Days of travel blurred together as Caspian and Bela sped across the landscape, her scooter's engine humming over the crunch of gravel. On the fifth evening, the tracker in Bela's hands pulsed—a jagged blip flaring against the screen.
"Less than three kilometers now," she said, squinting at the horizon. "There—that town."
Caspian followed her gaze. The village clung to the edge of the wetlands like a last breath, its wooden houses sagging under the weight of swamp-humid air. No lanterns glowed in the windows; no voices carried over the stagnant silence. Even the wind seemed to avoid this place. The two of them wandered into the town, looking around for the people
Bela rolled the scooter to a stop, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. "Where is everyone?"
The answer came in fragments: a curtain twitching shut, a child's face yanked back from a doorway. Whispers slithered through the gaps in the walls, words too frayed to decipher.
Then Caspian went rigid, his chi spiking like a storm warning. Bela turned to see Caspian on the same spot, his expression serious.
"What's going on? Why are you—" Bela cut herself off as she followed his gaze upward.
On the roofs. "I don't think they are friendly." Caspian followed up.
Monkey-like creatures crouched along the eaves, their greenish hides mottled with lichen and old scars. Armored plates encased their limbs like stone shackles, and their eyes—yellow and unblinking—locked onto the intruders. One peeled its lips back in a snarl that showed too many teeth.
"Well," Bela muttered, fingers tightening around her gun, "that explains the hospitality." Sweat slid down her temple as the creatures crept closer, their screeches slicing through the air like rusted blades.
"HIDE!"
A girl's voice—sharp with terror. Caspian glimpsed a single wide eye through a cracked shutter before it vanished. His pulse kicked up.
"Bela," he said, not looking away from the monsters. "Go. I got this."
She hesitated, then ducked behind a cart. Good.
The energy flowed through him, a part of him exited, this was part of why he left after all. To find new challenges, to adventure.
The first creature lunged, its body suspended in the air for a heartbeat too long, it's jaw outstretched, strands of spit splattering out. Caspian planted his feet, muscles coiled, and the moment the beast was within range, he spun. His kick connected with a wet crack, sending the creature hurtling into the side of a building. Wood splintered under the impact, the wall buckling like rotten bark.
Before the first body even hit the ground, another was already in motion—limbs splayed wide, fingers curled into claws tipped with jagged, yellowed nails. Caspian's fist shot out, a straight jab that snapped the creature's head back. It skidded across the dirt, screeching like rusted hinges.
Caspian exhaled sharply, eyes darting across the rooftops. Three dozen, maybe more. Their greenish hides blended into the mossy shingles, eyes gleaming like polished amber. He rolled his shoulders. Easy.
"Get them, Caspian! You could do this easy!" Bela's voice rang out, half-cheer, half-warning. He caught a glimpse of her ducking behind a broken-down cart, her fingers white-knuckled around her blaster.
A smirk tugged at his lips. His legs tensed, tendons tightening like drawn bowstrings—then he launched himself forward to the nearest water barrel, using that as a vault then landing lightly on the nearest roof. The creatures didn't scatter. They swarmed, a wave of gnarled limbs and bared teeth, their stench thick with swamp rot.
Caspian's foot hooked under aloose tile, flipping it into his hand. With a snap of his wrist, he hurled it edge-first into the nearest creature's throat. It gagged, stumbling back into two others,a tangle of limbs forming.
He didn't wait. Pivoting, he drove his elbow into a fourth beast's spine, using its body as a shield against the next attacker's claws.
One after another they came, endless. Caspian met them with punches and kicks, each strike landing with a dull crunch. But they were everywhere. Scratches bloomed across his skin as the fight dragged on, his blue gi streaked with blood. He ignored the pain, leaping to another roof to buy space. They followed like ants to sugar, giving him no room to breathe. The air above was filled with the sound of snapping bones and animal snarls.
Caspian stepped back, his foot punching through the roof's weak spot. The wood groaned as he yanked his leg free, but the damage was done. With a final crack, the roof gave way. He fell—and a waterfall of creatures came crashing down after him.
Wood, dust, and broken tiles exploded outward. Somewhere in the chaos, a family screamed before their footsteps scrambled away.
