Forest, The Serpent Isles - 14th day of the Sardonyx Moon, Year 24 AH

  Hal surged forward, bringing his axe down in an arcing swing. Regis dodged to the side and thrust his blade at the angel, who blocked the blow. The two weapons clashed with a loud clang that rang clearly throughout the clearing. Hal twisted his arm in an attempt to loosen the demon’s grip on his sword, but Regis realized what was happening and leapt back in time, putting some more distance between them. The angel grinned.

  “Not bad,” he said. Regis laughed.

  “You seemed to have grown quite skilled with that axe yourself.” He briefly pulled up his status sheet, but found it the same as before. He hummed, lowering his blade and wiping away a few beads of sweat that had formed along his forehead. Sweat. That was another oddity of the human body.

  “Have you gained another level yet?” he asked. Hal squinted at the air in front of him, then shook his head.

  “Nope.”

  “I suppose leveling via sparring is indeed quite slow.” Regis flipped his sword and sheathed it in one smooth motion. “It is good practice nonetheless.”

  He turned to one of the trees nearby. They’d stopped to rest after coming across this clearing, which was nearly perfectly circular in shape. Tall grasses brushed along their legs, and the surrounding trees enclosed the space like a natural fence. Given the shape of the clearing, he suspected this area had once been used to contact the Wild. If he’d had his old magic sense, he could’ve confirmed his suspicion, but as it was he only had speculation to work with.

  Regis placed a hand along the tree trunk. It was cool and damp to the touch, the bark rough beneath his palm. He focused on the section just around his hand and activated [Rot].

  Black smoke bloomed outwards from his fingertips, sinking into the bark. Almost immediately, the tree trunk began to wither. Regis urged the rot to travel further outwards, pushing it to the limits of its range. It finally stopped when it had nearly traveled all the way around the trunk. The smoke dissipated, and Regis stepped back to study the spot. A blackened ring of decay now wrapped around the trunk. He’d been practicing utilizing [Rot] since receiving it, learning its nuances and differences from his old power. He liked to think he was growing decently accustomed to it.

  “Practicing that rot stuff again?” Hal asked.

  “I’m hoping to level it soon. It’s a tad more restricted in its current state than I’d like it to be.” Regis turned to the angel, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “You might consider doing the same with that healing ability of yours.”

  Hal groaned. “Yeah yeah, I’ll do that later. Give me a few more days to sulk. Stupid thing can't even heal my wings," he muttered. Whatever magic the otherworlder had used that was slowing his regeneration was apparently just as effective on healing magic.

  The demon chuckled. “If you say so.” He glanced up at the sky. It was another clear day, the light blue hues surrounding the sun shifting to a darker tone the further down they extended. An ideal day for traveling, Regis thought. He bent down and picked up his bag again. “Let us continue,” he said. “We still have a ways to go.”

  “Yeah, about that. I was looking at those maps. The White Cliffs’re pretty far—it’s gonna take us ages to get there.”

  “I believe I may have a solution to that.” Hal raised an eyebrow, and Regis glanced back at the angel and smiled.

  “How would you like to fly again?”

  Howling winds whipped violently below them, carrying scattered leaves and dirt and stones. Further into the forest, the trees thinned, allowing a clear view of the sky above. The ground dipped sharply down a sheer ravine that split the earth apart. There, seemingly endless gales flew between the rough cliff faces in a constant swirling vortex of movement. The sound of rushing wind resembled that of crashing waves—rhythmic and patterned in its intonations. Regis tucked his hair back, his cloak flapping wildly about him as he gazed down into the ravine. There were no signs of life that he could see. In winds this strong, even harpies could not maintain their nests.

  Beside him, Hal whooped and spun around, gleefully taking in the feeling of the breeze against him. “A current? I didn’t think the Serpent Isles had one!”

  “Apparently it formed in the past twenty years,” Regis explained. He bent down to pluck a few grasses, then released them down into the ravine. Rather than sink, they were immediately picked up by the gusts. He watched them swirl and rock about the air, soon disappearing from view.

