This is no ordinary creature…
It is some kind of an altered monster. Instantly, I draw my daggers. But the moment I do, the monster’s tentacles lash out, quicker than anything I’d seen before, and wrap around my ankle.
I scream as it drags me toward the depths, my heart pounding violently against my chest. Panic surges through me as I flail my daggers in a desperate flurry of resistance. I know if I use my magic, I will lose consciousness and become an even easier prey.
Two more tentacles lash out, thick as tree trunks and slick with vile slime, wrapping themselves around my arms and legs. A new jolt of pure panic surges through me. I thrash wildly against the monstrous appendages, but the creature’s grip is unyielding. With a sickening lurch, I am dragged deeper into the cold water.
“No! Help!” My screams pierce the air, but I know there is no use.
It only takes a few moments for the water to close over my head and my lungs to start burning from lack of air. Fear fueling me, I claw wildly at the tentacles squeezing me, but their hold is like iron. My vision begins to blur, and the edges fade to black.
Gods, I don’t want to die here, swallowed whole by some nameless horror in this forsaken wilderness. I keep fighting until my limbs grow heavy, leaden, and the fight drains out of them. My lungs burn, starved of air, each desperate gasp drawing only more water.
As the last bubbles escape my lips, a strange calm settles over me. It is a surrender, a helpless acceptance of the inevitable.
So, this is it, then. The end.
Chapter Twenty-One
I am certain I have died. In my oblivion, I dream of a powerful hand grasping my arm and yanking me toward the heavens. The reality, however, hits me when I break the water’s surface, my lungs burning as I gasp for air.
Darian—glorious, charming, alive Darian—is standing before me, his sword raised against the monstrous creature.
The angry monster lashes out, but Darian, like the seasoned warrior that he is, manages to parry all its blows. In one final blow, he cuts into the creature’s main body where its heart should be, and just as easily as that, he sends the monster into a death-throes frenzy. The tentacles loosen their grip on me, and Darian pulls me to the safety of the riverbank.
My whole body shakes in terror as I collapse, exhausted, into Darian’s arms. He holds me tight while the creature, its life force ebbing out of it, sinks beneath the now-red surface.
Burying my face in Darian’s chest, I close my eyes and cling to him, trying to catch my breath, to ground myself, to steady the frantic tremors that still rack my body.
I almost died.The thought echoes in my mind…
I surrendered. I accepted death.
Darian’s heartbeat, strong and steady against my ear, is the only anchor, the only solid proof that I’m still tethered to the world of the living. I want to stay here, lost in the warmth of his arms, in the illusion of safety, forever.
However, the urgency of our situation makes me reluctantly pull away, and my gaze meets Darian’s. He’s pale, alarmingly so, and color is drained from his face. His breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps.
“What in the world just happened? Where are we?” he croaks, his voice rough.
“Come with me. Your body needs nourishment,” I say, trying to sound all commanding despite the tremor in my hands.
We walk back to the shelter where we rested last night, and I dig out some bread and cheese from my pouch, hoping it’ll make up for the hunger he must feel. Darian’s gaze sweeps across the landscape, and his mind seems to be trying to grapple with reality, but he accepts the bread.
As he chews, I tell him about my abrupt awakening, the snake bite, the potion’s healing, and the endless night. I tell him that we’re at an unknown location, that we’re running out of time, and need to move fast. I hand him the parchment, and his eyes drink the words. When he looks up, his expression is strange. It reflects… sadness.
“It doesn’t say we have to go back together,” he says in a small voice.
“Huh?” I say, utterly bewildered.
“It only says that we need to be back in Jahanwatch in two days,” he explains, looking at me as if I hold the key to all his problems. “You could have left me behind.”
I stare at him in disbelief, my jaw almost dropping. “Are you out of your mind?”
The thought of leaving him here, alone, in this wild place, seems as strange as the mountains around us.
“I owe you my life, Arien.”
His face is serious with a gravity I’d never witnessed on him before. It isn’t a comforting realization—it seems to sadden him, this idea that he might owe me his life. But why? We’re allies, maybe friends, or so I thought. Is it because he believes we’d already lost the trial and it was all his fault?
