“Wahoooooo!” Rinne’s loud yell echoed throughout the jungle as Zarts raced through the narrow dirt path. The trees, tall and looming, passed by in dark brown blurs and the light of the sun came and went in a flash. Sheltered by a rich canopy of leaves, the Soreado Jungles earned its name as a jungle denied by the sun.

  The only visible source of light, besides the torch attached to the saddle, which cast an orange glow, was the occasional fungi. Their dark, luminescent light created a chilling atmosphere as it painted the jungle in otherworldly hues.

  Vines wrapped around every corner, a testament to the all-encompassing growth of the jungle. Creatures that couldn't be seen lived on the vines, their eyes glowing in the dark. They were aware of the dangers of the road, so they kept a silent vigil, waiting for unwary prey to stray from the path.

  “This is fun!” The unwary, Rinne, sang with a carefree tone. He leaned outward, hair fluttering in the wind, and extended his hand off the mount, letting out a giggle each time his fingers touched a vine.

  “Don't lean too far!” Enyah called out from ahead of him, raising her voice over the rushing wind. “Those lixsises'll tear you apart in a second. Not a comfortable way to die.”

  Enyah’s goggles protected her eyes from the slicing air as she squinted ahead. Her red hair, sewn into a ponytail, trailed behind her, while her grey cloak rippled violently, almost hitting Rinne as Zarts surged along.

  “Okay!” Rinne responded cheerfully, pulling his hand back leisurely, as if unperturbed by her warning. His wide eyed gaze remained fixed on the jungle, taking in the ambiance as if entranced.

  “You want to hear a story about this forest?” Enyah said ominously, her voice dropping low and with a dark grin on her face that Rinne couldn't see.

  “Sure!” Rinne responded innocently, unaware of the shift in her demeanor. He turned to face Enyah's back, which was around a meter in front of her on the lizard's back.

  She turned back to face him, her face hiding her emotions, “There's a tale among the sailors about a–”

  Enyah’s words halted abruptly upon feeling a familiar prickle down her back. Her expression turned dark and she turned forward, leaving one hand on the reins and one grabbing her cutlass.

  “Get down!” She barked in command. In a flash, she raised sword to block a dart that shot through the dark. Poisoned, most likely.

  “Get down? What sort of story–” Rinne began, his confusion apparent.

  “It means duck! We’re being attacked.” Enyah snapped, moving her cutlass hand to hold the reins while grabbing her pistol.

  With a loud crack a ball was shot, her aim directed by the prickle of her ability. A distant groan of pain indicated a hit, but she didn’t spare a moment to stop and check. Let the beasts have their fill.

  A quick glance at the back and Rinne was crouched down, curiously looking around, but his lips pressed in silence. Good enough. She turned back and sheathed her flintlock, leaving behind one last remark. “Hold on!”

  Enyah flexed her legs inwardly, a signal to Zarts that he quickly responded to. With a rumbling growl, he sped up, his legs thrusting into the dirt ground.

  Two cloaked figures leapt from the trees, missing their target by more than a few paces. They landed hard on the ground, but wasted no movement in getting their bearings and starting their chase. However, they soon drifted out of sight, their running speed no match for the lizard.

  Enyah watched them disappear over the distance with narrowed eyes, turning back only when they were fully gone.

  The sounds of the jungle and the whispering of the wind was all that remained. That didn't stop Enyah from keeping her eyes focused on the jungles ahead and her cutlass at the ready.

  “Are we safe now?” Rinne whispered, his sound breaking the silence. He stuck his head up and peeked from side to side, nervously eying the vines and fungi surrounding them.

  “With them? No.” Enyah frowned, her voice tinged with frustration. Fighting zealots was always the worst. “They're relentless. They'll keep coming. Keep your head down, we won't be safe during this journey.”

  “Yes, miss Enyah.” He spoke softly, but steady. He listened, putting his head down, but his eyes wandered as if he had plenty more to say. It wasn't the time, Enyah shook her head, pushing the grim thoughts away. All that remained was a burning determination.

  The dense jungle began to widen slightly and in the far distance she could see a clearing, subtly hidden by the foliage. One she recognized instantly, A checkpoint for travellers traversing the treacherous jungle where they could eat and rest. It was a sanctuary, one well respected. With Zarts speed, she considered skipping the first checkpoint in its entirety, instead resting at the second. Perhaps there’s ambushers at the inn, waiting for them to let their guard down to strike. It’ll buy them time.

