The wind carried the tang of salt and mist, brushing Suren's long brown hair across his eyes as he crouched on the broad branch of an old oak. From his perch, he stared at the restless sea in the distance — churning silver and gray, whispering secrets he couldn't quite grasp. Beyond the water, hidden by fog, lay the Crossing: a place of legends where dreamers vanished into the unknown.
The stories all agreed on one thing — no one who passed through ever returned. His parents had been bold enough to try. They never came back.
Suren clenched his fist. He had promised himself not to dwell on that pain, yet it crept in like the tide. Today wasn't about the mysteries beyond the ocean. It was about the hunt.
Not for coins. Not for prestige. For proof.
The beast he hunted was no ordinary prey — a stag said to tower over men, its antlers like twisted branches, its strength enough to crush any hunter who dared chase it. To the villagers, the creature was a myth meant to be feared. To Suren, it was a challenge. A way forward.
The forest stirred. Leaves whispered.
Suren's sharp gaze locked onto the movement. The stag.
He drew in a slow breath, steadying himself, every lesson his foster father drilled into him echoing in his mind — patience, precision, respect. But his thoughts still strayed, as they always did, to the unknown. To the Crossing. To the possibility that beyond those waters lay gifts waiting for the ones bold enough to dream.
The stag raised its head. Its black eyes found his.
Suren didn't hesitate. He dropped from the branch.
He hit the ground running, closing the distance in a blur, and lunged. His hands caught the stag's rough legs, and for a moment he held on. The beast bellowed, bolting forward with explosive force. Branches tore across Suren's skin as he was dragged through the underbrush. He grimaced but kept his grip until instinct told him to release.
Not yet. Another way.
He chased, his body weaving between trees, lungs burning but mind razor-sharp. If he could get atop its antlers, force its momentum against itself, he might end this before it reached the cliffs.
The stag moved like a storm, each bound shaking the earth. It was faster than any prey Suren had hunted — a beast that had survived by being untouchable. But Suren wasn't like the hunters before. His life had been forged in the wild, sharpened by hunger and survival.
A branch loomed ahead. His eyes lit with sudden calculation. He sprang, catching it mid-run, and swung himself in a high arc. For a heartbeat he was airborne, then he released. His body shot forward like a spear. He landed atop the stag's horns, gripping tight. The raw power beneath him rattled his bones.
The stag thrashed, slamming through thickets. Suren's broken shouts mixed with the beast's roars. Pain raked across his skin, but he refused to let go. A cliff's edge appeared through the trees — sharp and deadly.
"Damn it, why won't you just stop?!" he roared, desperation cracking through his voice.
The stag veered, smashing its antlers into a tree. Agony shot through Suren's right hand as bone gave way. He almost fell. The world blurred with pain. But he grit his teeth, forcing his ruined hand to tighten around the horn.
Not here. Not now. Not Now. I can't afford to lose it
With a guttural roar, he swung himself to the stag's side, bracing his legs against its ribs, muscles straining. The cliff rushed closer. If he didn't turn it, they'd both die.
He pushed with everything he had, twisting, dragging the beast's head away from the edge. His body screamed. His vision burned. Then —
The stag leapt.
Wind howled, tearing at his hair, his clothes. Below, the town of Silver Shore spread like a toy village against the sea. Time slowed. Every heartbeat was a choice: survive, or perish.
The beast crashed down into the tavern. Wood splintered. Dust choked the air. Villagers screamed and scattered as tables splintered and lanterns fell. Suren clung, battered and bloodied, until the stag broke through into the cobblestone streets.
Three hours. That's how long the hunt had dragged on. Now, under the glow of lantern light glimmering on rain-slick stone, boy and beast galloped through the heart of Silver Shore. Suren's limbs trembled with exhaustion, but his dream — to stand atop the food chain — burned brighter than his pain.
"Someone call the damn village guards! That beast boy has brought an enormous wild animal into the town!"
Ugh, why do they insist on calling me that? It's starting to get annoying. If I don't stop this massive stag soon, it will destroy more of the village, and I don't want the mayor on my butt again. The already massive debt from Lafin that I'll keep paying till I die looms over me like a dark cloud, and I can't bear to see it rise even higher.
