The fresh ocean wind brushes through my messy hair, cool and sharp. Waves crash against the cliffs, spraying upward, and seabirds laugh somewhere in the distance…
All those charming sounds, and I can't even bother to look. The path ahead stretches far—a long, worn shore with cliffs on one side and forest swallowing the other.
No matter how I look at it, there's only one safe way back: the forest path filled with civilians. The same path I walked not long ago… though it feels like forever ago. Or maybe like I'm still there, wandering through that wooden trail.
My mind really isn't processing things right, is it?
Well… I gotta pull myself together. Otherwise I'm dead in less than a blink. Probably.
Uhm… anyway, I should be getting close, right? Said it'd be somewhere along the shore. Could be really close… or stupidly far.
And on this terrain? Yeah, fighting's gonna be rough. Really rough.
It's all just open field—nowhere to hide, nowhere to slip away… I really have no clue on how I will stay alive.
But I should not think about that, there is no way I will turn back, no way I will not strive to at least gather enough money to stay alive… Even if I die, well… I'm already as close to dead as I can be. If I don't try or succeed, I'll die either way—no need to even think about it.
If I die, I die.
Now… it really is that simple.
…
..
.
I feel like passing out… collapsing, my eyes are zoning out, blacking out from reality.
What is reality? It all really is happening way too suddenly.
My body is still moving, my head conscious, but my whole body is in bad shape, and my face feels numb.
I feel like my vision is worsening every second.
As if it is disappearing—my vision, that is.
At least my ears are working. A bunch of noise… of what, I don't bother to know, and maybe I can't even hear where the sounds come from.
My smell, I guess it works… maybe.
I smell a wet dog—probably myself.
Not only that, but of course the metallic smell of blood lingers—unsettling enough that I'm not sure if I want to puke or not…
Even with my ears struggling to pick up the right sounds, something suddenly bursts, a sharp crack cutting through everything with a high-pitched sting in my eardrums. Before I can even process what it could've been, my clothes whip in a sudden gust of wind as a huge creature dives down.
It almost snaps me back to reality… somewhat.
I blink, confused. What was that?
I stop in my tracks and look around.
Far ahead, on top of a distant cliff, a figure stands—tall, broad, its wings stretching at least two meters to each side.
It stares at me with a deadly gaze. I should feel terrified, frozen… yet strangely, it doesn't reach as deep into my fear as I thought something like this would.
I stare back into the bird's—Eagle's?—deep brown-green eyes. The eyes of a hunter, locked onto its prey. There's a void in them, a hollow stillness.
My eyes?
Those of a tired guy who already knows he's about to die.
A fragile guy.
That's me.
This beast—an eagle-like creature—stands at least two meters tall.
Bigger than me, faster than me, stronger than me…
I suppose this is the creature the quest is about… Shit… I wish I could be a bit more lucky.
This thing looks like it could tear me apart in seconds.
It most definitely will…
As my thoughts come to an end, the bird slices through the air—diving straight at me, locked on.
Out of reflex, I somehow leap to my right.
…Could've been faster.
Something feels off—then the pain hits, and I realize why. Blood. A deep wound tears open along my arm, carved by the claw of this motherfucker.
Fuck… Fuck... FUCK… Piece of SHIT!
It hurts… Hurts… It hurts…
Even while my head's drowning in pain and panic, my body—this soon-to-be corpse—keeps moving, dragging itself farther from danger.
I force my focus back to the fight.
The deep brown-green–eyed beast hesitates.
Its gaze flicks between me and the blood staining the ground. Back and forth. Again and again.
…As if it doesn't see me as dangerous at all.
I take the brief opening to steady myself. I draw my dagger, bring it up, grip tightening as I set my stance.
Ready for the next burst.
Seconds stretch into minutes. Time slows to a crawl.
My heart stutters—racing one moment, then freezing the next, like it can't decide whether to run or give up.
However, that next burst doesn't come… not yet, at least.
Instead, the bird pulls its wings in and lowers its head, beginning to drink—no, scoop up—the blood soaking into the ground.
…Is it after my blood?
Or rather—does it hunt by the metallic smell? The heat? The wounds themselves?
I don't waste the chance. If I'm right, I have to act now.
I begin whispering a spell, barely loud enough to hear myself. I keep it small—controlled—using just enough energy to avoid collapsing on the spot.
I should be fine as long as I only create water.
Low output. Almost no power at all.
The spell activates.
I cast the spell… washing away the blood from my wounds, basically covering myself in cold water… at least the blood is slowly being washed away.
Then, without a moment to spare, I approach the blood-drinking beast—hoping to stab it from behind while it's occupied… one step at a time… a fight between staying quiet and not collapsing from exhaustion.
I bring my dagger up, steady. Closing in… closer. Almost there… Am I able to attack now? Will it fly away? Will I be knocked to death the moment the tip of my weapon connects to its skin?
The blade pierces—and a loud cry breaks out. My ears feel numb, my head spinning. The only part of me holding tight is my hand around my weapon. I twist it, and blood comes leaking out, covering the beautiful colors of the bird.
As if it couldn't get any worse, I'm flung to the side. The massive creature takes its time rising into the air, dragging its bleeding wing as the cry continues.
The moment my head comes somewhat back to its senses… the only senses I have left, I'm running. Running and running, a two-meter-tall fuck hovering after me.
How am I even still going?
I feel like I should be dead already.
Yet I'm still moving.
Determination?
Or stupidity?
No idea.
The terrain begins changing slowly. I'm approaching rockier ground—towering cliffs start appearing. Guess my vision didn't work well enough to even notice the shift earlier.
My shoulder bumps into a rocky edge, my feet slamming into something along the way… but I keep running. Not necessarily toward survival—more like trying to recover enough to get back at that piece of shit.
I'll kill it.
I don't care if I die, honestly. I just want to injure this motherfucker. Kill it, if I can.
This is good… that fat shithead can't move around or attack me as easily here.
Then again—same goes for me.
I've got no real way to reach it either.
"Heyy… co—" I try to call out.
"Come dow—"
Fucking shit. My words aren't coming out as planned. My speech's not in good condition… that's for sure.
Though it doesn't matter. Honestly, this is great.
No matter what, right now I feel alive… or dead? I don't know.
FAT FUCK, JUST COME DOWN ALREADY!
LET ME TEAR YOUR GUTS OUT.