Paths Beyond

Another 3000 here. I hope everyone enjoys, I finished this up in my free time at work since I had my end of year party in the afternoon. In Japan, this is a very common and important work party, I am scheduling the chapter the day after. I drank quite a bit, but many of my coworkers were surprised that I could speak Japanese, being to shy before to ask me anything. It was a great night. Anyway, Enjoy the story, as usual, another one tomorrow!

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Grey's silver eyes darted to the towering crystalline spears encircling them, their jagged edges glowing faintly with a sickly nodes of green light. They stood still, unmoving, but Grey could see it—the green energy crawling like serpents from the old man's skeletal frame, pooling into the base of each icicle.

When the light reached the tips, they trembled.

A terrible realization struck Grey like an arrow to the chest. His breath hitched, his throat tightening as he screamed, voice cracking with panic:

"They're gonna move!"

But it was too late.

The spears erupted forward in violent bursts, shards of razor-sharp crystal slicing through the frozen air. The sound was deafening—a chorus of cracking glass and tearing flesh. Hunters were impaled where they stood, their cries snuffed out in an instant. Pelts were torn, armor shattered, and the ground turned slick with fresh blood freezing over icy earth.

Spider's sharp eyes caught sight of Daunt—the young squadmate who had stabbed the girl apprentice in the earlier skirmish. Daunt was frozen, staring at the incoming spears with wide, glassy eyes. Spider lunged, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him out of the way.

"Move, Daunt—"

The warning became a choking gasp as a spear of ice slammed through Spider's chest, splintering bone and carving a cavernous wound through his torso. His body sagged against the jagged ice, blood trickling from his lips as he crumpled forward.

"NO!" Wild's voice cracked, raw and trembling with anguish as she staggered back, clutching at a fallen squadmate's limp hand before being forced to retreat.

Nearby, Serene stood utterly still. Her bow hung limply from her hand, her emerald eyes wide and glassy as her mind fractured under the weight of it all. The dead girl. The arrow. The scream. The blood. It was all looping endlessly in her head—a silent wail reverberating in her skull. Her knees buckled, and she crumpled into the snow, numb to the chaos around her.

A sharp glint of ice caught Shot's eye—an incoming spear aimed directly at Serene's motionless form.

"Serene, MOVE!" Shot roared, her voice raw with desperation.

In a burst of motion, Shot lunged, shoving Serene out of the path of the spear. The shard slammed into Shot's thigh instead, punching clean through her leg with a sickening crunch. Shot screamed, collapsing to the ground, her hands clutching the shard embedded in her flesh.

Serene snapped back into reality, her chest heaving with sharp, panicked breaths. She scrambled toward Shot, her trembling fingers trying to lift her friend despite the chaos around them.

Grey appeared at her side, pulling Shot's arm over his shoulder.

"We've got her! Move, Serene! Move!" Grey shouted.

Brawl, despite his massive size and scorched, charred flesh, swung his club in sweeping arcs, shattering smaller shards of ice before they could strike. But every swing sent flashes of agony through his burned shoulders and arms, raw flesh splitting further under the strain. Steam rose faintly from the bloody gashes where the freezing air met scorched skin. His face twisted in pain, teeth bared, but he didn't stop—shielding those nearest him with his hulking frame.

But amidst the chaos, Keen didn't hesitate.

There was no warning, no signal—just motion. Keen shot forward like a thunderbolt, his spear flashing in the blizzard's dim light. His speed was unnatural, his presence a force of nature tearing through the storm. The blizzard howled around him, frost creeping at his heels, but he didn't falter.

The old man's pale blue eyes narrowed slightly, his skeletal hands rising in fluid, deliberate gestures. Walls of jagged ice erupted from the ground, thick and crystalline, forming barriers between him and Keen. But Keen didn't stop. His spear met every wall with unrelenting force, shattering each icy defense into glittering shards. Each step drove the old man further back, his frail frame weaving sigils in the air with furious precision.

The storm's rhythm shifted. The barrage of falling spears paused, the chaos stuttering for just a moment.

Grey, panting, his breath fogging in the freezing air, lifted his head and squinted into the storm. And then he saw it—a space amidst the chaos.

