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A low growl rumbles through the night. My heart almost stops beating as I stare into the two glowing eyes piercing the darkness, staring right at us. I can see the same intelligence as the hydralisk in those eyes, and the realization that it must be another altered monster makes my body shiver.

Darian, however, remains calm. He shifts to block my line of sight, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword.

As the monster fully emerges from the shadows, its unholy form—a mix of wolf and bear—is revealed.

Like a nightmare made real, it is enormous, with dagger-like teeth, and its eyes burn brightly with a feral hunger.

Before I can even blink, the beast charges, jaws snapping. Darian shoves me with a brutal, sudden push that sends me sprawling. He roars and meets the charge head-on. His sword clangs against the creature’s skull, the sound echoing sickeningly. The impact throws him back, but he holds his ground.

Bellowing its own enraged roar, the beast lashes out with a paw the size of a boulder. A choked-off cry stays trapped in my throat as it connects with Darian’s shoulder, and I freeze in terror. Somehow, Darian shakes off the pain and swings his sword again.

The monster’s hot, fetid breath carries the stench of decay, and its snarls are deafening.

But Darian seems impossibly calm, each strike of his sword precise, each movement calculated.

It would be beautiful, this deadly grace, if my heart wasn’t trying to pound its way out of my chest, if every fiber of my being wasn’t screaming at me to run.

The monster, with cunning that surpasses that of any ordinary animal, shifts its tactics.

No more blind charges. It circles Darian, like a predator sizing up its prey, those intelligent eyes locked onto him with a chilling focus.

Sensing the shift, Darian mirrors the movement, raising his sword.

My body is almost vibrating with tension as I wait for the beast to attack again.

Without warning, the monster lunges, its jaws aiming low, snapping viciously at Darian’s legs. Darian sidesteps just in time, as his sword meets yielding flesh on the creature’s exposed flank. A raw, agonizing howl tears from the beast as it stumbles.

For a fragile, desperate instant, I feel hopeful that the worst is over…

But the monster twists sideways so suddenly that it is beyond any ordinary animal, and slams Darian back against a tree, pinning him there. A strangled cry escapes my lips as the monster pivots and aims for Darian’s head…

With the agility of a warrior at the absolute peak of his craft, Darian manages to react fast enough to ram his sword into its gaping maw, forcing its razor-sharp teeth only inches away from his face.

He tries to push the beast away, but the creature is too strong, a nightmare of brute force. I can see the strain in Darian’s arms, the tendons standing out like cords. He is trapped, and the beast’s jaw, dripping with saliva, inches closer and closer to Darian’s face.

There is no way he will win. It is over. Gods…

No!

Something snaps in my head. Instinct, raw and primal, surges through me, shattering the ice of my fear. A roar tears from my throat, a sound I barely recognize as my own, as I launch myself at the creature, daggers drawn.

I manage to bury my blade in its flank with all the strength left in my body. The beast bucks with a deafening roar of pain and rage. Its eyes, burning with hatred, swing to me.

For one terrifying instant, I am the sole focus of its attention. But that instant is all Darian needs. With a guttural cry, he drives his sword not just into its neck but through it.

The monster shudders with a colossal tremor and then… stillness. The mortal danger, so overwhelming just moments before, vanishes, leaving behind a ringing silence and the pounding of my own heart.

Exhausted, hungry, and shaking, I crumple to the ground, drenched in sweat. The only sounds are my own heavy breathing and the wind’s mournful howl. Darian checks the creature, making sure it’s really dead, before turning to me.

“Are you hurt?” He kneels in front of me and holds my arms.

I shake my head, but before I can say anything, as if the gods could not grow more hostile, the heavens open, unleashing a torrent of rain on our heads. It’s instant and merciless, and in only a few moments, it changes the earth into a dangerous mire.

Drenched by the rainstorm, Darian helps me up, and we run to the hut for cover. The cottage is a single room: a bed, a chest, a table, and a hearth. I shake like a leaf, and my body shrieks to flee this hideout. “We can’t stay here. We’re running out of time.”

Darian holds me in place. “Going out there now is to court death. We can’t see a thing, and the ground’s a slippery mess. One wrong step, and we’ll fall to the bottom of the mountain.”

