by Heath Pfaff
"They hunt best in heavy snow, and by the looks of it, we're to have a serious storm." Weaver must have noticed my stare. He seemed always to be able to read the questions I held inside, even if I never asked them. It unnerved me. Our eyes - the eyes of a Knight of Ethan - saw well in the dark, though they did not brighten the night so much as sharpen the details beneath its dark cloak. Weaver had told me before that heavy snow or rain was more difficult to see through, since our vision's peculiar ability to track motion could become confusing in such circumstances. I hadn't yet had a chance to fully appreciate that effect, but as the snow began to quicken around us, and the streaks followed every flake through the sky, I was beginning to see just how true his warning had been.
"Come," Weaver said, starting forward again. "We should travel as far as we can before the snow sets in and we're forced to stop." We started forward once more. Every hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I wasn't certain if it was a justified feeling, or simply paranoia, though I suspected that the feeling was indeed justifiable. The beast already knew where we were, and it was probably watching us marching further into its territory.
The snow set in fast. Within an hour we were struggling against gusting winds and conditions that made it impossible to see each other, despite being less than an arms-width apart. The wind howled between us, making communication without yelling difficult, even if we had been inclined to talk to one another. It was Silent who finally called an end to our progress.
"We should stop here," he yelled into the void of wind and snow. We were near a thick cove of evergreens that would provide some shelter from the wind, even if they couldn't keep out all the blowing snow.
"Fine, find a tree and set your back to it, keep your cloak pulled up tight and you should survive until morning," Lucidil yelled back at us, and so we each took a separate tree, laying close to the trunk where the wind was least biting and the snow was least likely to accumulate. I noted where both of my travel companions were bedding down, in case of emergency. As I'd been told to do, I pulled my face mask up over most of my face, and drew my hood so low that it blocked out most of the world. Being blind, and knowing that we were stalked by a Fell Beast, I couldn't help but fear that which was unseen. The terrible howl of the wind, a noise like a beast of nightmares screaming through the forest and the darkness, made for an unsettling night. I did manage to sleep, but not for more than a few minutes at a time. I waited in anticipation of the attack I felt certain would come during the night, but as the light of day began to brighten the eternal whiteness of the world around me, I was still alive. The howl of the storm began to fade, and I lifted the hood of my cloak to look out at the changes the storm had wrought. The cloak, though difficult to see with its shifting camouflage on the outside, was solid black on the inside, so I was ill prepared for the brightness that met my eyes upon first peering out. During the night the snow had covered me almost to my neck, and it took a good deal of force to break the seal that had been formed about my body. I stood up and pushed myself through the snow, going to where I remembered Silent and Weaver to have bedded down.
"Weaver? Silent?" I called, but there was no answer. I walked to the positions they'd been in the night before and found only a slight depression in the snow where the two of them should have been. A note of panic struck me, and I had to force myself to remain calm. I scanned the field of white around me, the snow nearly as high my thighs. There were no tracks, no sign of passage. Wherever they had gone, they had vanished not long after we'd stopped the night before and the storm had erased all memory of their passing from the earth. My initial fear was that they'd been taken in the night by the Fell Beast, but I couldn't believe that Weaver would go down without a fight. Of course, I had to consider the possibility that I might not have heard a fight in the howling wind of the night before. Besides, the other possibility was that Silent and Weaver had intentionally left me in the night, and that prospect didn't make any sense. I had been traveling with Weaver for a long time, merely to have him leave me alone in the most dangerous wilderness we'd passed through made little sense. Assuming they had not willingly left, I was forced to consider the first possibility more seriously. Had the beast come in the night and taken Silent and Weaver knowing that they were the strongest, and that it would best be rid of them when it had the advantage? With only myself left, I would be easy prey for a creature of such incredible ferocity and hunger, and it could enjoy the hunt and capture with little worry. I drew my sword and held it at the ready.
I would have to keep traveling south, no matter what had happened. I needed to reunite with the Knights of Ethan. If I were being hunted I would need to travel fast and remain cautious. If the beast had killed both Weaver and Silent in the night, I had little hope of surviving with my meager skills and abilities, but I would not allow myself to be defeated without at least making an attempt to escape. I did my best to orient myself southward, making as clear a judgment as possible based on the position of the sun. I wasn't as directionally acute as Weaver, and the sun was mostly obscured by clouds, but it was all I had to work with. From somewhere not too far away, a howl tore into the void of white and urged me to get moving. The deep snow was difficult to move through, but I pushed onward, looking up to take my position whenever it was possible. The storm had gone, but the cloud cover was omnipresent, the sun rarely shining out from behind the thick cloud-cover to allow me to get my bearings. The snow came and went as I traveled, and always I felt the pressure of eyes on my back. Occasionally, when I would begin to feel comfort in my progress, another howl would echo through the trees to remind me that my pursuer was still following. I kept my fist tight around the handle of my weapon and trudged on.
