The area was mangled and desecrated. Blood became even more frequent, pooling in heaps, both blue and red. Trees lay toppled, their trunks splintered like snapped twigs, while deep gouges scarred the frozen ground, churning dirt over the snow.
Scattered among the wreckage there were several of those nightmare creatures from before---each one a withered, decrepit woman, their forms eerily similar to each other.
Zerin took a step, his boots splashing in the azure and red mixture of blood.
Crunch.
His foot struck something solid. His eyes dropping to see what he had stepped on. And his brow furrowed upon the sight.
A severed leg.
Frozen solid. Encased in ice.
He carefully lifted the limb from the mixture of blood. The cut was clean, just below the kneecap. But three things stood out.
First, it was a man's leg---not Ecludia's.
Second, there was no blood. The wound was open and dry as a bone.
Third, a slender wooden knife protruded from the frozen flesh, its surface etched with runes.
Zerin ripped the wooden knife from the severed leg, tucking it away in his pocket.
"Same runes as before…"
The matching runes, the amount of nightmare creatures, the sudden, calculated attack the moment he and Evan had left—none of it was a coincidence. This could only mean…
Zerin's thoughts ceased as he heard a scuffle in the snow. His hand flew to his darkened blade immediately, his ears tracking the sound.
Admist the wreckage and the lifeless bodies of its kin, one creature still clung to life. Wounded and pathetic, it could do nothing but drag itself across the frozen ground.
Zerin, still holding the limb in his hand approached the nightmare creature and swiftly ended its life.
[You have slain a Dormant beast, Frost wretch.]
"Another Dormant..."
His sharp gaze swept across the path of ruin, following the trail.
A thunderous voice bellowed from what Zerin could only discern as the heart of the devastation.
"You want to die?!"
The sheer force of it sent a jolt of adrenaline surging through Zerin's veins. He bolted forward, his grip tightening around the frozen limb and his sword. He didn't hesitate.
The sounds of an intense struggle grew louder—trees splintering, the heavy stomp of a massive beast. Zerin pressed on, drawing closer with each step, pushing past a broken tree. His chest heaved as he finally saw them.
The Howler.
And a stranger.
Hanging upside down, gripped tightly by the ankle in the Howler's powerful arm.
"You bastard! Let me go! Stupid mutt!" The stranger flailed, his arms swinging wildly as he twisted and writhed in the creature's grasp.
The Howler sneered, its glowing sockets narrowing, a deep, guttural growl vibrating through its body.
The conditions of the two were grim. The stranger, dangling from the Howler's grasp, had several portions of his body exposed to the air---his rib jutting out from his side, part of his skull visible where the skin on his forehead been torn away, and his leg, severed. Despite the bitter cold, he was shirtless. But what was more disturbing was the fact that there was no blood from his wounds—not a single drop—only exposed bone and tattered flesh.
The Howler, however, wasn't spared either. Its once-pristine pelt, now soaked in its own blood. Yet, to Zerin's shock, the creature had somehow regrown its missing arm.
"Who are you?" Zerin approached closer, drawing both of the Howler and Cain's attention.
The stranger was slightly taller than Zerin, and was roughly around the same age. His hair, light gray and disheveled from the violence. Faded scars marred his features, speckling almost every inch of his body, each one varying in size and shape.
The stranger shouted in frustration. "The name is Cain! Now, are you going to help me, or is this some kind of interrogation?!"
Zerin winced. Loud. Incredibly loud.
With a sigh, Zerin waved his hand, which was a subtle signal to the Howler.
The creature obeyed---but with mischief.
Instead of gently lowering Cain, it unceremoniously dropped him headfirst into the snow.
A muffled thump. A brief silence.
A muffled groan came from the half-buried stranger, and Zerin shot the Howler a sharp, narrow-eyed look.
The fanged beast bared its teeth in a toothy grin of satisfaction before turning away and settling itself behind him, its glorious work evidently done.
"Of course... I should've been more clear..."
Zerin exhaled through his nose, already feeling a headache forming.
In front of them, Cain cursed, thrashing against the snow as he pulled himself upright---a task made significantly harder when half of his leg was missing. He wobbled unsteadily, nearly toppling over, but sheer frustration kept him moving.
Then his gaze locked onto something---his severed leg, still clutched in Zerin's hand.
"Give me that!" Cain barked.
Cain lurched forward in a clumsy, hobbling motion, snatching the frozen limb from Zerin's gasp.
Zerin said nothing, simply watching as Cain pathetically fumbled with the severed limb, pressing it against his stump as if sheer will power would make the frosted limb reattach.
"It's clearly not working." Zerin said after getting fed up with his foolish attempts.
"Don't tell me what is fucking working! Your bastard mutt caused this!" Cain snapped.
Seconds passed. Then another. The leg remained unattached.
Cain let out a guttural growl, his frustration boiling over. "Stupid fucking hags! You kill one, and more just crawl out of the damn woodwork! It's fucking endless!"
With an enraged snarl, he flung the severed limb---carelessly right at Zerin.
Zerin barely dodged the frozen appendage, as it whipped behind him landing in the snow.
"Hey! Watch where you are throwing that!" Zerin yelled his patience thinning. His grip tightened around his sword as he glared at Cain. "Unless you're eager to lose the rest of your limbs—and be left here to fend for yourself."
