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T he lagoon erupted in a violent explosion of water as a monstrous form surged from the depths, sending waves slamming onto the shore. A guttural hiss rattled through the clearing, primal and menacing.

Vivienne’s breath caught as she beheld the creature—a Zhalak. She’d seen illustrations of it in the Anthology of Legendary Creatures, but she never considered they existed outside the realm of myth.

The monstrous reptilian stood taller than any horse, its elongated head tapering into a snout lined with rows of gleaming, serrated teeth. Iridescent blue-green scales shimmered in the sunlight, shifting like liquid metal as it moved. A serpentine body rippled with muscle, its powerful limbs ending in curved talons that carved furrows into the damp earth.

“GET BACK!” Owen roared, steel ringing as he unsheathed his sword.

The Zhalak struck with terrifying speed, its massive jaws snapping inches from Vivienne’s face. The force of the near-miss sent a burst of hot wind against her skin, the snap of its teeth cracking through the air like lightning.

Cirrus was already moving. His cutlass gleamed in an arc of silver as he threw himself between her and the beast, the sharp clash of metal against fangs ringing through the clearing. The creature reared back, hissing, its predatory gaze shifting toward the man who dared to challenge it.

"Move! NOW!" Cirrus barked, shoving Vivienne toward Lewis.

She scrambled backward, gripping Lewis's arm as they staggered away. Cirrus and Owen fought like twin blurs of steel and instinct, ducking and slashing as the Zhalak snapped and charged.

“At least it’s stuck in the water,” Lewis panted. “Right?”

The words had barely left his lips when the Zhalak coiled its body, muscles tensing like a spring. With a powerful thrust of its limbs, it launched itself from the lagoon, water cascading from its glistening scales.

It landed on solid ground.

“WELL, SHIT,” Lewis gasped, staggering backward.

Vivienne’s heart thundered against her ribs. It shouldn’t be able to move like that! The creature’s long, muscular legs propelled it forward in a blur, a nightmarish fusion of snake and panther, deadly and impossibly fast.

“GO!” Owen bellowed. “HIGHER GROUND—NOW!”

Vivienne seized Lewis’s wrist, yanking him toward the mountainside. The terrain was uneven, loose rock crumbling beneath their scrambling hands and feet as they clawed their way up. Below them, Cirrus and Owen stood their ground, steel flashing as they battled the monstrous predator.

The Zhalak’s scales shimmered, shifting colors to match its surroundings. Its edges blurred, a living mirage against the rainforest’s emerald backdrop.

It lunged.

Owen barely sidestepped in time, the creature’s jaws snapping shut near his arm.

Cirrus struck, his cutlass carving a deep gash along the beast’s side. The Zhalak hissed, coiling back before pouncing again, unrelenting.

This isn’t working. They were barely holding it at bay. Vivienne’s mind raced. They couldn’t outrun it. They couldn’t overpower it. A spark of an idea ignited—the hallucinogenic flowers sneezing their vivid pollen into the air. That could work.

She dashed down the mountainside, ripping her handkerchief from where it was tied to her pack, and sprinted past Cirrus and Owen.

"Vivienne, NO!" Cirrus roared.

Owen tried to grab her, but she slipped past, narrowly avoiding the Zhalak’s tail as it whipped around, gouging deep trenches into the ground.

"Keep it distracted!" she commanded, wrapping the handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

Without waiting for a response, she lunged toward the vibrant, oversized flowers lining the clearing’s edge. With one swift slash of her dagger, she cut through their thick stalks, releasing their overwhelming, saccharine scent.

Behind her, Cirrus and Owen shouted, but she was already moving—arms full of the vivid blooms.

Vivienne skidded to a stop just behind Cirrus and Owen.

“What are you doing?” Cirrus yelled.

“Trust me! Move back. NOW!” she shouted.

Owen glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he realized what she carried. He yanked Cirrus backward, clearing the path for her.

She ran forward and slammed the flowers onto the ground between her and the beast. A thunderous explosion of neon-orange pollen erupted into the air, swirling in thick, shimmering clouds.

The Zhalak inhaled. It froze. Its slitted eyes narrowed, blinking rapidly as the effects took hold. The beast staggered, its powerful limbs shaking as its balance faltered.

