Chương 30: Aldor the Breathless

A man ran through the forest, his breath ragged as each one of his stomps left a deep imprint and echoed through the woods.

"Come on, Sevran, move!" the man barked over his shoulder, every breath feeling as if he were inhaling fire. Behind him, a scrawny kid panted desperately, looking as if he might collapse with his next step. The boy lagged several paces behind, his face deathly pale. Brownish hair clung to his sweat-slicked face, and his damp tunic stuck to his thin torso.

"I-I can't keep going, Dad," the boy gasped, his voice laced with exhaustion. Far behind the boy, a monster pursued, its silhouette the clear image of death. Each one of its steps felt like a thunderous stomp, sending shudders through the ground and into the man's bones. His jaw tightened, and with a swing of his arm, he hooked his son around the waist and hauled him up.

At that moment, the Grull let out a harrowing roar that reverberated through the forest, and a drumbeat of terror hammered against the man's ribs as his heart reacted. He ran for his life and for his son's life. He could already feel his legs about to crumble under the exhaustion of racing through such a long stretch of woods. He didn't want to admit it, but now that he carried his son it only made every step heavier, every breath harder. He wanted to stop and rest, but he couldn't.

He knew exactly what would happen if he did. Curving to the right, he found himself running alongside the riverbank. The man briefly considered braving the river, but discarded the thought instantly as he saw just how roaring the currents were. He might have managed on his own, but not while carrying a quiver full of arrows on one side and his son on the other. Running out of options—not that he had many to begin with—he kept pushing downhill.

Then light from the twin suns caught on a rocky wall draped in green moss, and beneath it was a small crevice, hidden within patches of greenery and bushes. A flicker of hope surged through him. It looked big enough for him, so by that logic, it would be more than enough for his son. He wished to thank whatever god that had directed them there, but there was no time for such things. If they survived, he promised himself, he would make a daily visit to the cathedral to pray to each of the twelve.

Running as fast as he could, the man jolted toward the crevice, feet pounding over roots and weaving between boulders and even jumping over a fallen tree trunk. Then he skidded to a stop in front of the narrow opening and, gripping his son tightly by the shoulders, said, "Sevran, crawl all the way to the back and don't make a sound." His son just stared, eyes wide and unseeing.

"Sevran!" He shook him hard this time.

"Do you hear me? Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, but… what about you?" his son's face was bloodless, his voice trembling. The man glanced at the narrow opening. There was only room for one. He didn't have time for the truth, but it seemed Sevran already knew it anyway.

"D-Dad… don't go. Don't leave me."

"I'm right behind you." He held his son's face in both hands for one fleeting second.

"Remember what I always told you. When all paths end, a hero does not stand still." The words tasted like a sour farewell.

"A hero becomes a new path." Then he pulled him into a frantic, bruising hug for longer than he should've and shoved him into the dark.

"Go!" In that moment, a feral, musky, and acrid stench seeped into his nostrils, setting every hair in the back of his neck on edge. He spun around to face the Grull that had been hunting them. It was so ugly, so horrifying that it would leave even the bravest man haunted by nightmares for months. The Grull let out a distorted, vibrating growl. Its thick hind legs thudded heavily against the ground as thick ropes of saliva dripped from the edges of its snout. The man hesitated, then glanced back at the crevice.

He had to banish every trace of doubt if the boy was to live another day, but still, how was he supposed to get them out of this? Especially with the horror still clinging to him. Raising his bow, he nocked an arrow and took aim at the quadrupedal wolf-like Grull. Its shaggy dark fur bristled menacingly as it hunched low, powerful limbs ending in long, razor-sharp claws that could probably fell a tree in one or two strikes.

However, its most bloodcurdling feature was the set of wet, fleshy tendrils spilling from its snout. They writhed in a disgusting, chaotic frenzy that made the sharp, jagged teeth around them look almost tame in comparison. The Grull twitched in unnatural spasms before lunging at him fast. He took a quick, desperate breath and unleashed a barrage of arrows. Most missed because why wouldn't they when his life was on the line.

One barely grazed the wolf's shoulder, but another sank shallowly into its neck before falling free. That made the wolf pause for a brief second, and the man seized the opportunity, bolting away from in front of the cave and shouting, "I'm right here! Come and get me, you stupid overgrown dog!" He had already accepted that this would plausibly be his last day alive. Still, for his son, he was fine with that. Sevran just needed to stay hidden and make no sound.

