The Shadow That Answered

The wheels of the carriage creaked rhythmically against the dirt path, muffled beneath the hush of forest wind. Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees above, falling across Princess Annya's stern face as she gripped the reins tightly. Her eyes remained forward, vigilant, while behind her, the quiet breathing of the injured boy echoed softly in the cramped cabin.

I stirred slowly. My body felt heavy, as if weighed down by memories and wounds alike. Pain shot through my side, and I let out a small grunt. A soft hand touched my forehead. Warmth — not just magical, but almost human in its gentleness — flowed through me. I turned slightly and saw her.

The fox-woman.

Her ears twitched as she focused on my wounds, her hands glowing faintly with healing magic. There was a distant sadness in her eyes, a quiet grief buried beneath every gentle motion.

"What's your name…?" I croaked, my throat dry.

She didn't look up. Her voice was calm, yet firm. "You should rest for now. You shouldn't move or speak too much… your wounds are deep."

There was hesitation in her words — or maybe fear. Was she scared of me too? After what I had done back there… the rampage… the darkness?

But as she continued to heal me, I felt a warmth spread through my limbs — not just her magic, but something more familiar. A warmth I remembered from Jonathan. Something… fatherly. Protective. She was patching me up with care, silently, and yet it felt like she was doing more than just closing wounds.

My body would hold. I could stand now. Walk, even. The bleeding had slowed, and most of the deeper cuts had been sealed.

The carriage jolted. A wheel bounced over a rock, snapping me from my thoughts. The road ahead was long. Annya had said the next town was a full day's journey, even by carriage. And I couldn't help but feel anxious.

Those women we left behind… those girls who'd protected me when I was at my worst — were they alright?

Suddenly, as if reading my mind, the fox-woman said softly, "They're going to be alright."

I turned my head sharply. "How… how did you know I was thinking about them?"

She smiled faintly, her gaze never leaving my side. "It's written all over your face. That fear. But not for your own sake. For someone else's."

I was silent.

"So…" I began slowly. "How did you end up with those people?"

Her expression changed — like a mask slipping off. The composed, silent healer vanished, and in her place, someone broken emerged. Her lips trembled, and tears began to gather in her amber eyes.

"My hometown…" she whispered. "It was burned to the ground."

Her voice shook.

"Dark beasts — let loose on us like hounds — by humans. Humans who think we're cursed. Semi-humans. Monsters in their eyes."

She swallowed hard.

"They were a branch of the Devil Banishers. They came at night. We heard the screams first. Then… fire. Blood. Our homes were torched. People were eaten alive. The wells ran red. They made sure nothing was left — no future, no hope."

Her hands clenched into trembling fists. "My brother… he gave his life to let me escape. He faced them alone while I ran. I didn't even get to say goodbye. Our royal guards… they were no match. They were torn apart. I was the only one who survived."

She wiped her tears away, her hands trembling. "And then… I was caught in the forest. Dragged, chained, treated like an animal."

I wanted to say something. But what could I say? Her pain… it felt too close. Too raw.

Then — a loud, deafening crack.

The carriage rocked violently. Annya screamed from the front.

I leapt out, heart pounding, ignoring the pain in my legs. I landed on the road and stared ahead — a dark, monstrous figure stood in our path. Hulking. Massive. Its presence alone made the air feel heavier.

A dark beast. And not a weak one.

Its eyes burned with malice. Black fur bristled, and claws like blades scraped the dirt. Even a fool could tell — this thing was strong. Too strong.

I unsheathed my sword and called out, "Spirit! Answer me!"

No response.

Silence.

Damn it. I was alone this time.

The beast lunged.

I dodged and countered with a slash. It deflected. I struck again — and again — a barrage of blows, but it parried each one like swatting flies. Then, in an instant, its tail whipped like lightning — piercing straight through my thigh.

I screamed.

It lifted me into the air like a ragdoll, blood dripping from the wound. My vision blurred. Pain roared in my skull.

But then — a flash of black mist.

"Run!" I shouted. "Annya, run!"

But she didn't listen.

Instead, she stood beside me, eyes burning with rage. Her hands weaved a strange pattern — shadows twisted around her, forming a dome of absolute darkness.

"Shadow Den," she whispered.

A forbidden spell.

A torrent of black shadows burst forth, engulfing the area. I could see nothing — yet, I wasn't afraid. The shadows weren't meant to blind us — only the enemy. It was her domain.

From within the darkness, a bolt of green light flashed like thunder.

Something moved — a streak, too fast for the eye. A punch landed like a god's wrath.

The beast staggered.

I dropped to the ground, gasping. Pain screamed through my leg, but I forced myself to stand. Gritting my teeth, I raised my sword and rushed forward — one final strike.

"RAAAAGH!"

The blade found its mark. Right through the neck.

Black blood exploded like a geyser. The beast gave one final shudder… and collapsed.

Silence.

I dropped to my knees.

A hand touched my back.

I looked up.

She was smiling — the fox-woman, tears still in her eyes, but her expression soft.

"My name…" she said gently, "…is Amilia."

The world spun.

And for the first time since Jonathan died… I smiled too.

Bottom of Form