Vivienne didn’t stop. She wielded the flowers like a hammer, banging them on the ground again and again, releasing puffs of pollen with each swing.

The Zhalak shook its massive head, snapping its jaws wildly at nothing. Its entire body convulsed, its tail lashing out in confusion, sending debris flying. It hissed—a strangled, disoriented sound. The monster reeled, its scales flickering erratically between hues as it lost control.

One final burst of pollen, and the Zhalak’s massive legs gave out beneath it. With a deep, guttural groan, it collapsed onto its side, half-submerged in the lagoon.

Silence. Only the murmur of the waterfall remained.

Vivienne stood frozen, her chest heaving. The pollen-coated stems fell from her trembling hands, her vision spinning from the minimal exposure. She jogged backward and ripped the handkerchief from her face, gasping for clean air.

Owen and Cirrus remained motionless, blades still poised as if expecting the beast to rise again.

"You... subdued it," Owen finally spoke, his voice an odd mix of awe and disbelief. "How did you?—"

Cirrus stared at her. His face was unreadable at first, then slowly shifted into something close to wonder. "You’re brilliant," he murmured. Then his lips curved into a slow, stunned smile. "Completely insane,” he added, “but fucking brilliant."

Vivienne let out a breathless laugh, her fingers still trembling.

Lewis slid to a rough stop beside them, wide-eyed and panting. "Okay, I know I had a different viewpoint, but… did you just defeat a godsdamned lagoon monster with a bouquet of flowers ?"

Vivienne swallowed a hysterical giggle, nodding. "Yeah, I guess I did."

“I’ve never been more proud of you!” Lewis made to hug her, but thought better of it when his eyes caught the lingering orange powder on her clothes.

Cirrus smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. "Back on the ship, I'm teaching you how to use an actual weapon. Floral arrangements aren’t going to cut it in a sword fight."

Owen sheathed his sword with a low, resigned sigh. “I hate to break up the victory party?—”

Lewis groaned. “Ugh, too late.”

“But we don’t know how soon the pollen’s effects will wear off.” Owen gestured toward the twitching Zhalak.

Cirrus straightened, his smirk vanishing. "Thorne's right. We need to move."

Vivienne took one last look at the beast—half-submerged, its massive chest still rising and falling.

Then she turned toward the mouth of the mountain trail. They had no time to waste.

* * *

The mountains loomed ahead, jagged spires piercing the storm-heavy sky like the fangs of the beast they'd barely bested hours before. A constant roar echoed in the distance—the waterfalls, their destination, their hopeful salvation. Yet, they remained frustratingly out of reach, hidden behind sheer cliffs and treacherous paths that offered no kindness to weary travelers.

Vivienne swallowed hard as she stared up at the ascent before them. The path was a cruel labyrinth of slick rock, crumbling ledges, and perilous drops. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, heavy with exhaustion from the relentless cycle of running, fighting, and surviving. The cool embrace of the lagoon was already a fading memory, lost beneath layers of grime and fatigue.

“We still have to climb this?” Lewis muttered, the usual warmth in his voice replaced by raw disbelief.

Cirrus, walking a few paces ahead, cast a grim glance over his shoulder. “It’s the only way to reach the waterfalls.”

Owen exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he studied the cliffs. None of them had the strength left for this, but they had no choice. If they wanted answers, they had to climb.

Overhead, the thick, brooding clouds broke. A wall of rain crashed down with a vengeance, soaking them instantly, transforming the already hazardous path into a slick nightmare.

Lewis threw up his arms. “Oh, fantastic! Just when I was wondering how scaling a death trap could be any worse—the gods decide to drown us.”

Owen ignored him, scanning the rain-slicked rocks with narrowed eyes. His bronze skin had lost its usual warmth, his features pale with a quiet tension. “Unfortunately, we don’t have another option.”

Vivienne pressed her lips together. He was right. There was no turning back. No easier path. No peace waiting in the rainforest below. The waterfalls—the answers—were above them. The only way forward was up.

“How far?” she asked, shielding her eyes against the downpour.

