Silver Vane knew the dreadful feeling of desperation intimately—it was a feeling that clung to his mind every waking moment. For the last five years, he had been working his way from the bottom—a cog in the machine—to reach the top position he's yearned for at the greatest trading company in the Western world: that was the Richesse Trading Conglomerate, a company whose cutthroat internal politics were more lethal and fierce than any bandit raid could be. His ledgers were perpetually colored red after he challenged the top management, and they had made it brutally clear to him: bring back something that mattered to them, or face ruin.
That was what had driven him to this folly of a venture. The Quietus Forest, a large stretch of woodland known throughout the world as 'No Man's Land'. It was a place where very few dared to tread in, and even fewer have returned out from in one piece, yet, it was the only source for the Sky-Shale Fungus, a bioluminescent moss vital for the latest alchemical trend for flight. And the potent, crimson-veined Dakar Root, which absorbed mana faster than any other material. The price for failure was ruination; the price for success was wealth and fulfilling his ambitions. He had no choice but to bet everything.
Thus, Silver set out to the forest. He hadn't skimped on preparation. His crew consisted of dozens of professional lumberjacks, retired legionaries from the Empire hired as guards, and a pair of local trackers who knew the forest's outer edge like the back of their hands.
The first few days were a dizzying success. The local fauna were manageable, despite their considerable power. They need only spray unto the land some Toren fluid to scare them off. Toren fluid was costly, but the profits gained would far outweigh the costs. The Dakar Root was abundant past the perimeter of the forest. Silas watched the crates fill with the shimmering fungus and the deep-red roots. For once, he finally felt it; hope.
The venture was working. He was winning. The fools back at the Commerce council would finally eat their words.
But on the fourth day, something strange occurred.
It began with two local trackers: Tomas and Roric, who refused to return to their post near the river. Their faces were pale, eyes unfocused, hands trembling as they clutched their notes.
"It ain't a beast we know, Mister Vane,"
Tomas exclaimed, wiping sweat from his brow.
"It was big. Too big. And… it didn't look like an animal…More like a monster."
Roric, the other man, nodded frantically.
"It didn't roar. It just—watched. It kept watching us like…T-Then it started moving towards us. We ran… The Dakar Root isn't worth dealing with that."
Silas dismissed it as the woods playing tricks on the men's nerves and fined them half a day's pay for their cowardice. And after some persuasion, they went back, reluctantly.
But then, more reports came. And more, and more, and more. Feeling frustrated from the flood of reports, Silver ordered a hunting party to search for the creature, and only just three hours passed when they came back. Wounded, and afraid.
The following morning, one of the best guards and member of the hunting party, a veteran named Kael, was interviewed. He had a gash across his forearm and a look of sheer panic in his eyes.
"We weren't attacked, sir."
Kael rasped while clutching the crude bandage around his arm.
"It was just…watching us. It moved through the woods like a ghost, but it was massive, and green, and it had an axe, a crudely made thing, but it used it to hack at the animals around us, tying their bodies around the trees like some sort of…trophies. It's warning us, sir. It was asserting its territory. We tried to go after it, but we encountered a Levyat Bear in the process."
The harvest had slowed to a crawl. Men were now working in huddled groups, always glancing over their shoulders. Tools were left behind, work was stopped, men were running away. The promise of wealth was being choked out by the creeping dread.
Silver stood in front of the latest pile of collected resources, which was barely a third of what they had been gathering just two days prior. The miraculous work had been interrupted by some sort of creature—a phantom presence that was driving the men away with terror. He looked at the half-filled crates and then to the impenetrable woods, where the thing was rumored to lurk. Stalking, watching him. His entire career—no, his entire life was balanced on this single, desperate expedition.
He had to stop whatever this creature was, or he would lose everything. No matter the cost.