Chapter 5: 5. The Shrine

- DILLON -

 

The noise is deafening. Arrows fly past my head in a streaky blur. I cannot peek over Roy's body to see where the pirates are hiding. I am not sure how many of my comrades are still alive. The arrows bury into Roy's armour, making me stagger. All I need is a glance. What do I have to lose? Suddenly, there is a small reprieve and the arrows stop. I stare ahead into the darkness and see figures hiding behind a bushes. I only spot a few. How can that be when I have felt dozens of arrows fly at me?

I throw Roy to the side and charge toward him, swinging my blade close. He has only a bow and arrow. My blade pierces his neck, blood spurts from his arteries and covers my hand. I turn and see Lux at a tree behind me. He charges a man to his left in a clumsy gait but manages to drive his blade into the man’s chest. He dies with a wheezing moan.

I hear my other comrades advance. The arrows come again, but they are few and far between.

"How many?" I mouth. Lux shakes his head. I am breathing hard, back pushed up against a tree. The arrows stop. Quiet returns for several moments. I breathe deeply and close my eyes, steadying myself, calming my rapid beating heart. My blood-slicked hands shake. A pair of footsteps run towards me, without hesitation, I spin toward the noise. My blade almost slices a neck but I see that it is only the wiry-haired Nessaz man. Mop.

"Woah!" He blurts, eyes wide. His hands are in the air. He almost drops his sword. "All clear." He swallows.

"What?" I shake my head. Was I mistaken? I look at the ground. Bodies litter the floor. A few Khronish men. A dozen of ours. There has to be more of them. I am certain. Seeing my unease, Mop pats me on the shoulder and nudges me forward.

"You were reckless, Dillon. You could've bloody died!" I see Lux's glare as he stomps toward me. I do not know what to say so I shrug.

"I never liked the guy, but did you have to disgrace him that way?" I see the look in their eyes. Life is sacred. But the man was already dead.

"Without his quick thinking, we would not have been able to advance!" The Nessaz man says, his voice shaking. "He took most of those arrow shots! His methods may be vulgar, but we are here now."

"No, Roy took those shots." Luxus shakes his head and walks away. I watch him go. I tongue the wound in my cheek and spit the blood on the ground.

"Captain says a hundred of our men went east to cover the coast. We don't know what is happening there." Mop says. I stare at the sweat dripping from his red mane. He is nervous as though this is his first battle. I never asked for his real name.

For the first time since we entered the forest, I look around. I hear the chirping of insects and smell the earthy musk of wood. It is mixed with the scent of blood and rotting flesh. It is humid here. I can taste the decay. The forest is dark and dense, I can barely see my own feet. It is a good place to conceal an army.

There are only thirty of us trudging through his dense nightmare. We hack down vines and poison ivy, heading towards the centre. Everything is eerily still. The Khronish must have retreated back to the shrine when they noticed our advancing troops. But something feels wrong. How did they retreat without a sound? Or was I mistaken? Was I too focused on the stream of arrows?

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We reach a clearing soon after. A large green lake with a dilapidated hut on an island at the centre. The wood is splintered and grey, as if it can collapse at any moment. This is the shrine. It is no larger than a commoner's hut— the sides of the structure are adorned with decaying chrysanthemum garlands and hanging red talismans. Part of the roof is caved in.

My captain stalks up to me and pats me on the back. "I want you to take five men and scout the shrine. I've picked the best. The rest will comb the area." A bead of sweat flies from his chin as he nods. There is a surety in his gaze. I want to take Lux but he is nowhere to be found. I do not know the names of the five men captain picks for me. I do not wish to know. They look at me with determined eyes. I hope I do not fail them.

The rest of them disperse into the thicket. The path to the hut is dry and crumbling, if you lose your footing, you can drown in that green sludge of murky water. The men are careful. I look for signs of people— footprints, sounds of armour, and voices. There is nothing but the steady rhythm of my own breathing.

I make my way to the entrance. The door is broken through with a small splintered hole at the bottom. It looks like a boar has crashed through the hut. Insects chirp in my ears, drowning out the sounds of my heart beating against my chest. I push open the door, my sword is gripped tight in my sweat-slicked palm.

The hut is empty as I step inside, save for an old brown blanket in the corner of the room. Part of the roof has fallen from decay and planks of wood litter the floor. I watch my step as I inch closer. The sunlight streams in from above, a golden ray of heat. I watch the specks of dust swirl and dance in the beam.

From my peripheral vision, I see darkness in the corner of the room where the sunlight cannot hit; it distorts strangely. I flick my eyes towards it. The blackness is deep, swirling and eerie.

"Dillon!" My comrade shouts, I snap my head to the sound of his voice but the broken door slams against its hinges suddenly, and through the broken wood, I see my comrades get knocked with a force I cannot comprehend. They land in the dry dirt, groaning.

There is no time to rush to them as a painful sensation of prickling heat dances over my skin, like thousands of needles coated in flame. I pant heavily, groaning from the rising pain. Sweat drips from my lashes, hindering my sight.

This is Magic. They have acquired an Arcana? Is it really true that these monsters exist? Men who can wield the powers of Angels? It can't be, they disappeared hundreds of years ago. I must be drunk.

But the pain gets stronger. I grip my sword and try to ride it out. I do not see where the Arcana is, there is nothing in this room. I shake my head, staring into the deep darkness, I try to take my stance but my legs are weak and my arms are heavy. I sense something is coming. The hairs on my body stand all at once.

A low rumbling from the ground echoes outside the hut. I snap my neck to the violent sound. Suddenly, black vines slowly break free from the ground beneath, crumbling and breaking through the dry mud. They are ominous entities which I have never witnessed before.

They dance upwards, entwining the legs of my comrades. They scream. It moves gracefully up their thighs. I see them stab and slice at the vines, only to slash their own flesh. I shout as I try to run towards them but the vines grab hold of my ankles, knocking me over. My blade slices my upper thigh as I fall.

I crane my neck in horror and watch the monstrous tentacles grow darker and larger. It grabs onto their heads, wrapping around their necks, muffling their panicked cries. And as slowly as it slithered from the ground, the vines starts to pull my comrades down into the dirt. I watch helplessly. My body is in searing pain and I feel as though I am about to burst into flames. I feel weak. Useless.

Move! I demand my body. But, the pain doesn't subside. My body doesn't listen. The forest is silent except for my panicking moans and the deafening sound of their bones crushing under the pressure of this creature.

I watch their bodies being swallowed. They make no noise. Their eyes are wide and lifeless as they sink deep into the earth.

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