My course, though generally aimed southward, meandered and turned as I struggled to make a good pace across the confusing, snow-covered terrain. An endless field of white, broken only by trees and the occasional rock, stretched out before me, a labyrinth of complexity unparalleled by anything man-made. Every mile of travel looked exactly like the previous. I was not an experienced traveler, and had little skill in identifying landmarks, if there had been landmarks to identify. I became increasingly concerned as the hours passed and the sky began to darken with steadily growing cloud cover. I ate my midday meal on the move, but by the time I had finished, the snow had started falling again, and was growing faster and heavier with every passing minute. The world around me slowly began to vanish into streams of motion that made progress difficult, but I did not allow myself to stop. Whatever had happened to Silent and Weaver in the night, I did not wish the same to happen to me. I supposed some would prefer a quick death in their sleep to the waking knowledge of their own impending doom, but I was not one of those people.
My cloak kept the cold from seeping into my body and also kept off the dampness, but my boots - though treated for bad weather and of superior crafting - did not have the same magical properties that the fabric of my cloak did, and my feet were growing cold, though not yet damp. I was thankful for that latter, as wetness would have only compounded the cold. The snow, already nearly to my waist, was climbing slowly higher as the fury of the storm grew, and that made the footing treacherous. More than once I placed my foot on what I assumed was solid ground, only to find there was a hole hidden beneath the snow. So far south there were no roads, and very few paths that were anything more than game trails. As lost as I was, I doubted that I was near any such trail, and so trudged my way across the uneven ground that made up the wilderness of the deep southlands without the ability to see where I would place my next footfall.
A howl sounded from behind me, far nearer than any of the times I'd heard it previously, and I knew that the Fell Beast was drawing closer. The game of the hunt was nearing its conclusion, my time dwindling fast. My hand was still clenched about my sword hilt, and though I had drawn it back under my cloak to stop my fingers from freezing, I removed it from the warmth
of its coverings. I would need it soon, and it would serve me best if it were ready to be used. I looked behind me as I kept moving southward, noting that even the trail I'd carved through the snow was already filling in. The churning snow obscured any details past a few feet in my wake, but I could see something in the snow, directly behind me, no more than twenty feet away. It was large, and hunched over it still stood taller than myself. I could make out little of its actual form, but it moved in a manner far different from the falling snow, and so stood out clearly to my motion-sensitive eyes, a massive shape amidst the flutter of ethereal ice flakes.
"If you want me beast, come now. I'm tired of your games. Let me kill you now and we'll be done with this." I shouted into the bluster of the wind, a bluster of my own fury, a last ditch effort to intimidate the monstrosity that pursued me. It didn't work - the dark shape amidst the snow began to move towards me. It is impossible to control fear, but it is possible to control the effect fear has on one's body. I had to summon my utmost control as the Fell Beast, a demon not fit for our world at all, stalked through the snow toward me. As it came nearer, the snow abated just long enough for me to get my first clear glimpse of the horrible beast. The creature stood a foot taller than myself, and was clad in thick fur of the deepest black, though banded at the wrists, the tips of its ears, and its throat in a brilliant red that I could hardly believe was naturally occurring. Its long, dexterous hands ended in obsidian claws that looked as sharp, or sharper, than the sword I held in defense. It stood on two massively powerful legs, though they were mostly obscured in the thick snow. Its head was like that of a wolf, but larger, and with eyes that shone black even in the darkness of the storm. The maw of the creature was larger than any wolf's I'd ever seen, and adorned with long teeth, obviously designed for tearing. It looked lean and fierce, every inch a primal killer. I could see the muscles rippling beneath its coat of fur as it took each slow, measured step towards me. Though it walked on two feet, I could see that its body would easily allow it to fall forward to run on all fours. It didn't do that now, though. It stalked in on its hind legs, looking like a demonic caricature of man and wolf.
I leveled my sword at the thing's throat and prepared for an attack. The snow blew up again, and for a moment I lost sight of the beast entirely. That almost cost me my life. When next I saw the demonic wolf-creature, it was only a few feet from me, one of its clawed arms ripping through the air with the intent of taking out my throat. The only thing that saved me was my well-practiced ability to slow my perception of time. It switched on automatically as the threat made itself evident. The strike was still coming fast, far too fast for me to move my sword to intercept, so I dropped backward instead, letting inertia do what reflexes were unable to. The claw barely cleared the top of my cloak, and the creature's other arm was already moving to follow through with a second stroke. I twisted my body in my downward plunge and forced my arm out to connect with the ground and turn my momentum. In order to do this, I had to push myself all the way to my body's limits, and I felt pain ring upwards through my arms as I connected with the ground and twisted myself into position to meet the creature's second blow. I could force my body to do what was necessary, but it didn't have to like it. My sword came up into position just in time to meet the rush of the creature's clawed strike but I was ill-prepared for the force of the blow, and still off balance, only half way to my feet. I let the beast's claws fall flat across the edge of my blade, expecting to cause some damage, but instead there was a tremendous transfer of force and my sword was pushed back into me, only just hitting on the blunt side rather than the terrible, razor-honed blade. I felt my feet being lifted from the ground, and though I'd managed to stop myself from being torn apart, the blow was still so powerful that it threw me through the air. I gasped out a breath of air and the world resumed its normal pace, plummeting me back into the carpet of white in an instant. Sweat was beading on my brow, brought on by my physical exertion and the warping of perceived time, which was a strenuous in itself. I barely managed to keep my footing in the rough landing. As soon as I was balanced I again forced myself back into the slowed perception of time. I knew that without that advantage, I would surely be dead.