The hulking wolf came after him, swiping at him with too-sharp claws. He dodged and ran, barely managing a few desperate steps before the feeling of slimy, hot tendrils coiling around his left leg took him. The tendrils' toxic heat scorched his calf, leaving angry, bubbling blisters. He felt as though his skin was burning, and it was. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

"If I die…" he groaned, unsheathing his hunting knife and spinning on his free heel to face the furry monster.

"You're coming with me!" A primal frenzy washed over him as he furiously stabbed the Grull's back. It felt like stabbing solid wood; his knife was barely leaving a dent. He aimed for its neck, but the Grull released his leg and shoved him back with a strike of its massive head. The man slammed hard on his back, the impact driving every last gasp of air from his lungs. A split second later, it was as if a boulder had dropped on him as the Grull's heavy limb stomped into his chest, pinning him down.

His ribs screamed in agony. How the hell was it this strong? Blood sprayed from his mouth, coating his lips. He tried to move, but the weight was too much for an ordinary person like him to resist. I'm no Blessen. I can't win.

"Dad!" His heart skipped a beat as he strained his head toward the sound. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of his son standing outside the cave.

"No!" The word tore from his throat fast.

"Why? Why did you come out?!" What had been the point of sacrificing himself if Sevran was just going to step out and offer himself to the beast? Air rushed back into his lungs as the Grull withdrew its limb from his chest. In any other situation, he would have felt relief. Not this time. It meant the Grull had turned its sights on his son. He couldn't allow that. He wouldn't.

"Run, Sevran!" he wheezed, veins bulging in his neck as he clutched the Grull's limb and drove his knife into it again and again.

"Run! Sevran! Please, run!" Whatever he could do to buy his son even a second, he would. The Grull hit him with its limb, shoving him down again. It roared and threw its full weight onto him, shattering his ribcage with a sickening crunch. The claws struck the ground on the other side of his body. All the strength drained from the man in a heartbeat. He didn't even have the strength left to scream. The knife slipped from his grip, and he coughed up a thick gush of blood.

Pulling its leg up, the Grull left a gaping hole that exposed the man's mangled viscera and shattered red bones. He reached out weakly, his fingers coming away warm and slick with blood, then turning his head, with his vision blurring, the man glanced one last time, praying he wouldn't see his son. Praying the boy had heeded his warning and run. But no. Sevran was still there, trembling on his knees just a few paces away. Tears streamed down his swollen, snot-covered face. No… why didn't you run, my child?

Jagged teeth and suffocating tendrils tightening around his skull marked the man's final moments, and as the last flicker of light fled his eyes, the world went silent. Everything slowed and then stopped. Leaves hung suspended in midair, defying gravity. The turbulent river froze in place. Birds halted mid-flight, frozen in the sky as if seized by an unseen hand, and countless fish hung motionless in the water.

❧❧ ⫷ ❁ ⫸ ❧❧ Anadis felt dizziness crashing over him, his mind reeling as he desperately awoke and tried to grab onto something, anything, in the emptiness he now found himself in. But he wasn't truly awake. Not in the real sense, at least. He found himself once again in the infinite white space from the Blessed Trial. This time, however, it wasn't empty. Endless mirror-like crystal fragments floated all around, scattered across the vastness.

Each one replayed the same haunting memory of the man and his son's demise. Before Anadis could even begin to comprehend what was happening, a silhouette of brilliant light materialized. It formed like magnetic golden particles drawn to a single point, yet far more transcendent than that. It reminded him of something divine. The particles transformed into that same woman whom he thought of as the living manifestation of the Divine Voice.

Her voice shattered the silence, gentle as dawn's first sigh, whispering all around him. ✦ Imprint [Aldor the Breathless] Wood Effigy Clad in torn traveler's clothes. His face is hidden beneath a weathered hood, and every step he takes leaves behind fading footprints of pale light. Origin Born from the final will of a father who spent every last heartbeat leading death away from the child he loved.

Ability Aldor the Breathless puts himself in danger for those he cares about; he would rather die than let a single hit pass him. Hindrance Aldor the Breathless can only be called once per dawn, once destroyed. Suddenly, before Anadis could even form a coherent thought, reality surged forward. The white emptiness vanished, replaced by a violent torrent of sensations crashing over every sense. Then everything went dark.