An absence.

A spot where the storm didn't rage, where the green energy didn't gather. The air was still, clear—a fragile calm surrounded by devastation. The place where the old man had once stood.

"There!" Grey's voice cracked as he pointed. "Where Keen's pushing him! That's the only way out! MOVE!"

Wild grabbed Daunt, practically dragging him by his collar. Fleet, Root, and Charge each hauled up an unconscious squadmate, their faces streaked with sweat and frost.

Serene, her arms trembling, clutched Shot's arm tighter as Grey helped pull her forward.

"Keep going, Serene! Don't stop!" Grey urged.

Brawl, shielding the rear, moved last. His massive frame absorbed smaller shards of flying ice, but the pain was wearing him down. His burned shoulders bled freely now, his scorched flesh cracking with every motion. The giant hunter staggered, teeth clenched against the unbearable pain, but he didn't stop moving.

The storm was fighting back.

Icicles burst upward from the ground, narrowly missing Fleet's legs. Charge shoved a squadmate out of the way just as a shard speared the air where their chest had been moments before. Wild tripped, her boots catching on uneven ice, and Daunt had to drag her up again.

Serene's boots skidded on slick ice as Grey pulled Shot along, her leg leaving a bloody trail across the frostbitten earth. Grey's silver eyes flicked upward, his breath quickening as he saw the spears trembling again, green light pulsing within them.

The safe spot was getting closer—but the ice was faster.

A loud, guttural roar erupted behind them.

Brawl, just feet from the clearing's center, froze mid-step. A spear of ice had slammed into his shoulder, punching through his charred flesh and bursting out the other side. His massive form staggered, steam rising from the wound, blood pouring in thick rivulets. With a snarl, he reached up with trembling hands and wrenched the shard free, roaring through clenched teeth.

He stumbled forward, falling to his knees at the edge of the eye of the storm before dragging himself fully into the calm space.

Finally, they were there—breathless, bloodied, and broken.

The howling storm formed a swirling prison around them, jagged ice walls shimmering with emerald light. Outside, Keen and the old man clashed like titans, each strike sending shockwaves through the frost-choked battlefield.

The old man's icy shields cracked and shattered under Keen's relentless strikes, but new ones formed just as quickly. His pale blue eyes were alight with fury.

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"We need to help," Brawl ordered through gritted teeth, his voice raw with pain and urgency. "Grey, Shot…" His eyes landed on Serene, who stood frozen, clutching her bow with trembling fingers, her wide eyes distant and unfocused—she wore the same hollow look Grey had carried earlier in the night.

"Serene!" Brawl's voice thundered, snapping her from her stupor. "Shoot. As many arrows as you can. Avoid Keen."

Serene swallowed hard, her fingers fumbling at her quiver, but she nodded.

"Charge, Fleet, Root," Brawl continued, his voice gravelly, sharp, and unwavering. "Find your moments. Throw your spears when he's distracted. We don't need to kill him—we just need to give Keen an opening. Do not stop. Do you hear me?"

The squad moved into action. Arrows flew through the biting air, streaks of wood and steel aimed with desperate precision. Spears followed, cutting jagged paths through the dissipating blizzard. Grey loosed arrow after arrow, his hands steady despite his thundering heartbeat, while Serene's breaths came sharp and ragged with every pull of her bowstring.

The old man twisted his skeletal frame with terrifying agility, jagged shields of translucent ice bursting into existence with every flick of his hand. But even he couldn't deflect everything—not while Keen was upon him.

"Damn you!" the old man snarled, his voice cracking with both rage and exertion.

Keen was relentless, a figure of primal fury and raw strength. Every swing of his spear shattered barriers, sent shards of ice scattering into the wind. The air around them crackled with tension as each blow landed closer and closer to the old man's frail body.

But the old man wasn't done.

With a sharp gesture, he swept one skeletal hand upward. The ground beneath him surged with green radiance that only Grey could see, and for a fleeting moment, the storm seemed to still—like the breath before a predator pounces.

Then, the blizzard began to fade.

The biting winds grew sluggish. The swirling snowflakes fell limp, drifting softly to the frostbitten ground. The jagged spires of ice stopped growing, their sharp edges glinting faintly in the moonlight.

