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I’m woken by the back of my head smacking against something hard.

Owwww!

As I try to drift back to deep sleep, my head hits something with a loud thud. This time, my eyes open a smidge, and I find large trees looming over me as I pass underneath.

Trees?

When did I decide to take a stroll in the woods?

As the sleepy haze falls from my eyes, I realize that I’m not walking underneath the trees, but I’m watching them pass by horizontally.

This is a peculiar dream.

Then, I feel something I hadn’t noticed a moment before—a pressure around my ankles, as an object is pulling me along the ground. The strange pressure changes as I feel the object adjusting its grip with a grunt.

No, it’s not an object, but rather a large… hand?

I try lifting my head; however, my body is dragged over a large hump on the ground, blocking my view of the hand around my ankle.

Something sharp strikes against my back as my body trails over it like a slithering snake, only for my head to smack against the dirt once more a moment later.

My eyes search my surroundings, finding roots jutting out from the ground by my head in various arrangements.

What in bloody Celestae is happening?

I attempt to move my arms, but they don’t budge from my sides.

I dare to lift my head once more and find that my entire body is covered by a thick rope.

It isn’t the rope that causes my heart to plummet, but the male-like creature that currently drags my body behind it.

The male is a little smaller than a Malvorian or Galrosan in height.

However, it’s the freakishly large hand wrapped around my ankles that causes me to panic.

The knuckles alone are the size of my head.

The back of the creature’s skull is elongated, with spear-like feline ears.

A lopsided, pointed hat rests on its head.

“Fearghal goin’ get uh pretty silver,” the male-like creature mumbles to itself in a grumbly voice. “Whud a pretty silver Fearghal goin’ make.”

I wonder if the supplies in the cave belong to this Fearghal that he’s speaking about. It’d certainly explain why they were left in an abandoned cave, but surely one of the Cadre would’ve?—

Wait.

Where is the Cadre?

Where’s Emyr?

I glance side to side, seeing if any other creatures like this one are dragging them as well. I let out a sigh of relief when I don’t see them, but then terror seizes me just as quickly. If they aren’t here, then I’m alone—Celestae knows where—within these woods… with this strange creature.

My body rolls over another large root that prickles against my spine.

However, this time when my head smacks the ground, I audibly yell, “Owww!” The bumbling creature stops, turning its odd head.

A pimpled and distorted face with small eyes and a large nose looks at me with a mischievous smirk as drool dribbles down its rotund chin.

I’m not sure which is more frightening: the hideous face or the fact that he looks like he’ll eat me as a midnight snack.

He continues dragging me along. “Well, well, well,” he beams. “Yer finally wuk up, girly. Dis makes Fearghal most ‘appy.”

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“Fearghal’s ‘ouse, girly,” the creature replies. “O’ whud a pretty silver Fearghal goin’ make.”

Well, this doesn’t sound good.

Either this Fearghal is going to sell me, or turn me into currency.

Neither option is one I’m willing to risk.

I attempt to wiggle a hand free of my bindings, but it’s no use. This… whatever he is… really knows how to tie someone up efficiently. I call for my starlight, but nothing happens.

Odd.

I try again, but I still encounter the same result.

My body is growing clammier with every failed attempt.

“Don’ even try, girly,” it says. “Oi tied ye up wid magic faerie rope dat even yer sterlight can’t break.”

Wait, what?

“How do you know about my ability… whatever your name is?” I inquire.

“Oi is Fearghal,” he replies. “Man wid muhney told Fearghal yer worth, girly. Promised Fearghal a silver to bring yer to ‘em. Gave Fearghal magic rope to tie ye up.”

Well, brilliant…

“What man, Fearghal?” I ask.

A shuddering sensation courses down my leg as Fearghal quivers. “One oi promised ne’er to speak ‘is name. Says yer needed fer some’fin important,” he grumbles.

Whoever this man is must be quite menacing if this creature even fears to speak his name .

“Whatever he promised you, I’m sure my companions could pay the sum tenfold,” I say.

Fearghal doesn’t answer.

“The Cadre will come looking for me,” I say a bit louder than necessary.

“Quiet now, girly,” he grumbles, giving my ankle a slight tug. “Dat lot was snoozin’ like infants. Didn’t even ‘ear me grub ye. Sorry excuses fer guard dogs, those three.”

Three?

Only three of them were present?

Could the missing soldier be in the woods right now?

If not, what’ll happen to me once Fearghal hands me over to this man that he fears so much?