The monster had followed me almost as fast as I had fallen, and as time slowed, and the chaos of falling snow dissipated into the eerie dance of the world at a near standstill, I could see its terrible teeth reaching out to grab my arm. I yanked the arm away as fast as I dared do so, and its teeth caught my sword instead. I attempted to tear the sword free, hoping to cause some damage in the process, but the Fell Beast's teeth were more powerful than any blacksmith's vice and I couldn't recover my blade from those locked jaws. In the meantime, as I struggled to free my weapon, the creature's forward motion carried it into me, driving us both into the deep snow. There was white everywhere, and I was trapped in its consuming darkness, just myself and the thrashing monster above me. I used all my considerable muscle to heave at my sword, but was only rewarded with the terrible shaking of the creature's jaws as it attempted to pull my weapon away from me. The blade hilt, wet from the snow, slipped through my fingers with surprising ease. I kicked up with my right leg as hard as I could and scored a hit between the creature's legs. I knew little of Fell Beasts, but if the one attacking me was male, and if it had anything like familiar anatomy, I was staking my hopes that it would find such an attack quite off-putting. It was a desperate move, but it was all I had left in the position I was in.
There was a fearsome yelp of pain and suddenly the pressure was gone from my chest. I struggled to my feet, knowing the beast would not remain gone long. I fumbled through the snow in search of my weapon, my hope draining away with every fragment of a second it took to find it, but my hand brushed cold metal in short order and I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. I recovered my sword and stood up, ready to fight once more. The beast was not far away. It stood maybe five feet apart from me, its face contorted into a fearsome snarl of rage, barely visible between gusts of snow. One of its claws was dripping, and I briefly thought I might have injured the beast with my sword when I blocked its blow at the beginning of our fight. I realized, only a second later, that it was I who was injured. There was a terrible pain stemming from my lower abdomen, and I realized with alarm that the demon of a beast had torn through my cloak and into my flesh at some point while we fought in the snow. My ability to heal was working on the injury, but it was no minor cut, and the healing would take time. I didn't have time. If I did not win out in the next pass, my time would be up. I wasn't being pessimistic - I simply knew that the creature was too powerful, and too well adapted to its environment for me to last more than one more encounter. Another injury would weaken me further, and I could ill afford that. Already my body was burning with its efforts to both heal my wounds and maintain my control in slow time.
I brought my sword up in front of me and readied myself for the final pass. There was a flash, and I pushed my perception back into my only advantage. The beast was ripping through the snow, kicking up a torrent of powder in its wake and coming at me with such speed as I'd only ever seen the Knights of Ethan use. I knew my body didn't want to move fast enough to do what was necessary to stop the Fell Beast from killing me, but I also knew that it would have to or nothing I had been through would matter to anyone. I concentrated all my will into my arms and forced them to push past their limits. Within the crawling frame of time I heard a roaring crack as the bones in my arms shattered with the force and speed of my motion to bring my sword into position. I leveled the point at my enemy and used everything else I had to stab forward. The beast apparently could move fast, but couldn't see things the way I did, because it charged head-long into my weapon, not expecting me to have been able to ready the blade in time to do what was necessary. I did it though, the effort costing me dearly. The bones in my hands and arms shattered as though struck by a hammer, and the muscles and ligaments holding everything together tore to shreds. If not for the force of the initial ex
ertion, and the momentum of the beast, my blow would have had nothing solid behind it, for my arms were destroyed. The strike, however, was true, and the blade split the monster's skull in half and it fell dead, tumbling through the snow and knocking me from my feet in the process. The world lurched back into normal time.
My sword flew from my shattered hands and fell into the snow some feet away, and I collapsed back into the snow, the velocity of my enemy carrying us both backward into the world of whiteness. I couldn't move because all of my energy was expended, and I couldn't begin to remove the dead creature from where it lay on top of me. My arms were useless wells of terrible pain, doing nothing more than throbbing in fearsome, angry protestation at the damage I had wrought upon them. I screamed a cry of pure agony into the night, certain no one would hear me, but equally certain I couldn't possibly keep all the pain inside. I wanted to black out, but my new body was better than that. It wouldn't let me lose consciousness while I was still suffering and in such a precarious situation. I lay for what seemed like forever, hoping the pain might stop sometime soon, but knowing that it would not. The damage I had done might take days to repair. I had broken bones in practice, and they'd healed in a few hours, but I had never so thoroughly destroyed part of my body before. I wasn't even certain the damage could be repaired entirely.
I must have lain in the snow for nearly two hours before I first heard footsteps approaching, crunching through the soft packed field of white. At first I panicked, fearful that another beast was coming, but the notion only bothered me initially. I was hurt, alone, and buried in the snow. I was going to die whether some monster killed me or not, and at that moment in time I didn't care how I met my end, so long as there was an end. Thoughts of dying soon fled, though, when I heard muffled voices from beyond the dome of snow that had formed over me and the dead Fell Beast.