  The demon pulled out their map of the Serpent Isles, careful to keep it secure in his grip, and traced their current position. The ravine formed a rough, jagged line running through the forest. “If we ride the current, it will take us north towards the White Cliffs.” He moved his finger over to the end of the ravine, where the map depicted a grassland. “Apparently this meadow is quite famous on the isles. It’s home to nearly every native species of flower on the island.”

  Hal grunted to show he was listening, but he was clearly more focused on the current itself. He’d never cared much for plants, Regis thought with amusement. He rolled up the map and tucked it back into his bag.

  Currents like these could be found across Elaren, though they varied greatly in size. These were areas where the boundary between the material plane and the Wild was weaker, allowing enough of the magic of the latter realm to seep into the atmosphere, creating distinct, chaotic weather phenomena. These tears either formed naturally as a result of the planes brushing against each other, or they were made deliberately by fae or material plane residents attempting to contact the Wild. Humans considered them quite dangerous and often warned against approaching them. Other species, particularly winged ones, used them to practice flight.

  Regis pointed to the left. The walls of the ravine extended far beyond their vision’s reach, winding and bending like a coiling serpent. “Once we land, we’ll be able to continue our journey by foot,” he finished.

  Hal squinted in the direction the demon was pointing. He hummed. “Well, that’s one way to speed things up. You sure though? Last time we rode one of these, you—you know—had wings.”

  Regis raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I will not be able to control my flight path without the aid of wings?” He chuckled. “You’re not in particularly ideal condition yourself.”

  “Nah, I’m not.” Hal fluttered his damaged wings for emphasis, the feathers and bones barely able to move due to the tight bandages encasing them. He turned his back to the ravine, casually stretching both arms out to allow more of the wind to pass by.

  “Hey, last time we raced in Rhovgar you won, right?”

  “That is correct, yes.”

  The angel’s face split into a wide grin. “Guess it’s my turn.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than he tipped backwards over the edge of the cliff.

  A blast of wind rushed upwards from the ravine, carrying with it sand and stone and other bits of debris. Regis raised an arm to shield his face. Hal’s laughter rang loudly in his ears as he rode the breeze, spinning around a few times in the air in a display of skill. Regis smiled. Not one to be outdone, he stepped over to the edge of the ravine, waited for the next gust, then leapt down himself.

  He immediately felt the force of the wind against his face, the pressure so strong that it resembled a hard surface. Regis twisted around, folding his limbs closer to his body to reduce air resistance as the gust continued rushing forwards. This was a sensation he’d missed, he thought. Though it wasn’t quite the same as flying, the weightlessness, the unrestricted freedom of movement—he hadn’t felt like this since the end of the war.

  In front of him, the demon could make out Hal’s form as he expertly soared alongside the breeze, weaving around incoming obstacles with ease. The ravine turned, winding northward. Regis twisted around sharp corners and jagged ledges. A few pieces of debris flitted past him, but he avoided the largest chunks.

  [The [Demon Skin] trait has leveled up! 1 —> 2]

  Immediately the pressure of the wind against his skin lessened, still present but no longer quite so stinging. Regis smiled to himself; he hadn’t been certain this would relate to the trait’s range of applications, but it seemed it had.

  They should reach the end of the current soon, Regis thought. The ground was a blur beneath them. The walls of the ravine were beginning to dip down, steadily sloping to meet the earth, and he could see where the ravine opened into flat plains in the distance.

  “That all you got?” Hal yelled, his voice carried backwards by the wind. The angel was still a decent ways ahead of him. Indeed, his wings provided a great deal more maneuverability and lift, even in their current state. This race was very much in his favor.

  The demon, however, had a few more tricks to utilize. He twisted around a sharp ledge, but raised his hand just high enough to brush against it. He activated [Rot].

  The stone disintegrated where he touched it, the remaining piece snapping off and breaking free, hurtling forward towards the unsuspecting angel. Regis watched it hit the man’s back, and Hal immediately spun around to see what it was. His brief distraction allowed the demon to just barely overtake him. Hal made an indignant noise and surged forward just as the cliff faces gave way to grass and the winds weakened.

