The First Breath

Elior lay still on the ground, eyes half-open, his body refusing to move. The air around him felt damp and heavy, carrying a faint smell of ash and soil. For a long moment, he didn't breathe. He wasn't sure he could.

When he finally stirred, the cold reached him first. The surface beneath his back was uneven and hard-packed earth and coarse stone. His fingers brushed over patches of wet moss and something brittle, like dried roots or old twigs. He blinked slowly, the motion painful, and turned his head just enough to look around.

It was still night.

The sky above him was familiar in shape but strange in tone. The stars were where they should be, but the color of the air between them wasn't black. There was a reddish tint to it, faint but constant, like a thin veil hung between him and the sky. It gave everything a dim, unnatural glow. Nothing moved up there. No clouds, no birds, no moon in sight. Just a dull, reddish darkness stretched across the treetops.

He tried to sit up. His body answered, but weakly. Every joint ached, and his stomach felt hollow. It took more effort than it should have to push himself upright. His breath came in sharp pulls, like the air itself was too dense to fill his lungs.

Around him, the forest was dense and uneven. Trees with thick, knotted trunks leaned toward each other in strange angles. Their bark was dark and rough, covered in splotches of pale fungus that seemed to glow faintly in places. The ground dipped and rose with no clear path in any direction, littered with stones, fallen branches, and patches of gray grass that looked too stiff to move in the wind.

Except there was no wind.

Not even a breeze.

Everything was too quiet. No hum of insects. No rustling leaves. Just a thick, low silence, like the whole forest was holding back.

Elior pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly, trying to steady his breathing. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know how he got here. But deep down, he knew this place wasn't Cresthill. It wasn't the ordinary world.

He stood up slowly, using a nearby tree for support. His legs felt stiff, like he hadn't used them in days. For a moment, he didn't know which way to go - every direction looked the same.Still, standing still felt worse.

Elior picked a direction and started walking, careful not to trip on the twisted roots beneath the leaves. Every few steps, he stopped and listened. Still nothing - no voices, no footsteps. It was the kind of silence that made his own heartbeat feel too loud.

He didn't know how long he wandered. Twenty minutes, maybe more. The fog shifted around him, rolling low over the ground, and the air never seemed to warm.

Then came the sound.

A sharp crack echoed through the trees, loud enough to make Elior flinch. It wasn't a branch snapping underfoot. It was heavier. Something was moving.

He turned toward the sound, squinting into the darkness between the trees. At first, he saw nothing. Then came another noise - closer this time. A thud, then the scrape of something hard against stone. The silence of the forest was gone. Now it was full of footsteps. Heavy, uneven, fast.

Something was running.

Branches swayed in the distance, pushed aside with force. Trees shifted, not from wind but from impact. A shape moved through them - large, hunched, and fast. It didn't run like a person. Its body moved lower to the ground, with limbs that swung too far forward, like it was dragging itself and leaping at the same time.

Elior backed away instinctively, feet slipping on loose dirt. His breath caught in his throat. He crouched down behind a boulder, pressing himself against the side, heart hammering. He didn't know what the thing was, but he knew enough to be afraid.

The creature burst through the tree line, no more than twenty meters away. It stopped abruptly, scanning the area with sharp, jerking movements. It was taller than any man Elior had ever seen - at least three meters if it stood fully upright - but its back was bent in an unnatural arch. Its skin was grayish and stretched tight across a frame built more like a beast than a human. Thick arms ended in clawed fingers, and its legs bent the wrong way at the joints. Across its chest, scars or open wounds pulsed with faint light, as if something inside it was alive.

Its head turned. No eyes, just deep hollows where they should have been. But it could sense something. It sniffed the air, long and loud, the sound wet and rattling. Its mouth opened slightly-jagged teeth gleamed under the reddish sky.

It wasn't looking for Elior.

Not yet.

It was running from something.

A second later, Elior's foot slipped on a loose rock, just a small shift in his balance - but it made a sound. A single scrape of boot against stone.

The creature froze.

Its head snapped in his direction. Shoulders tightened. It growled - low and rough - and began walking toward him, each step deliberate and heavy. Its claws sank into the dirt with every movement, carving shallow grooves as it moved.

Elior stumbled backward, barely able to breathe. He turned and ran a few steps before tripping and falling to his hands and knees. His body shook as he tried to get up again, but his legs wouldn't move fast enough.

The creature was only a few meters away.

It raised one hand, claws glinting. A deep growl rumbled from its chest as it prepared to strike.

