Chapters 5 & 6 (Patreon)

Chapter 5

The Green Hills Forest was restless that night.

Two figures cautiously navigated through the thicket. The first figure, tall and well-built, wore a short cloak. Its undersized companion trotted ahead like an animal despite a heavy burden on its back. Sometimes it got on all four legs and smelled round. Both wanderers didn’t need a source of light: the stars and the edge of the moon were enough for them.

Further to the south, a small deer was walking towards the stream. It moved slowly, stopped now and then, and raised the grass with its nose, picking up something from the damp earth. Suddenly the deer turned its head. Its big black eyes shone in the moonlight. It heard some sound it didn’t like, so it quickened its pace, disappearing into the dark forest.

From Maylud, a group of local residents entered the forest, making noise and waving lanterns. They scared away all the living creatures around them. The crowd thinned out gradually: people one by one left the procession and turned back home. Gusts of wind, coming from nowhere, seemed to be trying to stop the crowd. The wind howled in the hollows of the trees, bent branches and rustled the foliage of the surrounding trees. The old shaman, leading the procession, didn’t care about the bad weather. He only hurried the guy who was carrying a drugged limp body on his shoulder.

Losse opened her eyes. Almost immediately, she felt the prickly wood press painfully against her back. She couldn’t move her hands: a long strong rope encircled a wide tree trunk. Both ends were securely tied to the girls' wrists. When the dizziness dissipated a bit, she saw a thin shiny stream curling like a ribbon ten paces away from her. She immediately recognized the place — it was the Glade of Ancients.

The center of this place was a huge thousand-year-old oak tree. Its spreading branches made a wide circle. It looked like the tree was trying to embrace the entire glade, and the bright leaves rustled and whispered something to the wind. Under the tree were stones and wooden figurines with carved symbols. The flowers and herbs in the glade exhaled a fragrant scent, and the quiet murmur of the mountain stream evoked a sensation of calm and tranquility.

Here, in the Glade of Ancients, in old times the inhabitants of the Green Hills that believed in Gods gathered every summer to honor the ancient gods and spirits, and ask them for help and blessings. They made sacrifices, which became part of this sacred land. Every year fewer and fewer guests came there and thick grass hid the paths leading to the glade.

“Go home, son,” Elster told Yarlic. "You served your city well.”

Yarlic nodded and hurriedly walked towards the city. Passing Losse, he slowed down slightly.

“Sorry…” the guy whispered under his breath and broke into a run. He rushed straight across the stream, unafraid of the icy water.

Fully coming to her senses, Losse looked round the glade and realized that only the old man was sitting next to her

“What's going on here?"!“ She screamed and tried to free herself. Nothing came of it. The rope held her tight.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Peering into the forest, the shaman ignored the captive.

"Hey, you! Tell me!"

Finally, a hoarse voice answered her:

“I told your father you shouldn't be here."

" Of course I shouldn't be here! Unbind me immediately!"

Elster shook his head.

“You shouldn't be in the Green Hills woods, you shouldn't be in Maylud. You shouldn't be in the world."

"What nonsense!" growled the Kettu, gritting her teeth.

A gust of wind hit the old man, nearly sweeping him off his feet. Several huge acorns fell under his feet.

“That's what I'm talking about,” the shaman muttered and pulled out a crooked rusty knife from under his cloak. Blue runes lit up on the blade. The mere sight of this weapon evoked inexplicable fear in Losse.

“You think I don't know your little secret?“

With sudden agility, Elster made a flash-like stroke with the blade, cutting through the air in front of him. The next wind gust sounded like a cry.

“Vilin!” Screamed the Kettu, “Bastard, when father finds out what you have done, he will pierce with arrows both that ravine you call home and you!”

Her voice sounded desperate.

“Yes,” the shaman admitted and thoughtfully picked up an acorn from the ground. “The conversation will be… tough”
"When I get out of here, I'll help him myself!"

“If,” Elster corrected her words, “If you get out of here. Believe me, child, Maylud is closed to you. I told them such things that they would immediately bring you back. They won't even need my help. You'd better never return there!"

"You are an old snake!"

The shaman swung his arm and threw the acorn into the stream. With a loud splash, it plopped into the water and floated to the surface.The strong current swept it away.

“Wait here for your fate, Losse,” the old man said gloomily and walked away.

“Stop! Come back and untie me, bastard! You are a miserable stinking witch!“ The Kettu protested without mincing words.

When Elster's footsteps became indistinguishable, Losse's only had enough strength to produce another long and desperate cry. It echoed through the forest and then disappeared. All the living beings around also fell silent.



Chapter 6

Sunrise lit the heavens with its first rays. The early birds started to trill in the treetops. The fog born in the stream lived its own life. It grew thicker and rose like dough in a bowl until it brimmed over, spilling onto the grass as large drops of cold dew. This seemingly peaceful picture in reality only added fear to the young captive tied to the tree.

She realised that it was useless to scream, and she gave up the idea of escape. Every branch creaking or loud splash of water caused a new attack of fear. Losse broke out in a cold sweat when she heard someone climbing the oak tree trunk. “It’s just a big squirrel,” the girl tried to calm herself. She raised her head. Indeed, a clawed paw with large black pads appeared for a moment among the leaves. Losse sighed loudly and dropped her head on her breast. Her big foxlike ears turned limp and hung down mournfully.

