Page 102 of Andreas

In the corner of his eye, something streaked silver. Turning his head back to the male, Rymedur halted in his tracks.

He had gone.

He hadn’t heard a sound. Hadn’t felt a shift in the air. But, as his eyes darted around, he confirmed the once deceased male was no longer there, not a trace left. As though he had never existed.

The rustling of clothes turned his attention back to the male lying on the forest floor. Groaning in discomfort, the larger male came around, blinking rapidly as he caught his bearings. Rasping for breath, he stumbled to his feet. In a death-like grip, he yanked the girl’s arm until he was snarling in her face, spittle flew but no sound came. His fingernails digging into her flesh, drawing small droplets of blood, the male wordlessly gestured to the empty space around them.

Rymedur felt the harsh actions strike at his core, sending the girl involuntarily flinching away. She was…afraid? Who was this male to her?

Before either of them could say a word, a croaking and broken howl—more like a throaty screech—ricocheted through the forest. Crash! Then, the beat of paws—hitting the earth, barrelling in their direction.

Something was coming, and fast. Swearing under his breath, the male hurriedly pulled the girl towards the trees. Where before, the sun had beamed through the trees, only thick, impenetrable darkness remained.

The shadows that still held Rymedur in place finally relented their hold, seeming to lift him from the ground until he hovered. Jerking his body forward, he tried to turn back. There was no wind, no breeze, as they dragged him after the faceless figures so he could witness whatever was about to unfold.

Rymedur didn’t have to wonder why they were running for long, because the forest came to life. The sound of their boots hitting the ground was soon drowned out by the forest's wild noises.

Birds crowed, sharp and loud. Beasts snarled, their talons rattling—almost like steel striking stone—as they clanged against the ground. The beasts of the forest seemed to follow.

No. Not follow… Chase. They were being hunted.

With newfound strength, the figures bolted. Adrenaline rushed through Rymedur as he watched. They were so close to the edge of the forest—seconds from freedom.

The irony struck him like a dagger. Moments ago, the girl had undoubtedly been running towards the edge, away from the larger male. Now, she ran away from an entirely new threat alongside him.

As they reached the forest’s edge, Rymedur watched as the male leapt over the tree line, his grip still strong around the girl’s arm, jerking her forward—but too late.

Rymedur felt the strike like it was upon his own back. Sharp talons slashed her spine. The girl yelled out in agony. Had it not been for the male’s unforgiving hold, she would have become the beast’s meal. The male pulled her into his arms as his back crashed into the ground, cushioning their fall as he cradled her to his chest. His breaths were choppy as he patted her down, clinging her close as he hurriedly used his legs to push them further away from the treeline—away from the snarling beasts.

The shadows no longer held him in a fixed position.

Looking over his shoulder, Rymedur could have sworn the beasts smiled. Lipless, with razor-sharp teeth, they were unlike anything he had ever seen before; as dark as the shadows that bound him, wisps of smoke swirled in all directions as they prowled along the edge of the treeline, eyes like dripping blood, hungry. Yet there was some form of wild intelligence as they shied away from the scorching light beyond the forest.

They hissed and gnashed at the faceless figures as they lay in a heap on the floor, and only then did Rymedur register how the male’s breath shuddered, the way he held the girl as though he was terrified he had already lost her. Who was he to her?

A part of Rymedur wanted to save her, but the shadows that had caged him yanked his mind back. He was tearing again. Searing. Every nerve ending lit with fire as his mind was thrown back into his own body. Trying to lunge forward, Rymedur grappled for the injured girl, but the shadows were stronger. They pried his grip away and pinned him down, encasing his body until he was nothing more than cold, frigid darkness. It was drowning him. Pulling him under its thick, heavy weight.

The shadows were sluggish. Creeping up his legs. Dragging him to the floor. He was sinking. The ground was swallowing him whole.

Rymedur tugged and twisted, but the shadows only moved faster, inching up. Up. Up. Up, until all his skin was coated in the darkness—oily and as thick as tar. Paralysed, Rymedur could only stare as the scene fractured, shattering like broken glass. Guilt and pain were like daggers striking his heart. He could not help her, just as he had not helped his son.

Crumbling, the scene vanished as if it had never been there at all. Only the voice, the disembodied raspy whisper, told him it had been real. ‘You saw how she disrupted the delicate balance,’ it hissed in warning. ‘She took what didn’t belong to her and the others bared witness. Forces are stirring in the North. The world will collapse if she is not stopped. The balance of life and death should not be tampered with, and yet, the thing continues to live. Find the truth, my shadow. Go north. Stop her before it’s too late.’

There was a solid weight in his hands. The darkness unveiled a single dagger—small, black, plain, yet it pulsed the same way as Rymedur’s scythe. Like it was alive. Like it was… other.

Rymedur’s eyes snapped open to meet electric blue. The sky was cobalt, lined with worry—

No, not the sky.

‘Rymedur.’ Worry lined Areanel’s exhausted eyes as she leaned over him. Her hand—much smaller than his own—laid flat against his bicep, the other cupped his cheek. ‘You were shouting in your sleep.’

‘Is everything alright?’ a gruff voice sounded from behind her.

Areanel glanced over her shoulder before turning back to him.

‘Fine,’ Rymedur answered before she could, but the way his chest expanded to gulp down breaths, and the gallop of his heartbeat had surely given away his terror. It was just a nightmare. A dream. Nothing more.

Elbows digging into the hard ground below, Rymedur pushed himself up and curled a leg under himself. Dragging a hand down his face, he huffed out a breath that fogged the air in front of him. Winter was coming fast.