Page 19 of Bound By the Beast Man
CORVAK
W e are on the move again. The knowledge of the magical trace I carry on my shoulders, a constant, unseen threat that is far more terrifying than any physical enemy.
My senses are stretched to their limit, my eyes scanning the jagged peaks for any sign of movement, my ears straining to pick up any sound that is not the relentless howl of the wind.
I am searching not just for Purna, but for any sign of their magic, a shimmer in the air, a wrongness in the shadows.
It is an exhausting, unending vigilance.
Diana walks beside me, the faint, silvery ward she created shimmering around us like a heat haze.
The effort of maintaining it is clearly taking a toll on her.
She is paler than before, with dark circles under her eyes that speak of a deep and draining exhaustion.
A fierce, internal battle rages within me.
I need her to use this power, this Purna magic that I instinctively despise, because it is the only thing keeping us hidden.
Yet, every time I see her falter, every time I see the drain on her life force, a primal rage makes me want to forbid her from ever using it again.
I want to protect her from the very thing that is protecting us.
Our journey is harder now, more desperate.
I lead us away from the lower trails and into the treacherous high passes, hoping the difficult terrain will slow any physical pursuit that might accompany the magical one.
We move along a narrow ledge, a sheer drop to our left and a wall of icy rock to our right.
The path is barely wide enough for one, and loose scree shifts under our boots with every careful step.
The physical danger is a stark and constant reminder of how precarious our survival truly is.
I watch her every move, ready to catch her if she falls, my own footing as sure as the mountain itself.
She does not falter. Her focus is absolute, her determination a silent, burning fire that I find myself admiring more with every step she takes.
We are traversing a particularly dangerous section of the pass, the wind threatens to tear us from the mountainside, when I hear it.
My manticore hearing, far sharper than any human’s, picks up a sound that does not belong here.
It is the faint, rhythmic scrape of armored boots on stone and the soft, metallic clink of weaponry.
The sound of trained warriors; of a patrol. My arm shoots out, pressing Diana flat against the rock face. I move in front of her, my body a solid shield, and place a single finger to my lips. Her eyes go wide with fear, but she nods, her body instantly still and silent.
I peer around the edge of the rock outcropping that provides our meager cover.
A moment later, they appear. Dark elves.
There are five of them, moving with the silent, economical grace of apex predators.
They are tall and unnervingly elegant, their dark armor and long, curved blades a stark contrast to the wild, untamed landscape around them.
Their faces are cruel and beautiful, their expressions a mask of arrogant disdain for this world they believe is theirs to command.
My hand instinctively goes to the empty scabbard at my hip, a phantom ache for my lost sword.
They move closer, their voices a low, guttural murmur in their own tongue.
The wind carries their scent to me, a smell of cold iron and a faint, underlying wrongness that speaks of their dark magic.
One of them, the leader, stops. He lifts his head, his keen senses having picked up something amiss.
His cold, violet eyes scan the rock face, and for a heart-stopping second, they seem to lock directly onto our hiding place.
I remain perfectly still, my muscles bunched and ready to spring, to fight, to die to protect the woman trembling behind me.
My heart pounds a slow, heavy rhythm in my chest, a war drum counting down my last moments.
The dark elf’s gaze lingers, a slight frown creasing his perfect features.
Then, one of his companions says something, and he turns away, continuing down the path.
The dark elf patrol disappears around a bend in the path.
I wait, counting to one hundred, my body still a rigid shield over Diana’s.
Only when I am certain they are truly gone do I allow myself to relax, stepping back from her.
I look at her. She is pale, her knuckles white where she is gripping the rock, her entire body trembling from the proximity of the danger.
The encounter, as close as it was, has shattered the fragile sense of security her magical ward had given us.
The dangers of this land are not just the witches who hunt her, but the cruel masters who rule it.
I realize in that moment that I can no longer keep her in the dark.
She is not just a survivor I am protecting; she is a partner in this desperate flight, and she has earned the right to know the full truth of what we are facing, and why.
I help her from the narrow ledge to a more sheltered spot, a small, wind-scoured alcove in the rock face that offers a measure of safety.
Once she is seated, her back against the stone, I face her.
“Those elves,” I begin, my voice low. “They are the reason I am here.”
She looks at me, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. I take a deep breath and I tell her everything. I tell her of my home, Osiris, an island of peace and light. I tell her of the Zable Crystals, the lifeblood of my people, and how they are fading, threatening our entire way of life.
“My King sent six of us through a portal to Protheka on a desperate mission,” I explain. “To find more crystals and bring them home.”
“The crystals are here?” she asks, her voice a near whisper.
“They are,” I say, my gaze hardening. “In the caves of Northern Rach. Caves that are controlled by dark elves, like the ones we just saw.”
I watch as the understanding dawning in her eyes.
The full scope of our journey, the true nature of my own desperate quest, settles upon her.
She sees now that I am not just a lost warrior, but a man trying to save his entire world, a mission that seems just as impossible as her own fight for freedom.
A new kind of silence settles between us, but this one is not born of tension or mistrust. It is a silence of shared understanding, of two disparate, desperate paths that have now, irrevocably, become one.