Hearing the crunch of pebbles, Losse raised her eyes with difficulty. A young deer emerged from the fog. The animal sniffed the air cautiously, it looked like it was ready to turn tail and run at any moment.

“Hey... kiddy... what are you doing here?“ The kettu whispered, “You scared me.“

The baby deer came a little closer, it paused and its eyes surveyed Losse.

“Perhaps one of the locals will follow its trail and find me? How could it get to our forest?” - A hope dawned in Losse’s mind. She raised her head trying to remove a strand of hair stuck to her cheek. A crunch was heard again. But it wasn’t a branch this time. It was a distinct and loud bone crack. The deer shuddered and started to disintegrate. From the inside. Losse froze. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

It was a terrible sight: the charming fawn was turning into a nightmarish creature. Standing on its hind hooves, it dropped its lower jaw, revealing two rows of blade-sharp teeth. Its tail became longer, and a row of protruding vertebrae covered its ridge. The fawn's black innocent eyes disappeared, and another pair of eyes opened in their place. Orange pupils stared at Losse. She screamed, and tears flowed down her cheeks again.

A long, loud and sharp whistle came from somewhere on her left. The sound was fully unnatural for the sleepy morning forest. It forced the monster to stop and raise its horned head. At that moment, Losse realized that her hands were free: someone had cut the rope holding her in an unenviable position. She cried out in surprise and fell to her knees.

The creature standing in front of her came to its wits and tried to spring forward but failed since its monstrous paws were entangled in thousands of bright scarlet threads that grew from under the ground.

"Is it magic?" The thought flashed through Losse’s mind.

The immobilized monster growled ferociously, but the roar ended abruptly when deafening thunder came from above. Having broken part of the magical bonds, the beast recoiled and fell on its side, leaving long furrows on the ground produced by its claws. A suffocating sour odour hit the Kettu's nose.

“I'm re-char-ging! “ Someone shouted boldly right from the branches of the oak tree. A metal spring clattered.

“I’m holding it!“ Someone answered in the predawn darkness. The voice sounded vaguely familiar to Losse..

The creature jumped to its feet suddenly, but was hobbled again by magic. The threads entangling the monster's limbs glowed brighter, giving the surrounding fog an ominous scarlet hue.

A man appeared from behind the oak tree. He looked stressed and had his hands stretched as if he was holding the reins of an unbacked horse.

“Aim for the head,” calmly prompted the man.

“Nope, I’ll better aim for the heart!“ The shooter objected and jumped from the tree. His paws softly landed on the fallen leaves. Now, two men stood between Losse and the monster. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and stared at the strange couple.

She recognized the man on her right. A short while ago, this polite elf Daniel Sarto visited Memorial Hill. Among remote woodlands, he looked as unnatural in his pretentious garment and embroidered cloak as a rose in a bouquet of forest herbs. Nevertheless, his companion was even stranger. Being as short as a ten-year-old child, he looked more like a beast than a Kettu man. One could call his head covered with gray fur and adorned with thin long whiskers under a wet cat's nose a predatory muzzle. He wore a rustic studded leather jacket and leather trousers. He never wore shoes. He seemed to smile. An ordinary smoking pipe protruded from his bared fangs. Losse had read about people like him, and even had seen a picture that was a replica of an old engraving. He was a representative of Kskunit people: real beastmen, people who lived far beyond the seas, according to rumors, at the ends of the earth. In his paws, the Kskunit held an outlandish weapon, matching its owner. A rare and expensive thing they called a gunton. It appeared rough and unadorned, well-worn yet in excellent working condition, with a black wooden stock and a dark metal barrel to avoid any undue shine. The gunton fired large cartridges, resembling small pine cones, and operated like a single-barreled shotgun but with a modern revolver-style action. It was a one-shot weapon, designed not for precision but for devastating impact.

“Dan, I’m coming closer!“ The beastman warned, “Hold it tight!”

Daniel nodded and clenched his fists. Taking aim as he walked, the Kskunit ran up to the monster. On passing around the creature, he lowered his gun and shouted:

“I can’t! Lift it higher!“

The elf frowned with tension.

“Any other wishes? Maybe I have to make it dance?“

The Kskunit chuckled his disapproval, lowered his cat ears in a predatory-like manner and fired a shot. The monster roared but remained standing. Losse noticed the huge wound from the first shot on the creature’s shoulder had already stopped bleeding, and pinkish flesh was growing over it.

“Sahasharam!“ The mysterious phrase the beastman said sounded like a curse “I’m recharging!”

He pulled something out of his belt pouch and began stuffing it into his weapon.

“Let me help you! “ Losse suddenly exclaimed

Continuing to hold the spell, the elf turned his head and looked in surprise at the Kettu girl sitting at the foot of the oak tree.

Losse closed her eyes. The squally wind mercilessly tousled her hair and rushed forward.

“Vilin! Show them what we can do!“ shouted the girl, encouraging her spirits. “Attack him with all your might!

“Wait, what are you...” Daniel started, but the whirlwind's threatening hisses drowned his words.

The airstream raised a heap of leaves from the ground and, gaining strength, flew around the clearing.

Circling around the monster, it returned to the oak tree and hit the elf right in the face with all its might. Daniel took a step back but stayed on his feet. However, it didn’t help. A gigantic acorn caught by the wind hit the man right on his forehead, forcing him to reflexively cover his head with his hands.

“No-o-o!“ - cried the Kettu, “Not that!“

The wind died down in an instant and disappeared somewhere in the oak tree branches.