Now buried under the writhing mass, Caspian lay in darkness. The creatures' stone-hard skin pressed against him from all sides, their screeches ringing in his ears like trapped birds.
He was far from done. His fist struck upward, hitting open air before teeth clamped around his wrist. He swung his other fist blindly, connecting with something hard and bony.
With a violent shake, he fought for space, his head finally breaking free of the writhing mass. The creatures clung to him like glue - for every one he threw off, two more latched on, claws and teeth sinking deeper into his skin. They crashed through walls and furniture as he struggled, wood splintering with each impact. One final leap sent him bursting through the side of the house, the remaining beasts scattering as he landed hard on the street behind Bela's hiding spot.
Their yellow eyes glowed through the dust-choked ruins of the house. He could hear them moving in the shadows, claws clicking against wood as they prepared to strike again. Only about ten remained now. The village streets told the story of the battle - bodies hung limp from rooftops, lay broken in the dirt, with surely more buried in the wreckage of the house.
Caspian noticed the village had come alive around them. Faces peered from windows and doorways, eyes wide with disbelief. His torn gi hung loose from his left shoulder, the entire left leg of his pants gone. Blood trickled from dozens of scratches across his body.
And he was grinning.
The iron taste of blood coated Caspian's tongue as he spat a on the scarred street. Ten creatures remained. Breathing heavily, their claws gripping the ground, watching Caspian like cats preparing to pounce.
Caspian's breath steadied. This fight needed to end - and he'd been waiting to test this technique in a real fight. Slowly, he raised his open palm as if cradling an invisible ball. Chi prickled across his skin like static before a storm, gathering in his hand until a faint blue glow shinned on his cheek.
Behind the Caspian, sandals scuffed against stone. An elder emerged, his spine curved, gnarled hands trembling around a staff.
"You..." The man's voice rasped. His milky eyes darted between Caspian's wounds and the fallen beasts. "No ordinary traveler can challenge the swamp monkeys."
A girl no older than eight peeked from behind the elder's patched robe, gaspinng sharp as she took in Caspian's shredded gi and the blood matting his leg. The creatures hissed but held their ground, yellow eyes flicking between their opponent and the gathering villagers.
Bela's boots crunched through pottery shards as she emerged, her tracker glashing green pulses that synchronized with the creatures' agitated breathing. "They're waiting," she murmured.
The largest beast suddenly reared back, nostrils flaring as it breathed. With a cry, it turned and fled, the others scrambling after it in a flurry of clawed feet kicking up mud along the path to the wetlands.
As the villagers surged forward, the air filled with panicked whispers and the clatter of gathered tools. The elder's staff thumped against the ground silencing the others.
"The Swamp Princess called them. They'll return with twice the numbers unless..." His gaze traveled over Caspian's battle-torn body, lingering on the fading blue glow around his fingers. "Unless someone can take her down."
Caspian let the energy dissipate, feeling it seep back into his veins like warm ink. There'd be another chance to test the technique.
Bela's tracker beeped. "Signal's coming from deep in the wetlands." She turned the screen toward Caspian, where a throbbing dot pulsed like a heartbeat. "That's where we'll find the shard." Caspian nodded, then he turned to the old man.
"Who is this Swamp Princess?" Caspian asked, wiping blood from his eyebrow with his torn sleeve.
The elder's gripped his staff. "She has ruled here since my grandfather's time." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Decides when we eat, when we breathe, which children get to see adulthood. The last trader who defied her..." He gestured to a blackened patch on the village well.
Bela's nose wrinkled. "Pretty fancy for someone like that."
"Legends say she was royalty once." The elder's yellowed nails dug into the wood grain. "Anamia, that's what her name was. Though no one knows her story, exept her"
Caspian rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant burn of fading adrenaline. The scratches across his chest were already clotting, the pain just a distant hum beneath his skin.
"Royal or not," he said, cracking his neck with a sound like snapping twigs, "she got a star shard, we need it."
The elder stood firm, pointing a bony finger toward the rotting dock where boat laid, its hull streaked with suspicious dark stains.
"Take it," he said. "Keep your star if you must. But please, if the oppertunity arises. Kill her." Behind him, the little girl clutched a straw doll to her chest, its button eyes reflecting the swamp's creeping mist.