The forest deepened as Nathan and Theo left the cabin behind, following a narrow trail marked faintly on Elias's map. The trees here were older, their trunks wide and bark split with age,
Theo walked ahead, humming quietly. It wasn't a tune Nathan recognized, but it was oddly steadying. Like a thread through the woods.
"You always hum when we're walking toward danger?" Nathan asked, voice low.
Theo grinned over his shoulder. "Only when I'm nervous. Which is always."
Nathan kept one hand near the hilt of his dagger. He'd left Nova sealed. He couldn't use threadstone, either. Just instinct and steel. For now.
After an hour, the trail gave way to a rocky incline. Cracked earth sloped up toward a jagged ridge, where the trees thinned and the soil looked freshly torn. A few broken carts lay discarded near the slope's edge, half-buried in dust and moss. One wheel still spun slowly in the wind.
Nathan knelt beside a deep footprint—twice the size of his boot, pressed inches into the ground.
"Not Scarspawn," he muttered. "Shape's wrong. But weight… this thing's massive."
Theo crouched beside him. "No corruption marks. No rot, no black residue. But you feel that?"
Nathan did. A dull thrum under the earth. Not constant. Like something breathing, far below.
"Let's not be here when it wakes up," Theo said.
They scaled the ridge carefully. At the top, the land plateaued into a cracked clearing where massive boulders had been split and tossed like toys. Trees were uprooted, some scorched. The scent of ozone lingered.
Nathan's hand twitched toward Nova.
And then—movement.
From the far end of the clearing, something shifted behind the broken rocks. A low rumble. Then a figure emerged—not the beast they expected, but a person.
She wore torn traveling leathers, her left arm wrapped in a makeshift sling. Dirt streaked her face, and her eyes were wild with panic. She stumbled toward them, nearly collapsing before Theo caught her.
"Easy," he said. "What happened?"
"Dead…" she gasped. "They're all dead. I ran. I—" She looked up at Nathan, and her voice broke. "It's still here."
Nathan barely had time to register her words before the air shifted again—this time louder, closer. A pressure built in his ears, like a storm held just out of reach.
Then the rocks behind them moved.
No—not rocks.
Scales.
A massive creature began to rise, silent and coiled, its hide the color of the mountain itself. Bipedal, hunched forward, with arms like blades and no visible eyes—only a gaping maw split horizontally across its head.
Nathan swore.
They bolted.
The woman clung to Theo, and Theo to the map. Nathan ran behind, the creature's steps shaking the ground with each impact. It didn't roar. It didn't scream. It just moved—relentless, silent, methodical.
Down the ridge. Through the trees. Branches snapped. Birds scattered.
Nathan could feel it gaining.
"Split left!" Theo shouted, veering into a narrow crevice between rocks.
Nathan followed, barely squeezing through. The creature tried to follow—then stopped. Too large. It let out a low, shuddering hiss that vibrated the trees.
They didn't stop until the sounds faded behind them.
Eventually, they reached a small overhang of stone and collapsed behind it, gasping.
The woman was unconscious.
Theo looked at Nathan. "Okay. That? Not a Scarspawn."
Nathan nodded slowly. "Looks like something worse."
"Yeah," Theo said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Definitely screaming next time."
Nathan didn't laugh. He stared out at the woods, heart still racing.
Whatever that thing was, it wasn't just dangerous—it was hunting.
He was still prey.
Nathan stayed crouched beneath the overhang, back pressed to the cool stone, breath shallow. Every crack of a branch outside made his hand twitch toward his belt. His bruised fingers itched for Nova, but he didn't move. If the thing was still near, noise would get them killed.
Theo crouched beside the unconscious woman, checking her pulse with quiet efficiency. "Still breathing. Whatever she saw before us—must've run her near dead."
Nathan didn't respond. His eyes stayed fixed on the treeline, watching for the smallest flicker of movement. But the woods had gone still again. That same false silence hung heavy, as if the world itself was waiting.
Theo finally spoke. "You okay?"
Nathan nodded once.
Theo gave a low whistle. "You don't look okay."
"I said I'm fine."
A beat of quiet.
Then: "She said everyone else was dead. That it was still here. She didn't mention numbers—just 'they.' So either a mercenary group got wiped, or a scouting team."
Nathan's jaw tightened. "Either way, we need to report back."
"Yeah," Theo agreed. "But we can't outrun that thing with her like this."
Nathan studied the terrain. The overhang wouldn't hold against a serious assault. And if that thing circled around, they'd be trapped.
"There's a river west of here," he said, recalling a detail from Elias's map. "Steep banks, rocky bed. It might mask our trail."
Theo nodded. "If we're lucky."
"We haven't been yet," Nathan muttered.
He helped Theo lift the woman carefully. She stirred, groaning but not waking. One of her boots was torn through—teeth marks around the edge.
As they moved, Nathan kept scanning the forest, ears tuned to the rhythm of footsteps that never came. The tension coiled tighter the farther they walked. Every sound felt like a warning.
They reached the river just as the sun began to set, blood-orange light spilling across the water. Theo lowered the woman gently onto a dry patch of moss. Nathan crouched beside a fallen log, eyes on the opposite bank.
"We're not going to make it back to Aramore by nightfall," Theo said, not asking.
"No."
"And camping out here with that thing sniffing around is suicide."
Nathan didn't answer.
Theo leaned back against a tree. "So. Any brilliant plans?"
Nathan watched the sky darken, the woods swallowing the last of the light. The chill of evening crept into his bones. But there was something else too—something in the wind. A faint, unnatural hum.
It was distant. But it was there.
He finally spoke. "We find higher ground. Signal the Order at dawn."
Theo raised a brow. "How?"
Nathan unfastened a small cylinder from his belt—one of the signaling flares every auxiliary was given for emergencies. Limited use. One shot.
"We'll make it count."
He stood and looked out over the forest. Somewhere out there, the creature still hunted. Maybe for them. Maybe not. But they'd seen it now. That made them targets.
He wasn't scared.
Not exactly.
But something cold pressed into his chest as the last of the sunlight died—and he knew, deep down, this thing wasn't just a threat.
It was a warning.
Something was stirring beyond the border of the maps.
And they'd just stepped into it.