And then, something cut through the air.

A thin line of energy - bright and fast-sliced clean through the monster's wrist. Its hand fell to the ground with a dull thud, severed just below the joint. Blood burst from the open wound in a thick spray, some of it hitting Elior's face.

The creature's scream tore through the stillness as it whirled around, clutching the stump where its hand had been. Blood dripped steadily onto the forest floor, steaming faintly in the cold air. It snarled in the direction of the trees, shoulders hunched, ready to charge.

A second figure stepped into view, walking slowly at first. He wore a long, fitted cloak of deep black, fastened over light armor that didn't shine. A gauntlet covered his right arm, its dark metal etched with faint lines that pulsed with a soft, controlled glow. A stone sat embedded on the back of the gauntlet's hand—small but alive with energy. Even from a distance, Elior could see it clearly.

The man didn't say a word. He raised his arm again.

Energy moved with him - no incantation, no hesitation. It gathered at his feet and pushed into his legs as he leapt forward, covering the distance between them in a single burst. The monster lunged to meet him, swinging with its remaining arm, but the mage was already slipping past it, feet light and balanced. He spun low and struck with the edge of his gauntlet, slicing another shallow line along the beast's ribs.

It roared and turned again, swinging wildly.

The stranger didn't stop moving.

He ducked under the blow, twisted to the side, and drove his palm into the monster's chest. A blast of energy followed the motion - a sharp pulse, focused and direct. The creature staggered, its back arching from the force.

Elior watched in stunned silence, crouched behind the same fallen tree. His mind couldn't make sense of the fight. The way the mage moved - it wasn't like the stories where wizards stood back and shouted spells. This was different. It was fast, close. The magic wasn't a separate thing. It was part of every step, every movement. As if the energy responded to thought before words were needed.

The fight didn't last long.

Another strike landed, this time to the creature's side, and it dropped to one knee. Blood poured from the wounds now. The man paused, holding his stance, waiting.

The beast let out a final, broken sound and collapsed forward.

The cloaked figure stood still for a moment longer, hand still outstretched, gauntlet humming quietly. He stepped away from the corpse and began to prepare something - Elior couldn't see what, not yet.

All he could do was watch, still hiding, still shaking, not sure if he'd survived something - or just stumbled into something worse.

The man knelt beside the fallen creature, resting one hand against its back. His gauntlet began to glow brighter this time, the stone in the center pulsing with steady light. He pressed his palm into the corpse and closed his eyes. A low hum filled the air - soft and rhythmic.

At first, nothing happened.

Then the flesh began to change. It didn't rot or burn - it thinned, broke apart, and faded like smoke. The skin dissolved layer by layer, curling away from the bones in wisps of gray light. From the center of the chest, something started to rise: a shape, loose and faint, glowing just slightly. It wasn't solid, but it had weight. Like a soul pulled from deep inside.

Elior leaned forward slightly, staring. He didn't understand what he was seeing, but it held his attention completely.

The man brought his other hand up and focused his energy again. Light flared from the gauntlet's core. The soul-like shape began to shift, tightening - trying to form something more solid.

And then it stopped.

The light around the figure flickered and dimmed. The shape cracked like glass, split into fragments, and vanished into the air. Gone.

The man stayed still for a few seconds, unmoving, staring at the space where the essence had just been. Then he pulled his hand back slowly, standing upright with a quiet exhale through his nose. His face didn't show much, but something in the set of his jaw had changed.

Elior saw it. He looked frustrated. Not surprised - like he'd expected it to work.

The silence returned.

Elior pulled himself back, slowly inching away. He didn't want to be noticed. Maybe the man would leave, maybe he hadn't seen -

Something felt wrong.

The air behind him had gone heavy-denser than before, as if it were pressing against his skin. He froze for half a second, then turned to glance over his shoulder.

There was no one by the creature's corpse.

The man was gone.

He turned fully, heart pounding.

And there he was.

The man now stood directly behind him, closer than anyone should have been able to move in that short time. Elior hadn't heard a step, hadn't felt a thing. It was like the world had blinked - and the stranger had crossed the entire clearing in that instant.

Elior gasped and staggered backward - but only got half a step before bumping into something solid.

The man didn't move.

Elior backed away again, putting space between them this time, eyes wide and breath stuck in his throat.

The man stared - not with confusion, but with quiet focus. His eyes swept over Elior like someone trying to understand a situation, not a creature.

Then, calmly, he spoke.

"Vaalen ekh nerai, kyn deh varo?"