The Tower King

They walked in silence, first on marked trails that wound between the trees, then on paths that became less and less distinct, until the trail disappeared completely. The forest enveloped them. Dense, deep, rustling with invisible life. The sun, already high in the sky, filtered through the foliage, casting shifting patterns of light on the ground.

Sora walked confidently, though a little tense. With his bag on his shoulder and the new blade tapping softly against his hip with each step, he felt his heart beating calmly but alertly. This time, there would be no roof. No fire ready to use. No Elwen to cook him dinner.

Well... yes. She was there, walking just behind him, silent but present.

"We're far enough," she said after a moment. "If you want to set up camp, now's the time. Further on is their land."

"Theirs?"

She nodded toward the thicker woods. "The Rakmars. Packs of woodland dogs. Fast. Organized. And hungry."

Sora frowned. "I've never heard of them."

"That's normal. They live deep in the forests and don't come near the villages. And it's better that way."

He stopped, glancing around. "Are they that dangerous?"

Elwen stopped in turn, a little back. "Alone, they are already fast and aggressive. But they never hunt alone. They are pack beasts, organized, precise. Once they spot you, they hunt you down until you fall from exhaustion."

Sora nodded slowly. "Do you think I could handle it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I've never seen you fight. And you, you've never seen a Rakmar. So for now, it's better to avoid."

A slight grin appeared on Sora's face as he was already considering going to confront one of these creatures to compete with her.

Elwen surveyed the surroundings: thick roots, some mossy rocks, a ledge a little higher up which dominated a small stream. The place was perfect. "We're settling here."

They deposited the few things they had taken and began to activate without a word, like two cogs already well-oiled. Sora picked up a few dead branches while Elwen cleared an earth circle, raking the wet leaves of the ground to set a fire. She built a makeshift shelter with twigs and an old, worn-out tablecloth, big enough for both of them, but spartan: it would not protect them from attack, only rain and wind.

The sun was slowly sinking, drowning the foliage in a golden light that danced between the trunks. The birds were becoming rarer, replaced by discreet rustles at ground level and distant crackling in the thickets.

Sora knelt, handing a handful of twigs to Elwen who carefully arranged them between the stones. She gave birth to a flame using a flint and a piece of iron that she always kept in a pocket. The fire slowly took off, emitting reassuring crackles.

They ate little: some roasted roots and dried meat that Elwen had taken away. Nothing very nourishing, but enough to last until the next day.

The night fell quickly, draping the forest in a strange silence. A silence that was not empty, but tense, charged with invisible things that held their breath. Elwen had laid down, her back turned to the fire, wrapped up in her cape.

Sora, him, remained seated, legs crossed, the sword placed against his shoulder.

He looked up towards the peaks, from where one could only see shadows against the night sky. Then towards Elwen, asleep a few steps away. She had closed her eyes, but her slow and regular breathing betrayed her: she was sleeping for good.

Sora hesitated for a moment, then stood up in silence, added a log to the fire and walked away a little from the camp, just enough to have a clear view all around them.

He crouches down on a flat rock, the weapon on his lap, on the lookout.

He was not tired. Not really. His body, still warmed up by the walk and preparations, refused to rest. And somewhere deep inside him, a tenacious certainty had settled down:

He couldn't afford to sleep yet.

The Rakmars may not have been around... but he didn't want to risk finding out too late.

The forest was rustling around him, alive and moving. Every crunch, every wing rustle, every breath of wind between the leaves kept him alert.

He remained thus, motionless, watching over their fire as one watches over a fragile secret.

A long moment passed, punctuated only by the crackling of fire and the distant sighs of the forest. Sora barely moved. His eyes scanned the darkness, lingering on the uncertain shapes between the trunks, on the moving shadows that sometimes looked a little too much like silhouettes. But nothing came out of the tree canopy. Not tonight, at least.

He might have believed that silence would eventually soothe him, that immobility would calm his mind. But it was the opposite.

The more hours passed, the more his mind became animated.