Suren's body was giving out, every muscle trembling as exhaustion clawed through him. Sweat and blood stung his eyes, his vision blurring as the relentless hunt caught up. His arms shook against the elk's reins, legs barely holding him upright, and each ragged breath felt like fire in his chest. "Ugh… shit…" he gasped, voice hoarse, thoughts slipping through the fog of fatigue. Darkness pooled at the edges of his vision, and with a final shudder, his body surrendered—limbs slackening, head drooping—until he collapsed against the elk, utterly unconscious, he slipped off but a drunken looking tall, muscular man caught him.
"ahh, not more damages to pay for"
Lafin groaned
perspective change
A dark, frigid dungeon filled with the scent of dampness and decay lay hidden beneath the town. Shadows danced in the corners where the light dared not reach, and scurrying rats could be heard amidst the debris. From the top of the crumbling stone steps, the unmistakable sound of a key clattered and twisted, desperately seeking its lock. With a satisfying click, the mechanism yielded, and a soft orange light surged into the gloom, illuminating the rough, uneven steps.
The mayor, fitted with a black suit, a hat, and white hair that shined as the light hit it, he descended cautiously, flanked by two sturdy guards, their armor clinking softly with every careful movement. As they proceeded, small stones and fragments of the staircase tumbled down, echoing ominously like whispers in the dark. They reached the end of the stairs and walked down a hall holding multiple cells old, damaged cells. They finally stopped at the end of the hall where an ominous fully steel door sat.
"Hey mayor!, do you really think it's a good idea to let him out to deal with Suren's problem?".
one of the guards spoke up(guard A).
"do you really think anyone but him in the village can handle the great elk that Suren has brought here you fool?!".
the mayor yelled angrily.
"If Suren the so-called 'beast boy' can't handle him, then no one can right?"
guard B asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
"Suren is strong, especially for his age, being stronger than even you men, but you know Suren is not capable enough to handle something as dangerous as the great elk".
the mayor's raspy voice argued.
"Now get me those keys and unlock this damn door instead of rambling, you get paid to protect the village not yap".
the mayor quickly added.
one of the guards reached behind his back and dug into his pouch and pulled out a pair of keys, rusted but still usable. The mayor snatched them out of his hands.
"not to go against your decision mayor but keep him in his handcuffs, cause if he doesn't want to comply it'll be easier to take him down and plus he's more than capable of fighting like that".
guard A suggested.
"finally you give a good idea for once instead of fussing".
the mayor chuckled
The mayor's weathered, gentle hands brushed against the icy, smooth surface of the massive metal door. With a faint, ominous click of the key, the door creaked open, revealing a dark room. Two guards, their expressions taut with anticipation, stepped forward to assist the mayor, their sturdy forms blending into the shadows. Together, they gripped the handle, pulling with a measured force as the vault-like door reluctantly swung wide.
Inside, the air hung still and heavy, enveloped in an oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow all light. The only sign of life—or rather, death—was a solitary rat, its lifeless body sprawled on the cold floor, a ghastly bite taken from its side, serving as a reminder of the secrets that lay hidden in this forsaken space.
The mayor cleared his throat, a deep, grating sound that echoed off the damp stone walls of the dimly-lit chamber.
"Zefrin! Wake up, damn you!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the heavy silence with an obnoxious urgency.
"Get a damn light in here, you fools!" the mayor nagged, his irritation palpable.
One of the guards hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. He struck a match, the tiny flame flickering defiantly against the darkness, and carefully placed it into the tarnished lantern hanging from the ceiling. The light flared briefly, casting eerie shadows across the room and illuminating only the center where a skinny, lengthy young man was shackled to the wall by heavy iron chains binding his wrists and ankles.
As the light danced across his features, Zefrin lifted his head slowly, allowing his short golden hair to shimmer in the soft glow. His once-bright eyes, now dulled by captivity, held a mix of sarcasm and resignation.
"It's been so long I forgot why I was down here," he said, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"You know damn well why" the mayor snapped back, irritation simmering beneath his words, his patience wearing thin as he glared at Zefrin.
"you damn ghost prince,"the mayor grunted.