  Their landing was not nearly as smooth as it had been when they’d had the full capacity of wings at their disposal. The current had slowed enough that they weren’t too high above the ground, and Regis attempted to swing his legs around so that he could land in a standing position. His effort was mostly successful. He managed to plant his feet on solid earth seconds before Hal barrelled into him, knocking both of them over onto the ground.

  Hal’s cackles rang loudly in the demon’s ears as he sat up again. He brushed dirt and stray grasses off his clothes. Regis raised an eyebrow at the angel in amusement.

  “I do believe that is what humans would call, ‘in bad sport.’”

  Hal snorted and got up off the ground himself, aggressively shaking the dirt off his wings. “So says the cheater,” he said, still grinning. He flicked a stray rock at Regis, who caught it before it could land. He chuckled.

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  “We did establish that you had an advantage.” He rose to his feet and dusted off his pants. He was glad he’d tied his bag securely prior to jumping; if not, it likely would’ve come loose earlier. Regis glanced around, finally taking the chance to observe their surroundings now that the rush of the flight was beginning to fade. He stilled.

  The ravine opened into a wide, flat field broken only by a few stray trees jutting out from the soil. He’d expected to see vibrant blooms and swaying flowers. Instead, his eyes landed on a sea of greys and browns.

  Around them, yellowed grasses swayed in the wind, their bodies dried and half decayed. The branches of the trees were entirely bare, and the flowers had all wilted, their petals drooping downwards towards the rotted earth. No songbirds chirped. There was none of the wonder described in the guidebooks—there was no trace of life in sight.

  “Shit,” Hal muttered beside him, his own pale eyes sweeping over the desolate landscape. “Did a demon come here or something?”

  “No, this does not seem to be the work of a demon.” Regis crouched down, digging his hand into the soil. It was dry and easily crumbled beneath his fingertips. “This does resemble demonic rot, but it’s not quite the same.” Demonic rot typically disintegrated the objects it touched; whatever had happened here had merely drained the life from the plants, leaving their dried husks behind.

  The angel hummed in agreement. He spun around, squinting into the distance. There was seemingly no end to the withered meadow. “Life sucking spell? Don’t see any ritual runes, though.”

  “I don’t either,” Regis agreed. He rose back to his feet and patted off his hands. “We should proceed with caution. Whatever caused this may still be nearby.”

  “Guess it’s too much to hope it’s a plague.”

  The demon smiled at that. “Knowing our luck, I sincerely doubt it.”

  The two continued through the wilted fields. The plain dirt road winding between the grasses appeared untouched, and there were no fresh footsteps that Regis could see. He would’ve expected to encounter a few villagers or passersby, given the size and location of this road, but they crossed no other living souls along their journey. The quiet was pervasive.

  After about an hour of travel, the dark silhouettes of a few buildings appeared on the horizon. There had been some small villages bordering this path on the map, and it seemed they had finally reached one. Regis, however, suspected they would not find it in a particularly lively state.

  His assumption was quickly proven correct.

  The decay that had taken over the fields had reached the village as well. The wood of the buildings had rotted, and the few gardens and decorative plants surrounding the little houses had shriveled and died. Dried grasses crunched beneath their feet. There were no voices or murmurs along the streets. Instead, collapsed bodies lined the dirt road, still and unmoving.

  Regis approached the closest body, flipping it over to reveal a young human child. He placed his fingers by the boy’s neck, but found no pulse.

  “Hal, could you try healing him?” he asked. The boy was very likely dead, but there were a few conditions that mimicked death. It was better to be certain. Hal frowned, but crouched down and raised a hand, activating his ability. That icy glow briefly lit up the dull surroundings, but it quickly faded. He shook his head.

  “Nothing.”

  Regis hummed in acknowledgement and set the body back down. “This must have happened fairly recently,” he remarked. The body had still been warm.

  He glanced around the empty village. Just as before, there were no runes or any other signs of conflict present, and the bodies had no visible wounds on them. He couldn’t detect a magic signature in his present state, though it was entirely possible there wouldn’t be one regardless.