He was thinking of the Rakmars. Of their fangs. Of their coordination. Of this methodical hunt that Elwen had talked about. He also thought about what it meant: if these beasts were so well organized, so disciplined... then they weren't just animals. They were hunters. Maybe even more than some men.

He tightened the grip of his sword a little more.

In the darkness, a tenuous but distinct noise made his head spin. A rapid, almost muffled crease. Nothing more. He stood still, holding his breath, eyes planted in the dark. Then... nothing. Maybe a squirrel. Or a night bird.

But his instinct whispered something else to him.

He straightened up slowly, flexibly, without making a sound, and returned to the fire. Elwen had not moved, still rolling in his cape. She was sleeping soundly, but not without suspicion.

Sora hesitated a little bit, then went around the camp, mentally tracing a perimeter. He picked up some stones, placed them in a circle around the camp, not to find his bearings, but to mark the limits of light. He wanted to know, at a glance, if something or someone crossed the threshold.

The cold of the night began to be felt, seeping under his clothes like an icy mist. He tightened his jacket around him, returned to the rock and resumed his position. Still awake. Always attentive.

Above him, the stars darted between the branches, silent and distant. The idea of being so small, so vulnerable, there in the middle of this green and dark immensity... almost terrified him. But it was not a paralyzing fear. It was a fear that sharpened.

A useful fear.

Then after a few minutes spent warming up next to the fire, somewhere in the distance, a solitary howl broke through the silence. Long. Serious. Distorted.

Sora didn't even blink. He was waiting.

The howl fades into the depths of the forest, carried away by the wind as a whispered threat. Sora remained frozen, his breath short, his ear tight. No echo. No response.

But that scream... it was nothing like a wolf.

It was rougher, hotter. Almost... painful. A distorted, distorted call, like an animal complaint strangled by something darker.

He glanced at Elwen. She hadn't moved. Either she hadn't heard anything, or she trusted Sora to watch over them, or she simply knew that if they were spotted, nothing would change the outcome.

He turned his gaze back towards the forest. The fire still crackled, gently dancing against the wind. The heat it radiated seemed derisory compared to the cold immensity that surrounded them.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Time seemed to expand, stretched by the tension that was twitching his muscles. Sora was not releasing anything. He listened. He watched. He waited.

Then, without warning, a discreet noise caught his attention. A crackle. Light, like a twig crushed under an overly cautious foot.

His heart quickened.

He did not get up. Did not make a sudden gesture. Slowly, he reached for his sword. His fingers closed around the guard. He no longer looked at the fire. He looked beyond, where the light ceased, where the shadow became a wall.

Another crack.

Then... nothing.

Sora narrowed his eyes. There, between two trunks, something had moved. He was certain of it. A low, furtive shape. Too big for a fox. Too quiet for a deer. Too lonely for a Rakmar... or was it the scout?

He kept his position, muscles tense, ready to pounce. He didn't want to attack first. Not here. Not without being sure.

Then, gently, the wind turned. And with it, a smell.

Heavy. Acrid. Wild.

Sora felt his stomach tighten. He knew this smell. It gave him shivers just thinking about it again.

He stood up with a bound, pivotally, and in a second, was near Elwen. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

She opened her eyes without flinching, as if she had never slept.

"We are no longer alone," he whispered.

She nodded, standing up with a fluid gesture, her gaze immediately turned towards the forest. She asked for nothing more. She also no longer needed words.

She grabbed her bow, which she had left within reach, and pulled an arrow out of her quiver.

"How much?" she asked in a low voice.

Sora stared into darkness, his sword raised. "One. Maybe two. But they are watching us."

She winced. "Rakmars scouts. If they're there, the pack isn't far."

They now stood side by side, in silence, facing the same darkness.

The fire, between them and the forest, created a flickering barrier of light, too thin to protect them, too bright not to betray their position.

Sora inspired deeply. "Nan... It's worse than that."

Elwen turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze searching the darkness. "How's it worse?"

