Chapter 88
Written by Bayzo Albion
I skinned the rabbits crudely, as best I could. Blood stained the soil, the metallic tang assaulting my nostrils, but it was the scent of survival, of grit. I skewered a carcass on a makeshift spit and held it over the blaze. Smoke billowed at first, then the skin crisped and darkened, releasing the savory aroma of roasting meat.
My gut rumbled thunderously, and I laughed—a wild, genuine sound that echoed strangely in the woods.
"So this is it..." I murmured, rotating the spit. "Surviving on your own terms. No divine power, no luxuries, no simpering courtiers. Just me against the wild."
The meat was tough, charred in spots, but I devoured it ravenously, like a feast fit for royalty. Each bite scorched my fingers and tongue, yet the pain mingled with a profound relief, filling the void inside.
I finished, tossing the bones into the flames, and leaned back. The forest hummed around me, its whispers less intimidating now.
I closed my eyes, granting myself a brief respite.
I lingered by the fire a while longer, attuned to the crackle of branches and the dance of embers. The woods stirred to life: wings flapping overhead, a mournful howl in the distance, fleeting shadows in the brush. But I faced it all with newfound calm. I'd eaten; I'd endured. A small victory, but mine.
Extinguishing the flames and gathering my meager belongings, I ventured deeper. The path had long vanished, feet sinking into moss, the air heavy with moisture. I walked without fixating on the flower—just moved to stay sharp, to keep momentum.
Then... ahead, two silhouettes flickered. Strange creatures—hybrids of wolf and lizard—darted across a clearing. I caught their eyes, wide with terror. They weren't attacking. They were fleeing.
I halted, brow furrowed.
"If even monsters are running..." I muttered, "then whatever's up there scares them more than I do."
A shiver raced down my spine. It was madness, but clarity struck: that's where I needed to go. The lily, this master-level prize, wouldn't bloom in safety. No, it thrived where even beasts feared to tread.
I drew a deep breath, patted my pocket to confirm the sketch's presence, and followed their trail.
The forest ahead darkened, condensing into something oppressive.
"Brilliant, Balthazar," I muttered to myself. "Marching straight into the place the monsters are running from. Truly inspired."
And yet, I advanced.
The deeper I went, the more palpable the shift. The forest transformed alongside me. Familiar sounds faded: crickets ceased their chirp, birds fell silent, even the wind hushed among the leaves. Everything grew unnaturally... still.
I spotted tracks on the ground. Deep paw prints from those creatures, claws gouging furrows as if they'd clawed the earth in desperation to escape.
Further on, things turned weirder. Branches and foliage, once vibrant, now wilted, as if the woods resisted some insidious force. Gray growths clung to trunks like fungi, oozing clear slime that reeked of iron.
And there, amid the rot, I saw it. A single white petal. Glowing faintly in the dimness.
My heart plummeted.
"The lily..." I breathed.
But instinct screamed trap. This wasn't fate's gift—it was bait.
I picked it up; it felt icy, like stone. Dread coiled in my gut.
If petals were shedding, the flower was near. I was closing in on the heart of this eerie silence.
I gazed ahead. The path plunged into denser thicket, trees entwined so tightly that the sky vanished.
"Well, Balthazar," I told myself. "You wanted to feel alive? Here's your one-way ticket."
And I took another step into the alien unknown.
Everything fell silent in an instant. No rustle of leaves, no chirp of birds, no distant hum of insects. The forest held its breath, the kind of stillness that pressed down on you, making your ears ring with the weight of it. It wasn't peaceful—it was oppressive, unnatural, like the world had paused mid-breath, waiting for something to shatter the void.
I stepped out onto a small clearing and froze. Before me rose a gentle hill, blanketed in pristine white lilies. They stood in perfect symmetry, as if planted by some obsessive hand with a ruler for measure. Not a single petal wilted or torn, not a stem bent out of place. They looked carved from marble, too flawless, too lifeless. As if they were waiting—not blooming, but anticipating.
And there, lurking in the deep shadows of the trees, sat... something.