  Regis checked a few more of the corpses they passed, but they, too, provided no answers. He frowned. His curiosity had been piqued, but it seemed there was nothing more they could do here.

  He straightened and turned to Hal, about to say they should continue forward, but he paused at the last second. In the corner of his eye, a flash of movement appeared in the windows of one of the houses. His mouth closed. Perhaps they would receive answers yet.

  Regis nodded in the direction of the building. Hal raised an eyebrow, but followed behind him as the demon made his way towards the front door. There was no sound or other signs of movement coming from the little house, but neither the entrance nor the exit had moved. Whoever was there was still inside the building.

  The door was locked. Regis briefly considered knocking and calling out, but he suspected there would be no answer. Instead, he turned to Hal and gestured to the door. The angel cracked his knuckles.

  With one powerful kick, he knocked the front door down. The wood cracked and splintered, landing hard on the floorboards. Someone shrieked, and three shadows quickly scrambled away. Regis’s eyes landed on a group of humans huddled together against the back wall, two young boys and one girl who appeared only slightly older than the other two. Their eyes were wide with fear, bodies visibly shaking as they took in the two strangers. There were no weapons or sigils that he could see. Regis softened his expression and stepped forward.

  “Are you alright? My friend and I are travelers. We do not wish to hurt you.”

  There was no response. The demon continued, still using that same soft, soothing voice.

  “Can you tell us what happened here?”

  Still there was no answer; the three humans simply continued to stare at them. The silence stretched long enough that Regis was beginning to consider a different tactic when the eldest girl finally spoke in a quiet, stuttering voice.

  “I-It was—it was the c-crows.”

  Hal raised an eyebrow. “A bunch of birds did this?” He didn’t bother to hide his skepticism.

  “The—there was a whole c-cloud of them. Like a b-black shadow.” She shuddered and hugged the two younger boys closer. “I-it just a-appeared all of a sudden! Now everybody’s dead!”

  Her voice was nearly hysterical by the end, and the other two children didn’t seem to be faring much better. Shock, Regis assumed. He’d seen a number of cases like these during the war.

  “I understand. Thank you for telling us,” he said, still in that soft, gentle tone. “Would you like to come outside? We can escort you to safety.”

  They shook their heads frantically. “The shadow! The shadow’ll come!”

  Regis calmly gestured outside the window, where traces of the clear sky could be seen through the rotted frame. “It appears to be gone. Should it return, we will do our best to protect you.” He would admit that he was rather curious to see this creature himself—he’d never heard of something of this nature, and that was rare. They’d described “crows,” then a cloud, and then a shadow. Its true form must lie somewhere in between.

  One of the boys nudged the girl and whispered in her ear. She said something back, and the trio continued to argue a little longer. Regis waited patiently until they were done. In their delicate mental states, pushing too far might cause them to withdraw completely, and he’d still like to question them more once fear was no longer controlling their every action and thought.

  “ …Okay,” the girl finally said. She carefully rose to her feet, the other two following suit. None of them let go of each other, clinging onto one another with vice grips. Regis nodded and turned to step out the doorway, waiting outside for the group to follow. Slowly, they climbed out of the rotted home, eyes flitting wildly about the dead streets. Their gazes continuously shifted upwards towards the sky, Regis noted.

  “Are you ready?” he asked. They gave short, jerky nods. He gestured to the road ahead. “I believe there is another village north of here within half an hour’s walk. We will first head there and seek shelter. Is that alright with you?”

  There was no verbal response, but the trio inched forward a little, which Regis took as an agreement. He turned and began to make his way down the dry road.

  Progress was slow. The children were skittish, jumping at every movement or passing breeze that brushed past. Several times they had to stop because one of them swore they’d seen something in the sky and was too frightened to continue. Still, slowly but surely, they made their way towards the next village. Soon the silhouettes of its buildings could be seen sitting atop the horizon.

  “Guessing you don’t know what this thing is either,” Hal muttered beside him. The angel had mostly ignored the children thus far, though that was perhaps for the better. Regis shook his head.

