The wind blew through the skeletal trees, their branches like bones clattering in the dark.
The Howler stared still, its pointy ears twitching, Zerin now learning his lesson from the first time realized that this particular behavior was a clear sign that something is wrong.
Zerin stopped behind the Howler and the crew did as well, mirroring the Howler's hesitation.
The creature stood still, its nostrils flaring as it glanced back at Zerin. Instinctively, he understood what this meant. Perhaps it was the nature of a master and a servant, but somehow, he could sense the reason for its uncertainty.
"Damn it…" Zerin muttered, eyes locked on the creature.
Beside him, Cain frowned, clearly trying—and failing—to make sense of the situation. Evan and Seren stepped forward from the rear, their gazes shifting between Zerin and the Howler.
"What's happening?" Evan asked, unease creeping into his voice.
"Scent is lost." Zerin said, his expression hardening.
Seren inhaled sharply. "How did that happen?"
Cain, usually the bold and brazen one, suddenly went rigid. His shoulders tensed, and his gaze went skyward. A slow exhale left him, colder than the environment around them.
Then, he parted his lips to speak. "I don't want to freak any of you out, but we need to keep moving before we are surrounded by the incoming storm."
Evan responded with confusion. "Storm? What storm?"
Zerin on the other hand took heed to the caution as he has read it before, previously thinking it was just a false warning, but from Cain's warning it seems to hold some wieght.
"The storm that will kill us, if not by the creatures within the storm we will suffer by the effects it has on your very soul, you see, I can survive getting my leg chopped off, perhaps even survive my body being severed in half, but this storm, is not a joke, as it attacks the very soul."
Seren gasped in fear, Evan furrowed his brow further taking in the seriousness of the situation, thinking of potential options, while Zerin had already made up his mind.
Zerin brow furrowed. "We should head back then."
"Head back!?" Evan said with confusion. "We have walked for hours and now you want to head back? We can push through a---"
"Evan... If the storm is as dangerous as Cain said then we shouldn't risk our lives, we can wait out another couple of days." Zerin said as he looked at him.
Another gust roared through the trees, carrying with it a deeper chill, biting through layers of clothing like needles of ice. The trees trembled in the gale, whispering something inaudible between their skeletal limbs.
"We can't wait another couple of days! She is out there right now!" Evan pointed out to the direction they were headed.
Tensions rose swiftly, Zerin didn't realize it but the previous interaction with Evan didn't seem to be fully handled, and this reaction must be the residual outcomes of such.
"If it doesn't have her scent they we can't find her." Seren said, turning to Evan. "I want her back just as bad as you do."
Evan once again found himself in the predicament where he seemed to become the bad guy, how infuriating he found it, but he didn't let it get too far out of reason.
Evan nodded in acceptance. "You're right, we will backtrack and wait out the storm."
Zerin responded with a like-minded gesture, nodding his head before redirecting the Howler once more. The group fell in line, retracing their path. For several minutes, they followed their own tracks, then, a furious cascade of snow roared down from above, as if summoned by the very wind.
A blizzard had been conjured.
"Move!" Zerin commanded.
But the Howler didn't respond. It stood rigid, deaf to his voice.
With a curse, Zerin pushed through the thickening snow, nudging the beast's shoulder. "Go!"
The creature stirred, snapping from its trance, and pressed forward once more.
The group shivered—everyone except Cain, whose bare skin seemed untouched by the frost. Even Evan, usually resilient, clenched his jaw against the creeping cold.
"It's getting closer!" Cain shouted ahead to Zerin.
"We need to keep moving!" Zerin shouted his voice barely above the raging winds.
Zerin pressed on, each step sinking into the thickening snow. The flakes fell heavier now, relentless, blurring his vision to only a few feet ahead. Flakes as large as coins pelted his face, sticking to his eyelashes and melting against his skin. Just ahead, the Howler's massive outline flickered in and out of the fog—a silhouette one moment, gone the next—before it vanished completely into the white void.
"Stop!" Zerin called out, his voice cracking from the cold. To his astonishment, the command seemed to silence the gale itself. The snow ceased its assault almost instantly, falling away into an unnatural stillness.
Confused, he turned back toward his companions—Cain with his frost-crusted onto his bare chest, Evan clutching his battle hammer that was heavily dusted with snow, and Seren, her eyes wide with concern. All three stared at him with undisguised surprise, as if he'd performed some impossible feat.
Then, without warning, a violent gust exploded around them. The world disappeared in a blinding whiteout as snow rose from the ground in a deafening vortex. The roar became physical, pressing against Zerin's eardrums until he thought they might burst.
Zerin lost all sense of direction. Up and down bled together, left and right became meaningless. His stomach lurched. He reached out blindly, grasping for anything, but his fingers closed on nothing but ice and air.
Eventually, the raging wind died, leaving only a profound silence in its wake.
Zerin pushed himself to his feet, disoriented and shivering. His limbs felt leaden, his fingertips numb.
But the world around him had changed completely. The forest that had surrounded them was gone—no trees, no landmarks, no sign of the path they'd been following—just an endless, featureless expanse of white stretching in all directions under a sky the color of ash.