"And see how far that gets you! You think you're safe? They'll come back for you too. Just like they took my brother. Just like they took the stupid blonde girl." Cain scorned.
Zerin's entire body went rigid. His pulse pounded in his ears as his gaze locked onto Cain's.
"Ecludia?" He took a step closer, his knuckles white around the handle of his blade. "Who are they?"
Cain scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. "Who the hell do you think? The damn hags!" His voice cracked with anger.
Zerin's composure faltered. He felt his stomach twist into a cold, hard knot. Nightmare creatures took her? His fingers stiffened around his sword. If that was true, she was good as dead.
His jaw clenched. "What were you doing here?" He leveled his sword at Cain's chest, the blade steady despite the anger present within.
"What were you doing here?" Zerin raised his sword aiming it square at Cain's chest.
Cain glared at him. "I was trying to help, for gods' sake! Your damn pet lost its mind and attacked me! Then the hags took her while I was bleeding out—so if you're looking for someone to blame, try yourself!" His voice rose.
Zerin didn't speak. Instead, he took another slow step forward, his shadow falling over Cain.
Cain frowned. "What the hell do you---"
Zerin thrust out his hand.
"You are going to help me."
Cain stared at Zerin's outstretched hand for a long moment. Then, with a sharp exhaled, he reached up taking his hand as Zerin hauled him to his one good leg. His balance wavered for a moment, but he steadied himself, his breath fogging in the cold air.
"I'm not doing this because you told me to—or even for her life," Cain muttered, his voice low and edged with steel. His fingers tightened into a fist as he braced himself against Zerin's shoulder for support. "I'm out for revenge. They took my brother."
Zerin met his gaze. "That works for me."
Cain's eyes flicked away, making a subtle motion with the nod of his head.
Zerin followed his gesture with his eyes landing on a nearby tree.
"But in this state," Cain huffed shifting his weight, "I can't do much. Get me over there." He pointed toward the gnarled tree that Zerin passed just a several minutes ago.
Zerin followed his wish, guiding him forward. When they reached the tree, he pushed of Zerin, dropping to his knee in the snow.
Cain plunged his hand into the icy mound, his fingers burrowing through the frozen layers. His breath came in short, visible puffs as he searched. Then, at last, his grip closed around something solid. With a grunt, he pulled it free.
A spine.
The vertebrae, covered in powdery snow, each segment dusted with a thin layer of snow.
Zerin's brow furrowed at the sight, his grip instinctively tightening on his sword. But before he could voice his confusion, the spine in Cain's grasp shuddered.
A sickening crack split the air as the vertebrae twisted and stretched, each bone snapping into place with unnatural precision. The grotesque reshaping continued, the spine bending, elongating—until, right before Zerin's eyes, it was no longer a spine at all.
It had become a pair of crutches, forged entirely of bone.
Zerin's breath hitched as Cain, once maimed and struggling to stand, straightened to his full height. With his new crutches, he was now just a fraction taller than Zerin.
he began walking forward with his new crutches made of bone. "You have a place where I can rest a moment before we go? I just need to thaw out my leg and I'll be good to go."
Zerin nodded, "It's just a short distance from here."
***
Evan sat restlessly at the cave's entrance, his foot tapping against the cold stone as he peered out. The entrance remained exposed, but he hardly cared—his focus was locked on the tree line, expecting them to appear at any moment. Yet, hours had passed, and there was still no sign of Zerin or Ecludia.
With a shaky exhale, he dismissed his hammer, his hands pressing against his temples. A wave of nausea settled in, tightening his throat as he forced down a hard swallow.
"This isn't good... This can't be good..." he muttered, his fingers curling into fists. His gaze flicked back to the forest, desperation threading through his voice. "Damn it! Please..."
He wasn't certain he could endure this weight. He was crushed by the reality that he had failed. He hadn't been there to protect her, and even worse, caused this by relinquishing control. It was his choice that had led them into the ambush, and now, the undeniable truth echoed in his mind---it was his fault.
Unknowingly, while Evan was in this moment of internal torment, Seren slowly emerged from her long slumber. She rose to her feet, stretching with a groan, her mind was still foggy, unaware of everything that had transpired. All she could see was Evan, frozen in worry, she could feel his anguish spilling from him visually, leaving her to wonder what happened.
"What happened?" Seren asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Evan tensed at her touch, his breath hitching as he raised his gaze to face her. For a moment, he simply stared. A storm churned inside him---a twisted mix of relief that she was awake and the dread of what he ahd to tell her before she pieced it together on her own.
"Where's Ecludia?" Seren's gaze swept around the cavern, confusing deepening, worry fixing on her own face. "Why are we back here?"
There it was... The flurry of questions came faster than he could process, crashing down at him all at once. The pressure swelled in his chest, suffocating. He wanted to disappear.
But suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps scuffling just outside the cave entrance. Evan's eyes widened with a spark of desperate hope. Could it be her? If she walked through that entrance, if she was safe, this nightmare could finally be behind him. The crushing guilt, the unbearable uncertainty--would all dissolve in the flood of relief. Ecludia, alive and well. A friend, finally safe and sound.
But the moment he saw the two people step through the entrance, the flicker of hope in his chest was snuffed out, replaced by a surge of anger he couldn't quite direct at himself. His gaze locked onto Zerin, and that look on his face---calm, unreadable, almost mocking---made his blood boil.
He shouldn't have trusted that thing, and he shouldn't have trusted him.