  “Fascinating, isn’t it? It seems there’s still things yet to be discovered in Elaren.”

  Hal snorted. “Guess that’s one way of looking at it.” He rolled his shoulders. “Might be a good fight, at least. Its gotta be pretty strong if it’s wiping out whole villages.”

  Before Regis had a chance to respond, a shrill shriek rang in his ears.

  “It’s here! It’s here!”

  He turned around.

  There, high up in the sky, a black cloud approached from the west. The demon narrowed his eyes. He understood why they’d described it as crows. The cloud rippled and undulated in constant movement, not unlike the patterns of flapping wings, but there were no true distinct shapes forming it. It lacked solidity, but did not move as mist or smoke would. It appeared like a coiling mass of creeping shadows.

  Regis was aware of the children screaming and panicking around him as the shadow approached. He nudged them forward as he drew his sword. “Run towards the village,” he instructed. “Find somewhere to hide.”

  They didn’t need to be told twice. The group immediately scrambled away in the direction of the village buildings. Regis turned to face the shadow as it approached, eyes still scanning it in an attempt to determine its identity. Not a demon, despite some similarities to his diminished form, and it was not like any fae that he’d heard of. But then, this could very well not be the creature’s true form at all. There was, he supposed, only one way to find out.

  The shadow descended down onto the path, thin tendrils streaming behind it. Hal lunged forward, swinging at it with his axe, but it simply dissipated around the blade. He cursed and jumped back while Regis raised a hand and activated [Rot].

  Black smoke flew out from his palm, clashing with the undulating shadows. A tendril slithered out from the cloud and batted at the smoke, and it vanished without effect.

  The cloud roiled. It stretched forwards, shooting towards Hal and Regis like a pouncing predator. They both leapt aside as the shadows crashed into the earth. As it passed by, however, the demon paused. He recognized this sensation. It was fainter, less precise in its pull, but he’d felt it before. He turned around just as the extended shadows surged, stretching to the path ahead towards the fleeing children.

  The shadows rushed past them, and their screams were muffled. For a moment they were completely lost within the darkness. When the cloud finally dispersed again, all three now lay on the ground, lifeless.

  “Hal, run.”

  No sooner had he finished speaking than the cloud circled back around and swelled towards them. Regis ducked under a stream and ran towards the village, Hal beside him. When he glanced back, he could see the cloud following them. It completely passed over the bodies of the now-dead children, but he could see a few cracks in the road where it had attacked. He frowned. The cloud appeared larger than before.

  “What the fuck is that,” Hal said, their feet pounding against the ground. They were quickly approaching the village, and Regis could see that it, too, had already fallen victim to the shadow if its decayed buildings and the bodies lying slumped across the ground were any indication.

  “It absorbs souls,” Regis said. He’d only felt that specific tug once before, and it was when he’d drifted aimlessly after the otherworlder’s attack, resisting the call of the Ark. He jumped over one of the dead bodies. That still did not answer what the creature was, but now they at least knew what it did. “I imagine it will not stop until it has absorbed us as well.”

  Hal opened his mouth, then closed it again. Movement appeared in his peripheral vision, and Regis dove to the side as another stream of shadows rushed forward. His shoes skidded on the loose dirt, stray gravel flying into his face. He placed a hand down to stop his movement. Like this, he was facing the main body of the creature as it approached them. Slowly, he straightened and raised his sword again. Hal did the same with his axe.

  “It left a mark on the ground earlier,” Regis said, recalling the crack beside the childrens’ bodies. “I suspect that cloud is formed from the souls it absorbs. It’s using it to hide its main body.”

  Hal hummed. “So there’s something to hit, is what you’re saying.”

  The demon smiled. “Yes, there is.”

  In front of them, the cloud rolled closer, its shadowy form taking up nearly the entire width of the street. Regis tried to see past the black mist, but he couldn’t make out its body. It must be hiding deep within that shroud, he thought.

  He flexed his fingers, adjusting his grip around his sword as the cloud undulated again.

  “Be prepared,” he said. “It’s coming.”