Cirrus followed the snaking path with his eyes, his soaked white-blond hair clinging to his jaw. “Hard to say,” he admitted. “It won’t be quick. We’ll need to find a place to stop before nightfall.”

Vivienne’s stomach twisted. Spending the night halfway up a mountain, exposed to the elements, to whatever else lurked on this island? Her hands clenched at her sides. The constant battle to keep moving, to stay ahead of the dangers snapping at their heels, had left her drained. Every time they gained ground, something clawed it away.

Lewis sighed, rubbing his temple. “And we’re running low on food,” he reminded them. “If we don’t reach the waterfalls soon, we’ll have bigger problems.”

A hand brushed her arm. Cirrus. His expression softened as he searched her face. “Are you alright?”

Vivienne hesitated before nodding, though the answer was a resounding no. “I’m exhausted,” she admitted, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Every time we push forward, something else tries to kill us. I’m starting to think the island itself wants us dead.”

Cirrus squeezed her shoulder, his warmth cutting through the cold, soaking chill of the storm. “We’ve made it this far,” he said, his voice low and steady. “We can finish this.”

She wanted to believe him. But what if they couldn’t? What if they died on this mountain? What if she never learned what happened to her parents?

Owen, ever practical, motioned to the incline ahead. “We climb as long as we can,” he declared. “Then we find shelter.”

No one argued. There was no point. There was no alternative.

They ascended into the storm.

* * *

The climb was brutal. Each step a test of endurance, each hold a gamble. The slick rock crumbled beneath their boots, loose stones tumbling into the abyss below. Vivienne’s fingers ached as she clung to the rough stone, her arms trembling from the strain. The rain was relentless, cold knives against her skin, making every movement more treacherous.

Halfway up, Owen slipped. His foot lost purchase on a slick edge, and he pitched backward, his balance stolen in an instant.

“THORNE!” Cirrus lunged, his hand snapping around Owen’s wrist just as he tumbled.

For a second, everything froze. Owen dangled over the void, his fingers grasping at empty air, Cirrus’ grip the only thing anchoring him to the mountain.

“Hold on!” Cirrus gritted his teeth, straining against the weight.

Vivienne scrambled forward, hands shaking, and grabbed Owen’s other arm, noting a pained grimace overtaking his face. Together, she and Cirrus hauled him back onto solid ground.

Owen let out a ragged breath, his face paler than before. “That,” he muttered, chest heaving, “was unpleasant.”

Cirrus smirked, though his grip on Owen lingered, steadying him. “Try not to do it again.”

The sun had all but vanished when Cirrus pointed ahead. “There,” he said, breathless. “Shelter.”

A narrow crevice in the rock face yawned open before them, dark and uninviting but dry. It was hardly ideal, but after everything, it might as well have been a palace. Vivienne exhaled, relief flooding her chest.

Inside, the cave widened into a spacious chamber, its walls worn smooth by time. The stone beneath them was hard, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it was safe. Within minutes, bedrolls were unfurled. Owen and Lewis, too exhausted for further conversation, collapsed into sleep. Vivienne lay down, tucking her knees to her chest, her eyelids growing heavy.

Footsteps. Then, the sound of someone settling beside her.

“Hey, Banns,” Cirrus whispered.

She didn’t turn, but she smiled. “Hey.”

Her feelings for Cirrus were a jumbled mess—a knot she had neither the strength nor the clarity to untangle. Years ago, she’d loved him fiercely, wholly, foolishly. If fate had been kinder, perhaps they’d still be together. Perhaps she wouldn’t have had to be the voice of reason, the one who shattered them before the world could.

But now—after all of this—what did it mean? She inhaled deeply, the scent of rain and stone and him filling her lungs.

“Cirrus…” she hesitated, forcing herself to be vulnerable in a way she never allowed. “Will you hold me?”

She heard, rather than saw, his slow exhale. Then, warmth.

Cirrus curled around her, one arm slipping beneath her head, the other wrapping around her waist. He pulled her against him, their bodies fitting together in a way that felt achingly familiar.

She inhaled the scent of leather and spice and home. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she felt safe.

Cirrus pressed a whisper-soft kiss to the crown of her head, his lips barely ghosting against her damp hair.

"Always," he murmured.

And for just this moment, she let herself believe it.