  Her thoughts scattered when her eyes caught sight of a glistening thread on the ground. A thin rope, nearly invisible in the shade, lay across the path. Enyah’s eyes widened.

  “Grab the saddle!” She called back to Rinne, her voice rushed and commanding. She was unable to see if he listened to her, instead wrangling at the reins, pulling them in a desperate attempt to slow Zarts before he could get struck. With a sharp chirp he slowed down, his claws digging into the dirt in an attempt to decelerate. It wasn’t fast enough, however, as his legs caught on the rope.

  He buckled and leaned forward, his momentum hurtling him towards the ground. With a guttural squawk, Zarts’ small, clawed hands reached out and scraped the ground, steadying himself while his back legs pushed through the rope and beyond with a snap, regaining his balance.

  Enyah held on tight during the chaos, but didn't forget to lean forward and give Zarts a few strokes on his scaled neck after he regained his footing. She muttered a soft “Good boy.” under her breath. Their enemies weren't keen on giving them time to enjoy their success., however. Three cloaked figures rushed towards their position from the depths of the jungles, swords gleaming from their waists.

  She slipped off his back with precision and braced herself, cutlass gleaming in her hand. Without any communication, two went for her and one went for the boy. Their faces underneath their cloaks were human, but looked empty. Their unblinking, soulless eyes stared at her as they both unsheathed their swords in unison. It was unsettling. Inhuman. It made her stomach churn, but she ignored it. She had a job to do.

  Enyah put a firm hand on Zarts’ cold, scaly shoulder. He knew what to do.

  “Stay on Zarts.” Enyah barked at Rinne, her voice a firm command. He didn't respond, but she saw him trying his best to huddle hidden behind the giant lizard. Smart move, he was much too young for self-sacrificial heroics.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  A grin grew on her face, sharp and predatory. The lust for the hunt was insatiable. She stepped back, distancing herself with her attackers. They followed her movements, their robotic walking turning into a dash with their swords aimed for an overhead strike.

  Enyah’s instincts raised. Her gift, so familiar, sent prickles , but she barely needed it. Their movements were mechanical. Predictable.

  With ease, she blocked both swords with her cutlass, sending sparks into the air in their clash. They moved against her in unison, their strikes of exact strength. Enyah narrowed her eyes, shifting her weight and punching the gut of one of the attackers, landing a solid hit. Though he paused for a moment, his unnerving, unblinking stare locked onto her, sword poised for his next attack.

  “They don't feel pain.” Enyah muttered to herself, her grin turning grim. “got it.”

  They struck again, this time adjusting their position to strike from opposite sides. Enyah worked her mind quickly, analyzing her next move. In less than a heartbeat, she threw her full weight to the right, blocking the right’s blade with her cutlass. Using the momentum, she pushed forward and twisted her body, pulling herself out of the left figure’s reach. The strike of the left figure continued, but was now aimed towards his companion's back. Instead of hitting, it halted less than a hand’s length away.

  Enyah didn’t give them the chance to recover, swiftly moving her cutlass and she jabbing the figure on the right with her sword. He fell into a crumpled heap, only stopping his movement after another quick strike in the heart ended his life for good.

  She took a quick glance at Zart. The massive lizard was shaking a limp figure in his mouth like a doll and giving a growl of triumph. There wasn’t a scratch on him.

  “You did great, boy.” Enyah murmured, his actions bringing a smile to her face. But the lack of a familiar prickle beside her made her furrow her brows and snap her attention back to the zealot.

  The figure was staring straight at the fallen body that she’d cut down, not moving a muscle. A shimmer appeared in the darkness of the jungle, a single tear glistening underneath the hood of his cloak.

  Some sort of repressed emotions? Enyah assumed, but it didn't lessen the sour emotions rising up. They weren’t just puppets, they were still living.

  “First the Ferals, now this.” Enyah muttered darkly under her breath, tightening her grip on her cutlass. Her muttering turned into a growl of anger. “These zealots-no, these cultists, really love to prey on the desperate.”