Yet, something else lingered. A feeling too familiar to ignore.
He turned sharply, scanning his surroundings, hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. Nothing. He spun again, boots crunching in the pristine snow—still nothing. Then, as his gaze settled straight ahead, the sensation clicked into place like a key in a lock.
Profound peace washed over him. A serenity so complete it felt almost artificial.
And there, standing alone in this new, empty plane, was a tree. One he had encountered before.
It stood quietly, full of terrible majesty, its pale trunk pulsing with veins of cobalt blue light, as if something beneath its bark was alive—beating, breathing, calling. The patterns shifted hypnotically, like blood flowing through translucent skin. It beckoned him, its presence almost magnetic. For a moment, he felt himself slipping away, drawn toward it by an invisible cord hooked deep in his chest. But then, he remembered. The last time he had touched it… what had happened then.
Swiftly, the powerful effect shattered like glass. The manufactured peace turned to unease, then to dread.
His blood ran cold as ice water in his veins.
Through the thick white veil of fog, he saw someone emerge—a slender figure moving with dreamlike slowness.
Squinting, he discerned the familiar black ponytail swinging gently with each step.
Seren moved toward the tree as if she was carried by an invisible tide, her eyes open but unseeing, glazed over with the same blue light that pulsed within the tree's bark.
The tree responded in kind, its branches unfurling toward her, stretching like the yearning arms of a mother eager to pull her child into its embrace.
Zerin's instincts flared, immediately reaching for his sword in its sheath. This wasn't just any ordinary tree like before, this was a nightmare creature, and Seren was completely entrance by it.
Zerin spared no time as he trudged through the knee-deep snow, his legs burning with effort.
The limbs of the tree were now just inches away from her outstretched fingertips. Zerin, holding his darkened sword, sprinted faster.
Just as the grasping arms of the tree were about to touch Seren's, he dove at her with desperate force, tackling her aside while swiping his blade in a wide arc. The dark blade severed the tree's reaching limbs and it responded with a vile shrill.
Zerin and Seren rolled together through the snow, coming to rest several yards from the wounded tree. Zerin positioned himself above her, shaking her shoulders attempting to wake her.
"Wake up! wake up, damn it!" Zerin shouted, shaking her more vigorously. Her head lolled lifelessly, though he could see the rapid movement of her eyes beneath closed lids. Whatever hold the tree had on her mind remained unbroken.
The severed branches writhed atop the snow like dying serpents, leaking cobalt blood that steamed where it fell, melting perfect blue holes in the white blanket. The liquid hissed and bubbled, releasing a scent like ozone and rot.
Zerin exhaled a ragged breath, pushing himself off of her before turning back to face the tree, which had recently undergone a horrifying transformation. The wounded entity seemed to come alive with rage, its trunk contorting as if in agony, a shriek emanating from a place where no mouth should be. The sound cut through the silence of the snowy field like a blade, setting Zerin's teeth on edge and sending shivers down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
The tree unrooted itself from the earth. It rose up on its tangled roots, which rearranged themselves into something unspeakable.
Now fully transformed, the tree took on a grotesque form. Its roots twisted and knotted into a series of legs, like those of a monstrous spider, lifting its bulk high above the snow. Its branches twisted together, weaving and braiding themselves into two massive arms, while several skinnier branches danced in the air behind it like searching tendrils. Most horrifying of all, a gaping maw had split open in what had been its trunk—jagged and dripping with the same blue ichor that flowed through its veins. Its eyes, if they could be called that, were hollow cavities illuminated from within by the same cobalt light.
Zerin widened his stance and gripped his sword with both hands, prepared to fight the monstrosity. This time he was alone, just him and his blade. He wasn't certain he could both carry Seren to safety and outrun this thing, so fighting was his only option.
Zerin gripped his blade tighter, feeling the familiar hum of power vibrating through the hilt. In the obscured white veil of fog, the blade composed of captured fragments of the purple starry night sky flickered. The blizzard raged around them now, masking the illuminating light of both the tree and his sword with swirling curtains of white.
The creature charged forth with little warning, its massive form causing tremors with each impact of its spidery legs. The snow beneath Zerin's feet shuddered and cracked. One massive arm swiped at him in a horizontal arc that would have easily destroyed his ribs if it connected.
Zerin threw himself backward, the creature's arm passing inches from his face. He rolled through the snow and sprang to his feet in one fluid motion.
Without hesitation, he darted forward and struck at one of the monster's legs, his blade slicing through the woody flesh with surprising ease.
The creature bled immediately, cobalt ichor spurting from the wound in rhythmic pulses. Zerin pulled back as the nightmare tree released a shriek of rage and pain—a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
In response, it hammered one massive fist down toward him. Zerin sidestepped the blow, feeling the ground shake as the appendage crashed into the snow.
He glanced up at the towering creature, his mind racing to anticipate its next move, knowing that a single mistake would mean death—not just for him, but for Seren lying vulnerable in the snow behind him.
The creature's eyes blazed brighter as it raised both massive arms overhead, preparing for another strike.
[To be continued...]