Beneath The Fallen Sky

The night swallowed all sound but my own breathing. My fingers twitched near my weapon, my pulse hammering in my ears. The underbrush shifted again, just beyond the tree line, a slow and deliberate movement.

Something was out there. Something big.

The air carried a musky, damp scent—earthy, but sharp. Not the smell of a deer. Not anything I recognized. 

Then I saw them.

Pale eyes, wide and unblinking, caught the moonlight between the trees. They hovered at my chest level—no, higher. This thing was massive.

A low, rumbling exhale rasped from its throat, deep and wet, like something was caught inside its lungs. It wasn't just watching me. It was hunting me.

I dropped lower, pressing myself against the damp earth, hoping the darkness would swallow me whole. If I stayed perfectly still, maybe—

The wind shifted.

The thing stopped. Sniffed the air.

Then its eyes snapped directly to me.

It knows.

I barely had time to breathe before it lunged.

A blur of black fur and muscle burst from the trees. I flung myself to the side, just as massive claws tore through the space where my head had been. Leaves and dirt exploded into the air as the thing crashed into the ground, snarling.

I rolled, landing in a crouch, my heart pounding. My fingers closed around the hilt of my weapon.

The beast whirled toward me. In the dim light, I could finally see it—a hulking, wolf-like creature, its body stretched and distorted, as if something had twisted it into an unnatural shape. Thick, matted fur bristled along its spine, and its mouth—too wide, too full of jagged teeth—curled into a snarl.

It charged.

I barely got my weapon up before it slammed into me. The force sent me skidding back, boots digging furrows into the mud. Claws scraped against steel as I shoved back, muscles screaming. Its breath was hot, reeking of blood and rot.

My grip faltered.

It pressed harder.

I had seconds—seconds before it overpowered me.

With a desperate snarl of my own, I twisted my weapon, angling the blade—and drove it forward.

Steel met flesh.

The beast roared as my weapon sank deep into its shoulder, hot blood spilling over my hands. It reeled back, and I staggered away, gasping. My arms burned, but I didn't loosen my grip.

It wasn't dead.

And I wasn't done.

It came again, slower this time, favoring its wounded side. But its eyes gleamed with something dangerous. Hunger.

I squared my stance, breathing hard. My body ached, exhaustion creeping in. But if I backed down now, I was dead.

No.

I wouldn't die here.

I raised my weapon again. Come on, then.

The beast launched itself at me again.

I dove to the side, rolling hard into the mud. Claws raked the air where I'd been a heartbeat ago. My breath came ragged, my limbs heavy—but I couldn't stop. I wouldn't survive if I did.

It pivoted unnaturally fast, snarling as it stalked forward. My attack had hurt it, but not nearly enough. The gash in its shoulder bled freely, yet the beast barely seemed to notice.

I clenched my jaw. Think, damn it. I couldn't overpower this thing. It was stronger, faster—its sheer size alone made it a nightmare.

But strength wasn't everything.

The pitfall.

I had dug it hours ago—just deep enough to trap a deer, lined with sharpened sticks. Against this thing? It might not kill it, but if I could just get it to fall in…

Bait it.

I forced my breathing to steady. One wrong move and I was dead.

The beast's ears twitched as I straightened, lifting my weapon just enough to catch the moonlight.

Its eyes locked onto me. Its muscles tensed.

That's right. See me. Focus on me.

I took a slow, deliberate step backward. Then another.

It followed.

I turned sharply, breaking into a sprint. My boots pounded against the dirt, lungs burning as I tore through the trees. I could hear it crashing after me, snapping branches, closing the distance.

The trap was just ahead. A simple snare—thin wire strung between two trees, meant to catch a deer's leg and pull it off balance. Useless against something this big—unless I got it to trip at the right moment.

Five steps. I could hear it snarling behind me.

Four. My legs screamed, but I pushed harder.

Three. The trap came into view, barely visible in the dark.

Two.

The pit—it had caved in.

The rain from earlier had softened the dirt too much. The walls had collapsed, filling the hole halfway. It wasn't deep enough anymore.

I hit the ground on the other side, stumbling. Too late to stop.

The beast didn't fall.

It barreled straight over the pit, barely even stumbling before ramming into me.

Pain. A violent, crushing force knocked the air from my lungs. My body twisted, slamming into the dirt. My vision blurred, the world tilting as the beast loomed over me.

Its breath was hot. Rotten. Teeth gleamed in the moonlight.

