the moonlight.
The others could only watch in horror as Tyus was lifted off his feet, his body convulsing as the creature ripped into him. His face contorted in agony, but the scream never came. The life had already left his eyes.
Then, with one final snap, the beast severed him in two.
Silence.
Aera was the first to move. "Run!"
No hesitation.
Joran, despite his age, moved faster than Gaius had ever seen. Darin was a step ahead, eyes wide with terror. Gaius forced his body to move as well.
Tyus was dead.
And that thing was still hungry.
They bolted down the path, the jungle below an abyss waiting to swallow them whole. The creature did not chase immediately—it was still feeding. But it wouldn't take long before it wanted more.
Gaius clenched his teeth.
Tyus had bought them seconds. That was all.
And it would not be enough.
The night pressed in around them, thick and suffocating, the cold air clinging to their sweat-drenched skin. Their chests heaved, their bodies trembling from exertion, but they couldn't stop—not yet.
Gaius' muscles screamed, his wounds burning with every motion, but he pushed forward. The steep descent had slowed them, every step treacherous, and the old man was barely keeping pace. The others kept their movements quiet, save for their ragged breaths, each of them straining to listen for the thing that pursued them.
Then came the sound.
A heavy thud against the stone above.
Joran faltered, barely stifling a wheeze. Aera froze mid-step, one hand tightening on the crude knife at her hip. Darin shot a glance back, eyes wide.
It was still coming.
They could see only glimpses, a vague shadow shifting against the moonlit rock. A hulking, unnatural form moving with quick, deliberate force.
Gaius swallowed down his exhaustion. "Keep moving."
The words barely left his lips before another sound came, this one different. A deep, guttural rumble.
Not from behind them.
From above.
A new silhouette stirred in the darkness, barely distinguishable against the jagged cliffs. The shape was long, its body winding unnaturally along the rock face, its bulk shifting in the moonlight. A pale ridge of something—spines, perhaps—glinted faintly as it coiled its massive form.
Then it dropped.
The first creature - the salamander like beast - let out a shrieking hiss just before impact.
A deafening crash shook the mountain.
The group staggered as the rock trembled beneath them. Stones dislodged, tumbling down the slope. The darkness itself seemed to shift, bodies crashing against each other in a blur of movement, claws raking against stone, guttural hisses splitting the silence.
They could barely see what was happening. Only flashes of motion in the moonlight—an enormous limb striking out, a serpentine form twisting around its prey. Heavy, wet sounds of flesh tearing, of stone cracking under the weight of two monstrous bodies locked in battle.
They didn't stand idle, moving as fast as their bodies could take them they descended the steep mountain, thankful to whatever creature intervened.
The battle behind them raged on, but Gaius could hear it shifting—hear the gurgling wheeze of something breaking, the heavy, uneven thrash of limbs losing their strength.
The second beast—the serpent like creature—was probably winning.
Joran was stumbling forward again, barely keeping pace, and Darin had him by the arm, half-hauling him down the mountainside.
The ground beneath them trembled one last time as something collapsed in the darkness.
Then, silence.
Not true silence—the jungle below still whispered with unseen creatures, the distant hum of life never truly ceasing. But up here, along the cragged edge of the mountain, the immediate threat had faded.
They did not stop until their bodies gave out.
Only then did they collapse against the rocks, their minds reeling.
Joran was barely conscious, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. Aera pressed a hand against her ribs, breathing heavily. Darin sat with his back against the cold stone, staring up at the sky as though struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
Gaius exhaled, rolling his shoulders, ignoring the protests of pain. Though he wasn't well acquainted with Tyus he saw the loss of a member not boding well for them. His body was still screaming for rest, wounds that needed mending, his muscles raw, but he was alive.
Tyus wasn't.
And the weight of that settled over the others like the darkness itself, though having known him for less than a day, his death seemed symbolic, as if reality plunged itself back into them, this was not a place you could sleep peacefully, nor a place for the weak.
No one spoke.
They had survived.
But barely.