Even though I know he is right, I growl in frustration. “Time slips through our fingers, Darian! We don’t have enough time to return as is,” I shout, but my struggles against his strong hold are feeble attempts.

Is it fear, exhaustion, or hunger that pushes me to the edge? I can’t tell anymore. The terror that’s been clawing at my sanity through the night finally decides to tighten its grip.

My heart is beating wildly. I squeeze my eyes shut against the walls closing in when I feel a warm shield enveloping me.

Darian’s arms fold around me, pressing me against him, and his touch is soft and caressing, cutting through the fog.

He speaks softly into my ear, “It’s all right, Arien. It will all be alright. I’m here.”

The rhythm of Darian’s heart against my chest serves as a grounding cadence.

His warmth washes over me in gentle waves.

In just a few moments, the room begins to expand, and the walls seem to recede.

The air rushes into my lungs as I start to breathe more slowly.

My heart steadies, and gradually, the panic begins to fade away.

Darian holds me tight. His warmth is comforting against the storm raging inside me. His voice is a low rumble against my ear. “We’ll weather this storm, and when it’s passed, we’ll keep going. I promise.”

Only when I finally stop shaking does he gently break the embrace. “Let me get a fire going. Your body is freezing cold.”

He sits me in front of the hearth, then reduces an old, sturdy chair to firewood with a few well-aimed kicks. It’s not long before he’s gotten a sizable fire roaring. Uncovering a thick woolen blanket from the bed, he wraps it around me and moves me closer to the growing fire.

He finds two wrinkled apples and a dusty but sealed bottle of wine in the closet beside the stove, brings them to me, and places them within reach.

“Eat the apple and drink some wine. It’ll warm you up. You should then rest, Arien.” His voice is filled with concern.

I shake my head, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. “I can’t sleep, Darian. We need to leave as soon as the rain stops.”

Darian takes a deep breath, visibly making an effort to remain patient. “You won’t be able to walk if you don’t rest first.”

Refusing to meet his gaze, I wrap my arms around myself in a futile attempt to ward off the inner chill. “I’ll be fine. We can’t waste any more time.”

“To reach Jahanwatch, we need clarity of mind,” he speaks softly, and his voice is a calming counterpoint to my irrationality and agitation. He reaches out and gently touches my arm. “Rest is not a weakness. It’s a tool of survival.”

My gaze finally snaps up to meet his. “You haven’t slept either.”

“I’m used to this. In Izadeon, chasing monsters means ditching shut-eye for days on end. And I slept the first night from sunset to dawn, remember? I know you didn’t even blink while I was unconscious. Just have two hours of sleep, and by then, the rain will end, and we can leave. ”

We eat the apples in silence. The wine, when opened, warms my insides as I drink it.

As we share the bottle in turns, we don’t speak.

I stare at the fire, my thoughts consumed by the storm and the uncertainty of the morrow.

Even though my eyelids grow heavy, eager to surrender to the pull of sleep, the weight of our situation keeps me anchored to the present.

“What now?” I ask with a low voice, almost to myself. When Darian stays quiet, I continue, “If there is no village, and we cannot secure horses by the morning, our fate is sealed.”

“There must be a settlement nearby if there is a cottage here. Hope is not yet lost. You just have to rest, and we will leave to find the village when the rain is lighter.” His voice is warm, reassuring.

“The storm can rage forever, and we don’t know which direction leads to the village.”

Darian draws me closer. “I’m an Izadeonian. A man from the mountains, remember? I can find the village. We will find the way. I promise,” he murmurs in my ear, his hand resting on my back in a comforting gesture.

The weight of my despair feels like a physical burden, crushing me under its immense pressure. Darian, sensing the depth of my sorrow, gently pulls me across his lap and wraps one arm around my waist, as his other hand knots into my hair, caressing my head.

“I don’t want to go back to Firelands as a failure, Darian. I made a promise to Emmengar. I don’t know if I can break it.” I choke out, and the words catch in my throat. “I can’t… ”

“You won’t. I won’t let that happen, Arien. I promise.” His fingers move so softly against my hair.

Clinging to him, I bury my face in his chest and breathe him in. His steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, somehow calms me down once more.