He reached the gate to find the watchtower unmanned, the guard fast asleep above. Faelan slipped inside and disappeared through the opening before anyone woke up.
Faelan didn't stop running when the sounds faded.
He pushed on through the brush until his legs trembled and his breath burned his throat raw. Only then did he slow, not stopping outright, just easing into a quieter pace. He kept low, feet careful.
The awareness of his weakness coiled tight in his mind.
The night air outside Maulec was cooler, damp with the scent of soil and wild grass. The land here hadn't been tamed, only skirted by roads. Crickets chirred, then fell quiet. That bothered him more than noise.
He ducked into a ravine where rainwater had carved a crooked path through the earth. The walls rose just high enough to hide him if he crouched. Faelan pressed himself against the mud, slowing his breathing, forcing his body to be small. His body shivered not because of the cold but out fear, he did what he could to stop the bleeding from his wounds.
Exhausted, he rested, and the world stayed calm for a while.
But sleep shattered like thin ice.
At first, Faelan thought it was a dream—pressure without pain, weight without heat. Then something moved. Slow. Deliberate. A cold, dry sensation slid over his calves, up his thighs, coiling with patient certainty around his torso. His breath caught as another loop tightened across his chest, pinning his arms to his sides.
He opened his eyes.
Moonlight spilled across the ravine floor, pale and silver, just enough to see the shape wrapped around him. Scales—layered, uneven, each one edged with a faint dull glow like dying embers. The body was thick, thicker than a tree trunk. Whatever held him wasn't in a rush. It didn't need to be.
A massive head lowered into view, suspended above his face. No roar. No hiss. Just a slow, steady breath that smelled of dust and iron. Its eyes—too many pupils layered within one another—focused on him with unsettling calm.
Faelan didn't struggle.
The guild's training echoed in his skull: thrashing gets you killed. His heartbeat hammered anyway, loud enough he was sure the thing could feel it through its coils.
The creature tightened—just a little.
A warning.
Faelan swallowed, every muscle screaming to run while knowing he couldn't.
The creature's mouth opened wider—rows of hooked plates folding back like a living trap—and its coils crushed tighter.
Then—
BANG
BANG
The night shattered.
The coils spasmed. Not in pain—in shock. Hot, metallic blood splashed across Faelan's chest and face, steaming faintly where it hit his skin. The pressure vanished all at once and he collapsed onto the mud, air ripping back into his lungs in a ragged gasp. He didn't waste it.
Faelan rolled, scrambling on instinct, boots slipping in dust and blood as the massive body recoiled. The creature surged away in a blur of muscle and scales, dragging itself toward the rocks, its tail gouging deep scars into the earth as more shots rang out from the dark.
BANG
The thing vanished behind stone, wounded but very much alive.
Faelan staggered backward, heart trying to claw out of his ribs. His hands shook. His clothes were soaked—not all of it his. The coppery smell clung to him, heavy and unmistakable.
Only then did he look toward the gunfire.
Silhouettes stood at the edge of the ravine—lamps low, rifles raised, voices tense and sharp.
Faelan stayed low, every muscle screaming at him to move—or not to.
The blood on him was still warm. Still steaming faintly in the cool night air. He pressed himself against the dirt, breath shallow, listening.
The voices drifted closer.
"—hit it clean?"
"Hard to tell. Thing moved like it knew the land."
"Doesn't matter. If it bleeds, we track it."
Not ragons.
Ragons laughed. They boasted. They made noise.
These voices were clipped. Professional. Controlled.
A lantern flared, throwing jagged shadows across the rocks. Faelan turned his face away, smearing dirt over the dark sheen on his skin. He wasn't sure if being seen was the best course of action.
A boot crunched closer.
"Hold," someone murmured. "Something else was here."
Faelan's pulse thundered in his ears.
If he stayed hidden, they might assume the creature dragged its prey off.
If he revealed himself… he'd be at their mercy.
His fingers twitched, though he knew how pointless it was.
Another voice, quieter now:
"Human. Judging by the blood spray."
A pause.
Then, unexpectedly, a sigh.
"…Damn it. Check for survivors."
The lantern shifted again, light crawling over the ground—over the torn soil, the drag marks—almost to where Faelan lay.
Slowly, carefully, he raised one shaking hand from the dirt.
The hand hovered in the lantern's light, trembling, but steady enough to show he wasn't a threat.
One of the figures crouched closer, rifle angled just below his shoulder. A flash of eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over him, taking in the blood, the dirt, the ragged breathing.
"Alive," the figure muttered, low, almost to themselves.