  At the sound of her voice, the zealot’s head turned towards her, his face remaining neutral. It formed a cruel contrast with the tear slowly falling down his face. However, his neutral face couldn’t hide the hatred that appeared in his eyes. Whether towards her or towards the religion that turned them into these puppets, she wasn't sure.

  Right now, as much as she hated it, it didn't matter. They were enemies.

  “The battlefield’s a sacred place, dragon. A place of honor, yes but also much more.” Drantei spoke in her ear, a vision from the past. “Your hate. Your grief. Your rage. Leave it behind, no matter how confident you are. Let only one thought fill your mind.”

  She raised her free hand, placing it on her forehead where she felt the force of a poke. A poke that felt so familiar… so nostalgic…

  Now it was just a phantom, the force a hallucination of her mind.

  “Victory.” Drantei’s deep voice echoed to an empty audience. Enyah's sword was already impaled in the man, who flopped down onto the road.

  Three more bodies lay on the dirt ground, their bodies illuminated in the dark green sheen of the jungle.

  “You alright?” She looked over to Zarts, who was preening his array of feathers with his snout, but raised his head when he felt her eyes on him. With a loud chirp he lunged at her, placing his head gently against her chest and closed his eyes.

  “I'm okay!” A small voice echoed Zarts’ chirp behind him as a head poked to the side.

  “Good.” Enyah responded with a nod before indulging Zarts, scratching his cold, scaly neck absentmindedly.

  Should they skip sleep tonight? Probably not, Enyah shook her head. Protecting the kid while sleep deprived didn't sound like a comfortable prospect.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling coo from Zarts. A thankful distraction, she mused. Better time to consider their situation would be on the move.

  Enyah moved away and started to pick up a body, hoisting the pale skinned corpse onto her shoulder. It was light and malnourished. She could feel the hardened bone of ribs poking at her as she walked and deposited the body in the bushes beside the path.

  She repeated the process with the other two bodies, leaving nothing but blood soaked in the dirt. Blood that beasts would swarm to lap up the moment she moved on.

  Enyah leapt onto the saddle, giving Zart’s feathers a soft brush.

  “Let’s go.” Enyah murmured a command and with a sharp trill the lizard sped off, leaving nothing but a dusty trail in his wake.

  The first checkpoint came and went in a blink, Zarts charging through the open area only for the jungle to close in around them once again.

  Their journey was silent. Enyah didn't speak, instead splitting her attention between the clear path ahead and the thoughts that wouldn’t leave her.

  The puppets were different from the Replian faith, she mused. That religion attracted the destitute through speeches and promises of a better, purer world. Which sort of religion would turn their believers into these… husks? They weren’t desperate. Not anymore. They were like the dead, a life with no life. Which God demands such a punishment of their followers?

  Fallor, the God of the dead's faith could possibly do something like this. His religion yearns for life beyond death, and resurrection of the dead. But these puppets still lived.

  Or perhaps Giltic, the God of unity. A hivemind like this could be seen as some sort of twistic unification.

  Her musing was interrupted from a small, trembling voice behind her.

  “Are they coming after me?” Rinne whispered behind barely reaching beyond the roaring wind.

  “Yes.” Enyah replied, her voice flat and determined. She felt his fear and guilt. Her words were probably harsh to Rinne, but it would be better for him to know the truth. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve been suitably paid for your protection.”

  “Is it worth as much as your life?” Rinne asked, his small voice suddenly hardening, turning sharper than a knife.

  Enyah’s grip on the reins tightened. She couldn't see his expression, nor did she turn to check. She didn’t want to see it.. Not now.

  “Yes.” Enyah affirmed, her voice hardening to match his. “Yes it is.”

  A moment of silence, then Rinne backed down, his voice shrinking again. “Oh…”

  Silence again pervaded the forest. Enyah grimaced, the silence slowly becoming unnerving, bearing down on her. Only the thudding of Zarts’ claws and the wind’s hum invaded her ear.

  “How about I continue that story?” Enyah said, making her tone light while focusing her eyes on the road.

  She felt him shift around uneasily behind her, “But what if we're attacked again?” Rinne’s worried reply sounded back, but she could hear a tinge of enthusiasm hidden within. The curiosity of a child’s hard to hamper.

  “I'd be surprised if there's any truly difficult fight nearby.” Enyah responded casually, a grin on her face. “This is the middle of nowhere. There wouldn't be any high ranking zealots near here.”