I refuse to let that happen.

Taking a deep big breath, I pray to Siorai this idiotic plan works.

“They’ll find me and skin you alive for abducting me, you bumbling oaf!” I yell loudly.

Fearghal stops moving, slowly turning a scathing scowl on me. “Whud yer call me?” he snarls.

“Bumbling. Oaf,” I say loudly, hoping someone might hear me.

Fearghal’s grip tightens, as he raises me upside down until I’m eye-level with his wart-ridden nose. His malodorous breath causes my stomach to curl. If I didn’t feel all of my blood rushing to my head at this moment, I’d vomit. “Oi’m not a bermbulin’ oaf,” he says.

Well, this isn’t going as expected.

Maybe if he’s angry enough, he’ll untie me and attempt to fight me for disrespecting his honor. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot I currently have before I’m sold to this mysterious buyer.

“My mistake,” I reply. “I meant to say pungent buffoon .”

Fearghal’s hand connects with my face; the sound cracks loudly, reminding me of rolling thunder.

Stars dance in my vision as the sting radiates through my jaw.

“Oi changed my mind,” Fearghal declares, walking over to a nearby tree.

“Oi ain’t gun give yer o’er to dat bloody Malvorian prick. Oi goin’ make a decent meal out ye.”

I’ve made this situation so much worse.

He drops me on the ground, the impact radiating through my neck and back as gnarled roots dig into my flesh.

Fearghal pulls a spare rope out of his belt satchel, looping it over a thick, hanging branch.

Once it’s secured, he attaches the loop to my feet.

With barely any effort, he tugs on the rope, leaving me suspended upside down in midair.

I attempt to loosen the rope, get a hand free, or do something productive, but nothing is working.

“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

Surely, one of the bloody Galrosan men heard it….

Unless they’re too far away.

Fearghal licks his lips. “Quiet, girly,” Fearghal says.

He pulls a pearly white knife from a hidden sheath, flipping it in the low glow of the dawn.

“My last ‘ostage screamed fer hours,” he continues.

I squint, examining the weapon, and realize that the handle is made of chiseled bone.

My blood runs cold. “Don’ worry, girly. Fearghal ‘ill make sure yer death is quick.” He steps closer, grabbing my face with only two fingers.

I close my eyes, feeling his repulsive breath floating over my skin.

“Lerk at me,” he commands. “Fearghal wants tu see yer eyes when oi drain the life from ye.”

I slowly open them, only to find him mere inches from my face.

A wicked smile graces his lips. “Dat’s better,” he replies.

For a moment, his grip on my chin loosens, giving me the opportunity to slam my head into his with a sickening thwack and crunch of bone.

Fearghal rears back in pain, a hand clutching his nose.

I feel something dripping down my throbbing temple, and I just pray it isn’t his blood.

I squirm and fight against my restraints as I scream out for the Cadre.

The woods remain still as Fearghal makes some sort of animalistic sound as he slices his blade against my cheek, drawing blood. I yelp in pain as he tastes the stain coating his weapon. “Yer full of secrets, aren’t ye, girly,” he croons .

Someone, something, anything—help me, I pray.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean,” I reply.

“Yer blood sings the truth ter ol’ Fearghal,” he says. “Unfortunately, oi must still eat yer cause ye called me such vile names. Oi think Fearghal shall finally ‘ave a full belly.”

“Someone help!” I yell.

The gawking creature merely laughs as he twirls his blade. “Nighty-night, girly,” Fearghal drawls.

He lifts his knife when a loud growl echoes around us.

The strange male-creature drops the weapon, backing away slowly.

From behind me a looming shadow towers above, casting us in further darkness.

The unseen creature growls once more, and relief courses through me as I recognize the sound.

Fearghal is doubling back, stuttering all the way.

“It’s a… It’s a—” he mumbles. Suddenly a razor sharp claw slices through the thick ropes that have bound me.

As I fall to the woodland floor, its massive, skeleton-like hand catches me, setting me gently on my feet.

“You might want to run,” I say coolly. “I believe he isn’t too fond of your violence against an innocent.” My protector growls in agreement. A smirk crawls along my face as Fearghal looks from me to the creature in shock and fear. Then, he’s running and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Thank you,” I say to the towering Eitcham. “Enjoy your meal.”

The Eitcham hesitates no longer, leaping over my body.

Fearghal desired to trade me, then to harm me. Now the only sound these woods will hear are his screams.