My stomach dropped.

The beast barely staggered. The force of its lunge had carried it forward, past the trap entirely—and straight toward me.

I had no time to dodge.

It hit me like a boulder.

Pain exploded in my ribs as I was thrown backward. The world spun, sky and earth blurring together. My back slammed into something hard—a tree? I couldn't tell. Everything hurt.

I gasped, trying to drag in air. Move. MOVE.

The beast recovered fast. Too fast. I barely got my arms up before it was on me, slamming its full weight down, pinning me.

I choked back a scream as its claws raked across my side. Pain flared—hot, blinding. Blood soaked my shirt.

This is it.

It bared its teeth, ready to tear into my throat.

No.

My fingers scrabbled through the dirt. There had to be—there.

My hand closed around a rock.

With everything I had left, I slammed it into the beast's wounded shoulder.

It let out a furious, pained howl, jerking back just enough—just enough.

I didn't hesitate. Using the last of my strength, I thrust my weapon up.

The blade sank deep beneath its jaw.

A shudder ran through its body. Its breath hitched, warm blood spilling over my hands. The beast spasmed once—then went still.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then, with a slow, wet sound, I pulled my weapon free.

The beast collapsed.

I sucked in a shaky breath. My whole body trembled. My side burned. Blood dripped from my hands, my arms, my chest. My trap had failed. My plan had almost gotten me killed. But—

I was alive.

My heart was racing. I had survived. But at what cost? My body ached with every breath, and my mind swam with the images of the fight. Was this what it meant to survive? A hollow victory that left nothing but pain?

I forced myself upright, biting back a groan. I didn't have time to sit here. If that thing was out here, there could be more.

I had to get back.

One unsteady step at a time, I stumbled away from the body, back toward the faint glow of my campfire.

I had survived.

But just barely.

As I stumbled back into camp, Caden's voice hit me like a wave. His concern was clear, but there was something else beneath it, something I hadn't noticed before. His rushed steps, the way he caught me when my knees gave out—he wasn't just reacting out of duty. He cared. And for the first time, I realized it wasn't just about being comrades in battle.

We'd gotten closer—without even meaning to. The distance between us, the cold walls I'd built, had started to fade, replaced by something more... human. Caden wasn't just the guy I fought beside anymore. He was someone I could trust. Someone who was there. Without asking. Without hesitation.

It hit me in that quiet moment, when he helped me up, when his hand stayed steady at my back. I wasn't alone in this anymore. And that... felt different.

"Kael! What the hell happened to you?!? No wonder you took so damn long!"

I let myself collapse. The second I stopped moving, the pain hit all at once. My ribs throbbed with every breath, my muscles burned, and the raw sting of open wounds made my skin crawl. I barely had the strength to lift my head.

I forced the words out between gasps, telling him everything—the tracks, the beast, the fight. The failure of the trap. Caden scowled when I finished.

"You should've ran back to camp the second you saw it," he snapped.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I should have.

But if I had run, I never would have proven that I could do it—that I didn't need to be saved this time.

Eldynor was already at my side, working quickly to stop the bleeding and mend what she could. Some of the pain still lingered, but at least I could breathe without feeling like my ribs would crack apart.

Meanwhile, Caden and Finnian had gone to drag the corpse back. Finnian had caught a few rabbits, but it wasn't enough to feed the whole party.

For all the pain, all the risk… at least it had been worth something.

The night passed in a blur. I didn't remember much after Elyndor finished patching me up. I think I managed to eat, but the pain, the exhaustion—everything melted together until I collapsed into a restless sleep.

I woke up to the cool touch of dawn creeping through the trees. A slight breeze rustled the leaves, and for a moment, I could almost forget the weight of my body—the bruises, the cuts, the aching muscles.

But that didn't last long.

I groaned as I shifted, the remnants of yesterday's fight still throbbing in my limbs. My skin felt tight from the bandages, and as I slowly opened my eyes, the world around me came into focus.

The fire was low, just embers glowing softly. Caden and Finnian were already awake, sitting nearby, their faces lit by the dimming orange light.

My mind flickered to the night's battle—the beast, the trap, the desperate struggle. It had felt like a victory then, but now, with daylight breaking, I wasn't so sure.

I rubbed my eyes, pushing myself up with a grunt. The morning felt too peaceful compared to the chaos of the night. The birds were chirping, and the sun was starting to warm the air.