But as the storm died, the old man's power coalesced into something else—something desperate, something unnatural.

A shield thicker and denser than any before erupted around his frail form. Its translucent surface shimmered with veins of green light, pulsating like a dying star. Keen's spear struck it once—twice—each blow causing cracks to spiderweb across its crystalline surface.

And then, with a final devastating strike, the barrier shattered into glittering shards.

But the old man had been preparing for this.

His pale lips twisted into something halfway between a grin and a grimace. With one trembling hand, he traced a jagged rune in the air, his eyes burning with a venomous glow.

There was a sound like cracking glass—a sharp, crystalline snap—and the old man's frail body shot skyward in an explosion of emerald energy. He rose with inhuman speed, his robes whipping violently in the wind, his skeletal silhouette momentarily framed against the pale moonlight.

Far above the clearing, he hovered, his frail form trembling with the effort it took to maintain the magic sustaining him in the air. Sweat streamed down his gaunt face, and his pale blue eyes blazed with something vicious, something raw and unhinged.

He pointed one trembling, accusing finger downward—at Keen, at Grey, at Serene, at all of them.

"You—" his voice came sharp and ragged, yet it carried across the clearing with unnatural clarity. "You will all pay for this."

His lips pulled back in a snarl, spit flying as his words turned venomous. "I will find you again. And when I do, I will not stop until every single one of you is dead. Your friends. Your parents. Your children. I will burn your villages to ash and leave nothing but silence where your names once echoed."

His bony hand clenched into a fist, and for a brief moment, green energy crackled around him like an unholy aura.

"You cannot hide from me. None of you can escape what's coming."

Then, his body twisted sharply, his robes snapping like banners in a storm. With one final surge of emerald light, the old man shot into the sky, disappearing into the endless black void above the trees.

The clearing fell into heavy silence, the aftershock of his departure reverberating through the air. Snow drifted gently down, the pale moonlight casting faint glows upon the bloodstained earth.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then Keen's shoulders sagged, his spear's tip sinking into the frozen ground. His breaths came in harsh gasps, steam billowing from his lips into the frigid air.

Grey's fingers slackened on his bowstring, his silver eyes still locked on the space where the old man had vanished. Serene sank to her knees, her bow falling limply from her hands as tears spilled silently down her pale cheeks.

The battle was over. But the weight of what had just happened—the loss, the devastation, the threat—settled over them like a shroud of ice.

And somewhere in the cold night sky, the old man was still out there..

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Grey, Keen, Charge, Root, Fleet, and the others who could still move tended to the wounded with trembling hands and blood-slicked fingers. The air was heavy with sharp breaths, muffled cries, and the faint scent of frostbitten blood. Brawl lay propped against the remnants of a sled, his face contorted in pain, his scorched skin peeling in places where the beast's lightning had seared him. Shot was sprawled on her side, her thigh crudely wrapped in layers of cloth to stem the steady flow of crimson soaking into the snow beneath her.

Although Keen clutched the medicine gifted by the old man, his fingers curled around it tightly, his expression hard and unreadable. For a long moment, he stared at the small vial glowing faintly in his palm before slipping it back into his pouch with a growl. Whatever it contained, it wasn't worth the risk.

Wild knelt beside Spider's lifeless body, her forehead pressed against his still chest, her sobs muffled but shaking her whole frame. Nearby, Daunt stood frozen, staring at the body of the man who had saved his life, his face painted with a raw mixture of guilt and horror.

Keen rose and moved toward the sleds, his steps deliberate, his broad shoulders still squared despite the weight of exhaustion pressing down on them. He hoisted the antlers of the beast onto one of the sleds, the crystalline surface gleaming faintly in the pale light of dawn. His sharp eyes scanned the corpses scattered across the snow—friend and foe alike—before he gestured toward the green-robed apprentices.

"Take everything," he ordered, his voice low but unyielding. "Weapons, clothing, whatever they carried. Elder needs to see this."

Grey, Serene, and the others obeyed. The dead students' robes and belongings were stripped away and stuffed into worn leather bags. The sound of fabric tearing and straps being tightened filled the silence as they worked, the bitter weight of their actions pressing against their chests.

