THE CONVOY’S FATE

I strode through the palace corridors with determined steps, the sound of my boots echoing against the stone walls. As I approached the stable near the palace exit, Ellisar was already there, tightening the straps on his saddle. Behind him, a handful of armed elfs were checking their gear and adjusting their mounts.

Ellisar turned when he noticed me approaching. "Ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, adjusting the sword strapped to my side before mounting the horse waiting for me.

Our group, ten in total, moved through the city at a brisk pace.

"How far is Alathion?" I asked as we passed through the capital gates, the forest looming ahead.

"It's not far," Ellisar replied. "Once we're clear of the city, it's about a thirty-minute ride at most. The guard said that her convoy had already left the city when they were attacked, so we might find them sooner."

I nodded, gripping the reins tightly.

Turning in my saddle, I addressed the men riding behind us. Their faces were tense, uncertainty written in their expressions. "If these are the creatures I believe them to be, they are extremely dangerous," I said, my voice firm. "Stay behind me and don't get in my way. Stick together, and if anyone is injured, see to them immediately. These things won't care how strong you are—they'll kill you without hesitation."

A younger elf furrowed his brow in skepticism, while another shifted uneasily in his saddle. I could see the doubt in their eyes, the unspoken question of why they should follow the orders of a human.

Ellisar turned sharply toward them, his voice cutting through the tension. "Do whatever he says if you want to live. His orders are final."

The weight of his words seemed to settle the group, though the air remained thick with unease. The men exchanged hesitant glances before nodding in acknowledgment.

The road slowly narrowed before us, winding through forest. The trees began to press close, their shadows twisting in the afternoon light.

As we neared Alathion, the first signs of the ambush came into view. The remains of a horse lay sprawled in the dirt, its flank torn open by jagged claws. A few paces further, a broken cart lay discarded by the side of the road, its wood splintered and darkened with blood.

The scene grew grimmer the closer we got. Bodies lay scattered in the underbrush, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain. The ground was churned, a chaotic blend of hoofprints, claw marks, and blood-soaked earth.

Ellisar pulled his horse to a stop, scanning the carnage with a hardened expression. "We're close," he said quietly.

I dismounted, the crunch of the earth and dried blood beneath my boots set my nerves on edge. Motioning for the others to follow suit, I spoke firmly. "Stay together. Keep your weapons ready, and don't stray from the group."

The men nodded, gripping their swords tightly.

Ellisar knelt beside one of the fallen, brushing his gloved hand against the torn fabric of their cloak. "This one's fresh," he said grimly. "They weren't killed long ago."

I scanned the tree line, every sense on high alert. The forest seemed unnaturally quiet, as though even the wind dared not disturb the silence.

"We're not alone," I said.

Ellisar stood, his gaze meeting with mine. "I feel it too," he said, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword. "We'd best be ready."

We moved further up the road on foot. The scattered bodies gave way to an even more grim sight—the remnants of the convoy. Broken wagons and carriages lay overturned, their wheels still spinning faintly in the breeze. Supplies were strewn across the ground: shattered crates, torn sacks of grain, and delicate fabrics now soaked with blood.

The horses that remained alive were hiding just beyond the treeline, trembling and skittish, their wide eyes darting toward every movement.

"There," Ellisar said, pointing toward a cluster of wagons at the center of the wreckage. The largest, likely the Queen's, had its door torn completely off.

As we drew closer, the grim reality became clear. The guards who had been assigned to protect the convoy lay sprawled in unnatural positions, their armor twisted and broken. I knelt beside one of them, inspecting the deep, jagged wounds carved through flesh and steel alike.

"These are claw marks," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

Ellisar crouched beside me, his face set in concentration. "Big ones. Whatever did this wasn't subtle."

"Or merciful," I added, rising to my feet. My gaze swept the area, searching for any sign of survivors. "The Queen... where is she?"

A faint groan caught my attention, drawing my focus to an overturned cart nearby. I motioned for the others to assist me, and together we heaved the cart aside. Beneath it lay a bloodied elf, clutching his side. His eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus on us.

"She's alive..." he rasped. "The Queen... taken into the woods. West..."

"Who took her?" I demanded, gripping his shoulder. "Was it demons?"

He nodded weakly, his face contorting in pain. "Yes, demons... terrible... couldn't stop them..." His head fell to the side, his strength gone.

I straightened, the weight of his words sinking in. My fears were now confirmed.

"They've taken her into the forest," I said to Ellisar.

His jaw tightened, his expression dark. "Then we don't have time to waste."

I turned to the men, who stood frozen, processing the carnage. "Form up!" I barked, my voice cutting through their hesitation. "This isn't over. If the Queen's been taken, we're going after her."

One of them hesitated, his face pale. "Into the forest? After... those things?"

"Yes," Ellisar snapped. "And you'll follow orders. The Queen's life is at stake, and so is Kanesera's future."

The men exchanged uncertain glances but nodded, gripping their weapons tighter.

"As I said, stay close. Watch each other's backs and don't engage unless necessary. These aren't just monsters. They're demons. They're fast and strong, but they bleed. If we're smart, we'll make it out alive—and with the Queen."

With that, we plunged into the forest. Every instinct screamed that we were walking into a trap, but I couldn't ignore the responsibility bearing down on me.

The trail of broken branches and churned earth guided us deeper into the shadows. Ahead, the marks grew fresher, the drag lines of something heavy cutting through the underbrush.

"They didn't get far," I murmured, crouching to examine the tracks.

"They're heading for the river," Ellisar said, pointing toward the faint glimmer of water visible through the trees.

"Then we've got a chance to catch them," I replied.

But even as I spoke, a low, guttural growl echoed through the forest.

"Get ready!" I said, drawing my sword as the others fell into formation.

The forest seemed to come alive. From every direction, the deep growls multiplied. The shadows in the underbrush began to move, their shapes shifting and morphing as if the darkness itself was preparing to strike. I tightened my grip on my sword, my breath caught in my throat as a pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the gloom, staring directly at me. Then another. And another.

They were here.