For a moment, I just sat there, listening to the sounds of the forest, feeling the slow burn of my muscles protesting every movement.

Caden glanced over, his brow furrowing as he saw me struggle. He was already cleaning his gear.

"You still alive over there?" he asked, trying to hide a smirk.

I managed a weak smile in return, but inside, I felt a mix of exhaustion and something else—determination.

Today would be different.

"Yeah, just barely." 

The morning truly was peaceful. I had never payed any attention to nature. It was always cruel and unforgiving, but now that I'm taking a good look, I feel like parts of me on the inside are being healed.

After everyone woke up, we set out for the Veilshade Ruins. It should only take roughly two hours to get there, now that we've reached the forest. I spent the time in the carriage cleaning the sword Vorn lent me. It was filled with blood and guts from last night's fight. It saddened me to see a part of my cape ripped from that monster's sharp claws. I just bought it too.

We eventually reached the center of the forest where the ruins were. The wind howled through the empty archways like the voices who once lived here. Broken statues, their features worn smooth by time, lined the entrance as if standing guard over the past. It was hard to ignore the numerous piles of bones stacking around the area. It was clear that some sort of monster group had been here. Since we were dealing with goblins, who sleep during the day and hunt at night, the place was completely quiet.

"They're most likely sleeping, so let's try to think up a plan to kill them all with the least struggle possible."

I stood at the edge of the ruins, scanning the area. The air was thick with tension as the others gathered around. My legs were still sore from the earlier fight, but this was more important. We couldn't afford to mess this up.

Caden crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the ruined structure.

"We're outnumbered, but we've got the advantage of surprise. We need to make this quick."

I nodded, trying to steady my breath. Finnian, looking uneasy as always, shifted behind Caden.

"But how are we going to get close without waking them up? I mean, goblins are… they're loud sleepers, right?"

I let out a small exhale, realizing Finnian's point was valid. Goblins might not be the smartest creatures, but they weren't entirely oblivious either.

"If we're careful, we should be able to slip by. We've got the cover of the ruins and the shadows. The question is, how do we get them to look away long enough to close in?"

Elyndor, as always, was calm. "If we're quiet and methodical, we'll have no problem moving in. But I don't trust them to stay asleep forever."

I ran my hand through my hair, pacing slightly. I needed to think. The layout of the ruins was in my head already. The goblins were in two clusters, spread out across the area. The best way to approach this would be from the north side—close, but hidden. The crumbled wall would give us cover. But I also needed a distraction. Something that would keep them from noticing us too soon.

"Finnian," I said, turning to him. He flinched, but I wasn't about to sugarcoat it.

"You're the quietest among us. You can make the least noise when you move. I need you to throw something to the far side of their camp—rocks, or anything that'll make noise. But not too much. Just enough to get their attention away from us for a moment."

Finnian's eyes widened as the weight of the plan hit him.

"Me? But… I'm not—"

I put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a firm but reassuring look.

"You're stronger than you know, Finnian. You've got this. Just make sure it's loud enough to grab their attention but not so close they'll charge at you. We can do the rest."

"Once that happens, we'll move in fast. Caden, Elyndor—you two need to take the high ground near that collapsed archway. The terrain there gives us an advantage if we need to move quickly or regroup."

Caden gave me a sharp look, his confidence evident. "I'll make sure none of them escape. If they scatter, I'll deal with them."

I let a small smile tug at the corner of my lips. Caden's optimism was reassuring, and I knew his speed would help keep the goblins contained if things went sideways.

Then I turned to Elyndor. Her silence spoke volumes, as always.

"Elyndor, I'll need you to help with the cleanup once we start taking them down. If any of them wake up or get too close, I need you to be ready to deal with them with that water magic of yours. If possible, try to create a water bubble around them. They'll die of drowning."

She gave me a subtle nod with a calm smile. "Understood."

The plan was simple, but it had to be executed perfectly. The goblins didn't know we were here, and if we moved with precision, they wouldn't have a chance to fight back. I could feel the tension building in my chest, but I was focused. I had to be smart—this wasn't about brute force. This was about outthinking them.

"We move fast and quiet," I said, glancing at each of them. "Once we've taken out the sentries, we sweep in and finish the job. We don't let them scatter, and we don't give them a chance to warn the others."

They all nodded, and with that, the plan was set. It wasn't going to be easy, but I knew we could pull it off. If we all played our part, we'd come out of this unscathed.