  A resounding sigh replaced her grin though as Enyah continued, “The ones we’ve seen so far, They’re only the lowest ring of these religions. Poor folks sent to their deaths only to soften us up for the real threats.”

  “Those people…” Rinne uttered behind her, his voice full of pain. Did he feel empathy for them, Enyah wondered. His voice began, soft but filled with determination. “I'll change things. I'll make it better.”

  “Grand ambitions, little man.” Enyah whistled, her tone light, but tinged with skepticism. “But many have tried. Nobody can be everywhere at once. Every village, every town has its own problems. You'll see soon enough.”

  She remembered most of them. Henry the Wise. Jelloriah of the Light. Queen Bernai. All great humans who once inspired hope. Now all that remained was their faded legacies. All of them tried to change this world, and all of them failed.

  Maybe the world just couldn't be saved. Enyah shook her head. Not that she’d ever try. Just sticking to her morals was enough for her.

  “Well… I’ll try my best!” Rinne’s voice sounded and broke her thoughts. Enyah could hear the determination pooled in his voice. Determination much larger than his small stature would suggest.

  “Then let's make sure you get back home alive, yeah?” Enyah spoke back, Her tone heavy with caution. A warning for the young boy. “So I don't want any heroics out of you, alright? Stay out of trouble.”

  “Yes!” Rinne called out, his tone vibrant, catching Enyah off guard. She couldn't tell what part of her words impacted him like that, but she decided against questioning it.

  “Now.” Enyah moved on, her tone light and face shifting back to a confident grin. “About that story. There's a tale all sailors tell their kids about this jungle.”

  Enyah received no response behind her, though she could feel Rinne’s gaze locked onto her, as if her words were all he could hear.

  “A man was walking down a path. The same path we’re on now, in fact.” Enya started, lowering her tone to a rasp and letting the eerie atmosphere of the jungle speak through her. “It was his first time visiting here, and as he walked, he spotted a primfruit through the leaves.”

  “A primfruit? Like the really really tasty kind?” Rinne butted in, seeing the familiar word.

  “The very one.” Enyah confirmed, reveling in the drama. “It's a delicacy to people here, but it can only be found nearby within the jungle. The man, hungry for profit, left the path and journeyed to the fruit.”

  “Oh no..” Rinne mumbled quietly, barely heard over the wind.

  “Past the leaves, he found a single fruit. He plucked the fruit and journeyed back to the path, triumphant. Except… he couldn't find the path!” Enyah droned on, her voice echoing within the thick jungle.

  “It was right behind him though!” Rinne spoke with rising panic, eying the jungle around them.

  Enyah smirked to herself, This was the reaction she wanted. “It was. He was sure of it, yet when he turned back, wherever he looked, it was nothing but jungle. The trees surrounded him, it was all he could see. And then, he heard voices.”

  She felt Rinne shake behind her and she lowered her voice, darker than the jungle around them. “He followed the voices and came upon a massive mansion, as big as a castle, covered in leaves and vine. It was full of laughter, of partying. It seemed like a haven within the jungle depths, so he stepped up and knocked.”

  “Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.” Enyah mimicked the knocks, the sound slow and heavy. “And all the voices went silent. The door creaked open and then…”

  “And then..?” Rinne’s voice trembled, his pitch raising higher and higher.

  “Nobody knows.” Enyah said, finishing her story. “The only thing we know is that a local heard screams and went to help. All they saw was a single primfruit on the ground, surrounded by screams of death. Some say it's a realm of death. Others think it was all in his head. It could even be the jungle playing its tricks on greedy thieves..”

  “Eep!” Rinne squealed, holding tighter onto Zarts, who let out a rumbling coo in response. “This jungle is haunted?”

  “Yes, little lamb.” Enyah spoke with a sly grin, reveling in his unease. “Every kid in the port knows the story. They know curiosity can kill So be afraid, child. Be very afraid.”

  Enyah finally turned back to look at Rinne, who wasn’t looking in his best condition. His grip was tight and he let out a few whimpers. He looked at her face, which was teasing, yet serious. Her tone carried a warning for the child. “After all, curious kids like you…” Enyah paused, letting the words hang in the dark jungle air. “Always die young.”