When the sleds were packed, Keen began assigning duties. His voice, though gravelly and tight with exhaustion, carried clearly over the group.

"Grey, Serene, Root—take this sled." He pointed to the second. "Fleet, Charge—take that one. Anyone who can't walk, get on now. No arguing. We move."

No one resisted. The wounded were hoisted onto the sleds, their groans of pain cutting through the still air. Grey and Serene each grabbed hold of the sled's handles, their arms trembling under the weight, but they didn't let go.

Then Keen did something that froze them all in place. With a grunt, he strode to the body of the colossal elk-like lightning beast, grabbed it by the neck, and, with impossible strength, slung it over his shoulder. Its massive form settled behind him, and for a moment, it seemed like the world itself had gone still in awe of the feat. Keen's breath misted in the cold air as he straightened under the impossible weight.

One word escaped his lips, sharp and final:

"Move."

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The hours bled into one another, each step feeling heavier than the last. The quiet crunch of earth under boots and sled runners was the only sound, the haunting silence wrapping around them like a shroud.

When the first sight of the snow-covered barrier came into view, a collective exhale rippled through the group. The pale expanse stretched before them like a vast, frozen sanctuary. The sun hung low on the horizon, its faint light spilling across the snowdrifts, painting them in soft hues of gold and blue.

One by one, the survivors collapsed into the snow. For the first time, the biting cold of their homeland felt like a comfort, a familiar embrace against their weary bodies.

Grey and Serene sank to their knees near one another, their hands digging into the snow, clutching at the powdery softness as if it might somehow erase the horrors they'd witnessed. Serene let out a shuddering breath, her shoulders trembling with each sob that escaped her lips. Grey sat motionless, his silver eyes distant, unblinking, reflecting the pale sky above.

Keen, still carrying the weight of the beast on his back, let it fall with a heavy thud into the snow before letting out a ragged breath. He looked over the group, his piercing eyes lingering on each face.

"We'll rest here," he said, his voice carrying the exhaustion of someone who had been holding up the weight of the world. "But not for long."

For a while, no one spoke. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of the injured and the faint whispers of the wind. The older members—Fleet, Root, and Charge—sat hunched over, their faces etched with grief and exhaustion. Wild sat a short distance from Spider's body, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring blankly at the horizon.

Serene's trembling form caught Grey's attention. She sat curled in on herself, her bow lying abandoned at her side, her face buried in her hands as she repeated the same words over and over.

"Shot, I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

Grey hesitated before reaching out. His fingers rested lightly on Serene's shoulder, the weight of his touch grounding her slightly. Her head lifted, emerald eyes red and swollen from tears.

"It's not your fault," Grey said, his voice barely above a whisper, his silver eyes locked onto hers. "You did everything you could, Serene. You kept going. That's what matters."

Serene's breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, she looked at him like she might believe his words. Then, her gaze dropped again, and her shoulders shook with fresh sobs.

Grey stayed there, his hand still on her shoulder, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He had seen too much death, too much horror, in such a short time. He knew the guilt she carried because he carried it too.

Around them, the survivors clung to whatever fragments of solace they could find—whether it was the snow beneath their hands, the faint warmth of the sun, or the quiet presence of someone nearby.

More time passed as they moved out at Keen's order. Eventually, Grey's gaze lifted toward the distant gates—massive and carved from pale stone. They loomed ahead like silent sentinels, the last barrier between the wilderness and home.

It was the same gate he had passed through weeks ago, dragging the body of the Hooded Horn behind him—a moment that had marked the beginning of everything.

The wind carried a faint voice forward, familiar and steady coming from Keen.

"Open the gate!"

As the gates creaked and groaned open, Grey's chest tightened. Relief mixed with grief, hope tangled with guilt. They had survived—but the weight of what they carried would not fade so easily.

The gates opened wide, welcoming them home.

But none of them would ever be the same again.

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Everyone, the break can began. The characters have been through so much, having to fight even when exhaustion has consumed them. Now home, they can lean back, be comforted, and well... prepare for what's to come. Thank you for reading, please comment, follow, like/vote.