The others froze, then murmurs rippled through them.
"Step out slowly," the same voice instructed. "We're not here to hurt you… yet."
Every instinct screamed caution, but he knew he couldn't stay buried. Slowly, Faelan pushed himself upright, keeping his hands visible. The warm stickiness of blood on his skin made him nauseous, but he forced himself to ignore it.
As he stepped forward, the lanterns revealed them fully: four hunters, each with weathered gear, blades and one with a rifle at the ready, eyes sharp and calculating like they'd seen a hundred nights like this.
"You were alone?" the crouched figure asked, voice tight.
Faelan nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes. I… I was attacked."
The figure's gaze flicked toward the ravine, where the creature had retreated. "We saw. It's dangerous out here… you should've stayed on the road."
If I had stayed on the road he might've found me, Faelan thought to himself what he couldn't tell them.
Another hunter, a woman with a scarf pulled over her mouth, gestured toward the dark woods. "We track it now, but you… you're coming with us we'll try to fix you up. Get you to a relatively safe spot."
Faelan's pulse slowed just slightly, though he kept his eyes wary.
He followed them silently as they went down unfamiliar paths, from what they told him it seems they've been tracking the creature, it was an Orthdra.
Faelan listened closely, trying to piece together what he'd stumbled into.
The Orthdra, they said, was not just a beast—it was intelligent, cunning, and terrifyingly large. Its body was a twisted mesh of scales and sinew, far heavier than any normal animal, with eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. Hunters spoke of its patience, how it would linger near settlements, testing defenses, studying patterns. It wasn't merely a predator; it learned.
"The worst part," the crouched leader continued, voice low, "it rather likes having options. Sometimes it takes livestock, sometimes… people. We've lost a few good men trying to track it. Others disappear without a trace." Faelan swallowed hard.
As they moved, the forest thinned into rolling plains again. In the distance, smoke curled into the sky—a settlement. Small huts, fields partially burned, livestock grazing nervously in pens. Signs of life, yet a tension hung in the air like a fog.
"They call this place Rilven," said one hunters, scanning the outskirts with a keen eye. "Don't let appearances fool you—people here live on edge. They've seen the Orthdra up close. Some even claim it knows names… tracks individuals."
Faelan's gaze swept across the settlement, trying to see beyond the smoke and fields, but there was only unease in the air. Something about the place felt wrong, like every shadow was aware of him, watching his every move.
The hunters paused at the edge of the village. "We'll rest here for the night," the crouched one said, "but tomorrow… we track it further. You stay close. Don't wander off, I'll go get a doctor."
Faelan nodded, his heart still pounding. The doctor arrived soon after. She stitched him up quickly, though the pain stretched every second into hours.
She was done now all Faelan needed was rest but he barely got any as it was only few hours to sunrise.
It was a cloudy morning, the sky looked like it would open up soon.
They were on the trail of the Orthdra, Faelan was taken along as the only one who's seen it upclose.
The hunters moved with practiced quiet, boots sinking into the damp earth, eyes scanning every ridge and shadow. Faelan kept his distance but kept pace, muscles aching from yesterday's exertion.
The clouds overhead pressed low, gray and heavy, muting the light and throwing the plains into a dim, restless haze. Every gust of wind carried a sound: the sway of tall grasses, the snap of a twig, the distant lowing of livestock—but Faelan's ears were tuned to something else: the subtle, almost imperceptible signs of the Orthdra.
"They're smart," one of the hunters murmured as they moved along a narrow ravine. "They learn, adapt… if you leave a trap, they'll remember it. If you hide, they'll know where to look."
"That's why you're useful to us Faelan, you know a few things we don't, an Orthdra's appearance is said to reflect their behavior, it'll make it easier to track them," the lead hunter said. "Normally we'd just wait and have you tell us everything you know before we come out here but we've been in this place for too long, we have to deal with that pesky beast sooner rather than later."
"I get it," Faelan replied as he began to tell them about the features he could remember about the Orthdra, most of it seemed to be mundane information that he thought they wouldn't need but to his surprise the more he told them, the more their direction changed.
Faelan glanced around, noting the undisturbed patches of soil, the broken branches. There—flattened grass that seemed fresh. A large creature had passed recently.
The crouched leader gestured ahead. "It's moving fast today. Could be hunting, could be moving territory… either way, stay sharp."
Faelan's pulse quickened. Every instinct screamed caution, but the ache of fatigue pulled at him.
Up ahead, the cloud cover broke briefly, a streak of sunlight illuminating a jagged ridge.