He nodded, his breath short. "It's not a Rakmar. It's... a Nocturnal Hunter."

The silence that followed was heavy. He tightened his bow a little tighter. "Are you sure?"

"I've seen one before. A few days ago when I was in the forest. But it wasn't me who killed him. I just... survived."

A breath. Light. Almost imperceptible. Then two pale gleams arose between the trunks. Two eyes, high perched, motionless. Sora felt an icy shiver through him from one end to the other.

The Nocturnal Hunter advanced, almost calmly in his step, his powerful muscles rolling under his black ink-like coat. He was immense. More than two meters at the shoulder, a wide mouth adorned with fangs as long as knives, and soft, silent legs that left no trace.

Elwen banded his bow, visa without trembling.

Sora gulped down. He felt each beat of his heart like a drum in his chest. He forced himself to keep his composure.

"I distract him," he muttered. "Shoot as soon as you have an opening."

She nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the beast.

Sora suddenly rushed off, charging the monster head-on. A risky bet, but necessary. The Nocturnal Hunter leaps with terrifying vivacity, dodging the first sword blow with a smooth, almost feline movement before retaliating with a backhand.

Sora barely had time to lift his blade to deflect the attack. The impact threw him to the ground. He rolled to the side, panting, and stood up just in time to avoid the fangs that slammed in the air where his throat was a moment earlier.

An arrow whistled at that moment, piercing the beast's thigh. She screamed in pain, a guttural, inhuman sound, then brutally turned her head towards Elwen.

"Shit..." she blew, retreating in speed.

The Hunter leaps. Elwen dived aside, rolled into the fallen leaves and released a second arrow at point blank range. She ricocheted against the monster's shoulder, which didn't even slow him down for a moment.

Sora rushed, sword in hand, and aimed into the beast's side. But the Hunter noticed Sora and swiveled violently, hitting Sora with all his weight. He collapsed to the ground, sounded, his breath taken away.

The creature stood up, furious, muscles contracted, ready to tear the skin of its prey. She began to circle around them, slow, methodical. She knew they were weak apart, and was trying to isolate them. An intelligent predator.

"She analyzes our movements," growled Sora, barely getting up.

Elwen launched a new arrow, which the beast dodged with a leap to the side. It then jumped straight at her, its mouth wide open.

Sora yelled. "Elwen!"

She threw herself backward, fell heavily, the beast above her. She raised her arms, tried to block the face. The fangs closed on her forearm, piercing the flesh. She shouted in pain.

Sora arrived from behind, enraged, and planted his sword in the back of the beast's neck. She howled, let go of Elwen and turned towards him, furious. A paw hit his chest. He flew several meters further, hit a tree and fell to his knees, suffocating.

Blood was flowing from his head. His vision blurred and his whole body trembled.

Elwen was on the ground, injured, breathing with difficulty. But she raised her bow, despite the pain, a notched arrow.

"Sora, draw him towards you!" she shouted.

He staggered, straightened up by clenching his teeth. He picked up a stone and threw it with all his strength into the beast's flank. She growled, turned her head.

It was enough.

Sora didn't move, he was just trying to draw it towards him. He simply waited for the Nocturnal Hunter to get closer to him. He waited and channeled the Ushi of his weapon into his arm.

The beast rushed at him, all claws out, ready to tear the skin of its prey, but just before it could reach it, Sora released all the energy he had in his arm and used his skill.

The white veil hit the Nocturnal Hunter in a deafening whistling sound. The energy, concentrated and brutal, exploded upon contact with his face in a sheaf of light. The creature screamed, its scream echoing like a thunderclap through the dark woods. She was thrown back, scratching the ground with her enormous claws in a desperate attempt to recover.

The monster shook frantically, blinded and disoriented. A large red gash now barred his muzzle, his skin burned and torn where the attack had hit him. Dark blood was escaping from the wound, dripping to his upswept lips.

Elwen, still on the ground, saw the opening she was waiting for. She took a deep breath, ignored the pain in her bruised arm and visa.

"Now..." she whispered.