Ep.18 Escape Pt.2

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reasoned it was safe to emerge. Slowly, I poked my head out of the narrow crevice, scanning the terrain for any lingering threats. Nothing. No monstrous figures lurking in the shadows, no unnatural movements beyond the slow drift of ash carried by the wind. Only silence.

With a cautious exhale, I stepped fully into the open, sheathing my sword. The heat from the mountain's breath still clung to the air, wrapping around me like an unwelcome shroud. As I looked out over the horizon, the devastation stretched far beyond what I had expected. To my left, the charred remnants of a battlefield smoldered, skeletal husks of trees standing as blackened tomb stones punctuating the wasteland. The earth was cracked and scorched, the soil brittle beneath layers of hardened magma. Wisps of smoke curled toward the sky, remnants of whatever conflict had taken place here.

Yet beyond the ruin, something else—something alive waited. A dense forest, untouched by the flames, its green canopy standing in stark contrast to the surrounding wasteland. The sight of it sent a strange feeling through me, something I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. Hope.

I shifted my footing down the rocky incline, mindful of every unstable step. The descent was treacherous, the brittle volcanic stone crumbling beneath my boots. As I picked my way downward, I took stock of myself. My cloak was barely more than a rag, riddled with burnt holes. My hands were blackened with soot, fingers stiff and aching from gripping my sword for too long. My skin was coated in a thin layer of ash, and my eyes burned from the smoke. Every breath felt heavy, thick with the remnants of fire and destruction.

I needed to get off this mountain.

By the time I neared the base, I paused, scanning the land below. Beyond the burned fields and untouched forest, the red sea caught my eye—a vast stretch of red. Even from this distance, it still unnerved me. It seemed more like an unnatural growth spewing out of the ground.

The last few hundred feet of my descent were slow and cautious. Loose rock threatened to send me tumbling if I miss stepped, and the heat from the volcano was still intense enough to make the air shimmer. When I finally reached the foot of the mountain, the world around me remained a picture of ruin. The towering peak loomed behind me, casting long, blood-red shadows across the land as the obscured sun struggled to break through the thick haze overhead.

The air felt heavier here, as if the weight of the past battles still lingered. Charred trees lay scattered like fallen warriors, their trunks twisted and broken. Ash coated everything, a ghostly reminder of what had once thrived. I moved quickly, weaving through the wreckage, keeping my head low. The silence of the wasteland was unsettling, but ahead of me, the promise of life remained.

As I crossed into the untouched area, the shift was jarring. One moment, I was surrounded by desolation—the next, I was enveloped by dense brush, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and growing plants. The contrast was stark, almost unnatural. If I hadn't seen the volcano with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it was still there, lurking just behind me.

The eerie silence of the wasteland was replaced with something entirely different—the soft rustling of leaves, the distant chatter of unseen creatures. The sounds of a world still alive. I exhaled, allowing some of the tension in my body to ease.

My watch hummed faintly as I checked it. The dim projection flickered to life, displaying my location. I was close now. Only a few hours on foot from the nearest town—Port Lenning.

Motivated now, I pressed onward, gripping my sword as I pushed through the dense vegetation. The undergrowth was thick, forcing me to cut my way through. Thorns snagged at my already tattered cloak, vines threatened to trip my steps. The deeper I went, the more the forest seemed to close in around me.

The canopy overhead wove together so tightly that only the occasional sliver of red light pierced through, illuminating the forest floor in strange, broken patterns. The deeper I moved, the heavier the air became. It wasn't just the humidity—it was something else. A weight pressing down on the world around me.

Then, as I stepped into a small clearing where sunlight rained down, something changed.

A sound.

Low. Deep. A guttural murmur that rolled through the trees, thick and primal.

I froze. The noise hadn't come from behind me. It was ahead.

My grip on my sword tightened, my breath catching in my throat.

Something was there. Watching.

I remained still, straining my ears. The forest had gone completely silent. No birds. No rustling leaves. Just the distant echo of that terrible sound, like something massive shifting just out of sight.

The air felt colder now, though I knew that was impossible.

Then—movement.

The brush ahead trembled ever so slightly, as though something impossibly large was moving with impossible grace. The shadows between the trees seemed to deepen, stretching unnaturally as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

A second murmur, closer this time.

I took a slow step back, every instinct in my body screaming at me to leave.

But I had no idea where to run.

And worse—whoever, whatever was out there, already knew I was here.