King Beast - Vicious Flames

Chapter 4

The moon poured a creamy light onto the forest beneath, just as the wind was busy whispering secrets to the tall trees hung with moss, forming a canopy that kept the ground beneath in perennial darkness even during the day.

Two twin spheres were glowing from that dense foliage; from time to time, they disappeared, only to reappear immediately after. A short-eared owl was watching its surroundings from its home, that century-old oak; a seedling compared to the ageless creatures that swarmed about those lands.

There was a female marmot somewhere, desperate enough to dare challenge the night. The owl had it all planned: first, he would lunge and kill, second, he would quickly devour the uncooperative flesh. Only then, could he relax and enjoy dessert; he had been patient, waiting for her squeaky youngsters to grow up a little, suckled by the milk of the mother he had let live.

While that hunter was preparing for the upcoming feast, we were being led to our own slaughter.

Gravel crunched in protest as horse hooves and wheels trampled over it. My gated carriage tilted a little before it came to a final stop. A long exhale left my mouth as my eyes followed the veins of my hands, folded on my lap. Here we go.

Like the cattle we were, about a dozen of us poured out of the carriages.

"Start running immediately," I chanted to myself, my thumb shot up from my clenched hand at my side, "Never turn back," My index finger snapped down to join as I counted, "Never, ever leave the trail," My hand counted until three, "And pray to the moon, and all other satellites, that they will pretend you are not here. And if they don't, ignore them, and if they catch someone, don't look." I had run out of fingers by then.

Half a day to cross Molten Land through the path lit by blue torches on each side. We were warned against leaving the marked route, alone or not.

"Don't let go of my hand," I reminded Gianni as I craned my neck. With glasses thicker than most skulls, secured at the back of his head with a string, laces strangling his shoes, knotted twice, my Gianni looked prepared.

"I l-love you Odette, but if I were to stumble or fall-"

"Hush!" I elbowed him and he jerked away with a yelp. "We'll get out of here."

My conviction was real, palpable. Gianni hesitated, clearly not believing me but managed to throw a smile my way regardless.

I had no time to comfort him.

It was time to run.

And only that counted.

Fog pawed at the narrow, blue-lit path that meandered left and right until it disappeared.

My legs and feet darted forward, bringing me into the unknown as fast as possible, pulling Gianni behind me.

The blue fires quietly playing with the breeze guided my eyes, fear commanded my legs, determination pumped my heart. I focused on the faces of my father and my brother and on the empty chairs around the dining table where my mother and sister were supposed to sit.

Follow the blue torches. Stay on the path.

The air grew thicker. The aroma of the pine mingled with that of rust.

Sweat broke out, pouring off me in streams. I will win. I will leave. I will come back home.

Our feet took us to the Valley.

Bizarre sculptures and their macabre silence greeted us. The sight was not intended to please: war elephants, fish-heads, gargoyles with folded wings, grotesque grimacing humanoids stood in a row, facing one another.