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Suddenly, one of the creatures lunged at me from the side, catching me off guard.
Before it could reach me, Lorik threw himself in its path, the two grappling and rolling on the forest floor.
The scent of earth and decay rose around them.
I swung at the creature, allowing Lorik to break free.
But our momentary lapse had consequences.
The creatures had gained ground, pushing us into a tighter circle.
Aznai’s voice pierced through the chaos. “We can’t keep this up! There’s too many!”
Lorik pulled me into a protective embrace, shooting over my shoulder.
I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the heat of his breath as he whispered:
“Stay close to me.”
But despite our best efforts, the relentless onslaught continued.
The creatures, with their distorted shadows and hungry red eyes, pressed in from all sides.
The sensation of being trapped, of imminent danger, was suffocating.
Though we kept fighting, taking down dozens of these other-dimensional foes, the odds were against us.
The realization settled in:
Sooner or later, we’d be overrun.
A sense of despair threatened to overpower me, but the touch of Lorik’s hand, and the steadfast determination in his eyes, kept me grounded.
We may not escape this, but we wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The monsters loomedin the fog, their red eyes ever watchful.
As Lorik and I sprinted through the mist, the cold air stung my lungs, my breaths coming out in frantic gasps.
My feet stumbled on the uneven terrain, every root and rock seeming to conspire to trip me up.
The musty smell of the forest mingled with the acrid odor of the fog, making me feel dizzy.
The touch of Lorik’s hand, guiding and pulling me forward, was the only thing anchoring me to reality.
Suddenly, out of the dense fog emerged the distinct figures of Silverback and the Fli’at.
Both had looks of sheer terror etched on their faces, their composure lost to the chaos around them.
Before any of us could react, one of the monsters lunged at the Fli’at.
His natural agility allowed him to dart to one side, narrowly avoiding its grasp.
But another was already there, waiting.
He gripped a tree, his thin fingers digging into the bark, trying to pull himself up.
But the creature’s pull was too strong, and despite his struggles, the Fli’at was dragged screaming into the depths of the fog.