It was massive, shrouded in thick black fur like a gorilla born from the darkest nightmare. But where a face should be, there was only a smooth, gray oval. No eyes, no mouth, no ears—just an absolute void. It didn't move, yet I could feel its dominance over this place. Even the lilies stood rigid, untouched by any breeze, as if the wind itself feared to intrude.
My heart pounded so loudly I swore it would echo through the silence, betraying me. But nothing happened. The creature remained still, oblivious. *My frail body...* the thought flickered in my mind. *It probably doesn't even see me as a threat.*
Cautiously, like I was sneaking up on death itself, I took a step forward. Then another. Each breath came ragged, shallow, as if my lungs dared not disturb the hush. I dropped to my knees before the flowers. Up close, they were even more eerie: snow-white petals, sleek and cold to the touch, each veined with a faint blue line down the center, like strokes from an otherworldly brush. I reached out and plucked one.
Silence.
Nothing stirred. The beast sat like a statue, unmoved.
Emboldened, I straightened and reached for another. *Just one more... for good measure?*
That's when the air trembled. The forest itself seemed to shudder.
The creature stirred. Its faceless head turned slowly toward me.
I went rigid, ice flooding my veins, chilling me to the core.
It rose.
*Shit.*
I didn't wait. I spun on my heel and bolted, my weakened legs protesting every stride. Branches whipped at my face like vengeful claws, drawing thin lines of blood. My hands grasped at bushes for balance, roots snagged my feet, sending me stumbling. But I didn't stop—I couldn't.
Behind me, no footsteps echoed. No growl, no pursuit I could hear. Yet I felt its gaze, heavy and viscous, boring into my back like a physical force.
The forest turned hostile, a maze of traps. Every root rose to trip me, every low-hanging branch reached out to snag my clothes. I fell hard, skinning my knees on jagged stones, tearing my palms raw on thorny undergrowth. Blood mingled with sweat, stinging fiercely, but I hauled myself up each time, driven by pure terror. My chest burned, lungs heaving in desperate gasps, heart slamming like a war drum. Exhaustion clawed at me, but worse was the certainty: it was there, shadowing me in that suffocating quiet.
I didn't hear it breathing or padding after me. But it was close. In the thick silence, I could almost sense its blank head tilting, observing—not with eyes, but with some incomprehensible awareness that made my skin crawl.
Every time I dared slow, even for a heartbeat, the shadows to my side would twitch. And I'd force my legs onward, muscles screaming in protest. *It's toying with me,* the realization hit like a punch. *Waiting for me to collapse. Waiting for me to give up.*
I was close to breaking. My legs felt like lead weights, throat raw with the metallic tang of blood, vision blurring at the edges. I could picture it—tumbling to the ground, unable to rise, the creature finally closing in.
But then... the forest began to awaken.
A faint rustle stirred the leaves. Birds resumed their songs, tentative at first, then bolder. Insects buzzed in the distance. The world breathed again.
I burst onto a narrow glade, collapsing face-first into the damp grass. I lay there, cheek pressed to the cool earth, gasping as the icy grip of fear slowly thawed. My body trembled, adrenaline ebbing away, leaving me hollow and spent.
I had survived.
The creature hadn't followed beyond its domain.
I squeezed my eyes shut and laughed—a hoarse, ragged sound bordering on madness. Relief flooded me, mingled with lingering dread, the absurdity of it all bubbling up from deep within. I'd been inches from oblivion, and here I was, alive.
In that moment, I realized: sometimes weakness was a gift. It let you slip through unnoticed. The key was knowing when to run.
With a deep breath, I pushed myself up, the single lily safely tucked in my pocket like a hard-won trophy. As I trudged onward, the air shifted—crisper, more vibrant, as if the forest exhaled in unison with me. And there she was.
The Forest Queen stood amid the trees, nature itself parting like a curtain to frame her. She wore nothing, her form veiled only by dappled light and shadow, leaves whispering against her skin, wind teasing strands of hair like living vines. Her every movement was a graceful dance, fluid and mesmerizing, as if the earth itself moved to her rhythm.