Leo tightened the straps of his grass woven bags, holding his potions and gear in place. His makeshift spear, reinforced with resin and sharpened bone, sat comfortably in his hand. The cave that had been his sanctuary for the past few days was cold and alien. Maybe it was the mirror, or maybe it was the silence that pervaded the room, but whatever it was, he felt it was time to leave.
He stepped out of his dwelling, the crisp morning air cool on his skin. The forest, its wounds still raw from his battle with the Bloodclaw Ursan, stretched out before him, known and unknown. He had grown used to its dangers, its uncertainty. Today, though, the danger was of a different sort.
Today, he was going into the unknown.
As he took his first steps away from the cave, a pang of sadness hit him. The wolf cub still hadn't returned.
He had expected to see it bounding toward him by now, eyes bright with curiosity, tail wagging in that oddly endearing way. But the cave entrance was empty, and the forest beyond was still.
Leo sighed, shaking off the heaviness in his chest.
"If you're still out there, stay safe."
With that final consideration, he turned and started out.
The Burned Forest
The way before him was dangerous. Though he had an idea of direction—the stranger had informed him that the city was not far off—he didn't actually have a map to chart by. He had only his brains and the river.
So he walked alongside the water.
The morning was too still as he walked through the charred landscape of the forest. The devastation that was left by the Bloodclaw Ursan was still new—smoked wood, fire-blackened ground, trees with claw marks ripped deep into their bark.
As he passed where he battled the monster, he stopped. The beast's giant body still remained where he left it, but scavengers already fed on it. Crows circled overhead, pecking at its exposed wounds.
Leo flinched but stepped forward cautiously. He had already taken out its teeth and claws, but he scoured its remains one last time.
Nothing useful.
He turned away and gripped his spear more firmly.
The remains waited.
Signs of Civilization
Leo pushed through what had felt like hours. The river took him along the dense underbrush, past massive trees, fallen logs, and scattered rocks. The more he walked, the more contrived the forest felt.
The first sign that he was approaching something other than the typical woods was a road.
It was barely recognizable—weathered stone, moss-grown and dusty, half-devoured by nature. But it was a road, a clear sign that he was getting near what once was a city.
His heart beat faster.
Taking the trail, he soon saw stone structures pushing through the heavy undergrowth. They were at first nothing but ruined walls, broken pillars, the fragments of buildings that had been long abandoned.
And then, as he moved forward, the ruins became clearer.
Arrival at the Ruined City
By midday, Leo had arrived at what was unmistakeably, or at least seemed to be, the city. Or what remained of the city.
The ruins stretched far and wide, stone buildings in splintered ruin, buildings toppled in rubble, roads clogged with fat flowers and vines. Once-towering spires now lay in piles of stone, their foundations scarcely vertical.
A stifling stillness filled the air.
Leo slowed at the city's entrance, his hands reflexively tightening on his spear.
"This place… It's completely abandoned."
Even expecting ruins, seeing it in front of him made him nervous. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of life somewhere—a signal of the survivors, left supplies, anything.
But this place was deserted, and more.
Dead.
A cold gust of wind raked over the ruins, taking the leaves with a soft whoosh. Leo chilled.
"Something's not right."
The words of the stranger troubled him greatly.
"You should go to the city. It's not distant."
Why had he brought Leo to this place?
What was he thinking?
Leo took a deep breath. Standing around would not provide answers.
He needed shelter by the evening.
Setting Up Camp
Leo surveyed the landscape, searching for a place to take a break. He found a partially standing structure in the heart of the city—a destroyed tower with sufficient frame left to provide him with shelter.
He made a small clear space inside, setting down his pouches and equipment with care.
As he did this, he couldn't shake the impression that he was being watched.
He glanced around.
Nothing.
Just empty ruins that stretched out for miles.
He breathed deliberately, scrubbing his head.
"You're just on edge."
The silence, the strange atmosphere—it was getting to him.
Deciding to distract himself, he went to gather firewood. There were plenty of fallen branches scattered around, making it easy to set up a small fire pit.
As he worked, the unsettling feeling only grew.
Like something was just out of sight.
Watching.
Waiting.
A Shadow in the Ruins
As the sun went below the horizon, Leo sat beside his fire, snacking on a clump of berries and dried rabbit. He had just started to relax when he heard it.
A noise.
A low, distant scraping sound.
Leo froze.
It was coming from farther inside the ruins.
He rose slowly to his feet, spear in hand.
The noise again.
Scrape. Drag. Scrape. Drag.
His heart pounded.
He gazed out over the ruins, the light of the dying sun casting long, threatening shadows over the shattered city.
And then, at the periphery of his vision—
A shape.
It was huge, gliding with glacial pace, just beyond his field of vision.
Leo retreated, gripping his spear so tightly his knuckles hurt.
"What. is that?"
The shape lurched forward.
The fire crackled behind him.
The world felt too quiet.
Leo retreated again.
The monster approached closer.
Then, as the light started to go out—he saw it.
His breath was stuck in his throat.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't an animal.
It was something wrong.