Page 17 of Isle of Beasts and Shadows

“We’re even.” Duran’s tone was firm, a hint of defiance lingering in the air. “I don’t owe you anything. I saved you in that building while you were tangling with that Miscreant.” His words cut through the tension, each syllable carrying a weight of its own. As he spoke, it was as if Duran could almost read her unspoken thoughts. His gaze pierced through any facade she attempted to maintain.

Sirius. His name was Sirius. She lowered her gaze, lost in deep thought as she contemplated the recent events.

With a heavy heart, she turned and stormed out of the tent where Duran was recovering, her mind clouded with worry and uncertainty.

As she trudged her way back to her tent, the weight of the situation sank in, and she collapsed onto her small cot, exhaustion setting in. Miscreant. Those things were just myths, weren’t they? But what other explanation could there be for today? Despite her fatigue, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The mysterious occurrences in the camp had put her on edge, urging her to remain vigilant.

A shiver crept down her spine before she could delve deeper into her thoughts.

High-pitched, maniacal chirps of laughter that echoed through the camp abruptly shattered the eerie silence, stirring a sense of dread in her. The sound seemed to pierce through her thoughts, overwhelming her senses as she struggled to maintain composure. She instinctively sat up on her knees, hands pressed firmly against her ears, mirroring the reactions of the other soldiers in their respective tents.

In those harrowing moments, a wave of dizziness washed over her, the laughter blending with the chaos in her mind. As the world spun around her, she teetered on the edge of consciousness before succumbing to the darkness that enveloped her, the haunting laughter fading into silence as she blacked out completely.

Chapter 11

“Sirius! You should be more observant of your surroundings,” stated a shadowy figure on the outskirts of the soldier’s base camp.

It had been hours since the fight, and the shadowy figure was actually his father. Well, that was what Sirius knew him as. The strange humanoid shadow took him in as a child and has cared for him ever since.

“You shouldn’t be doing this to the humans, Father. They need their peace,” Sirius said firmly, crossing his arms amongst the shadows.

He listened intently to the pained screams resulting from Father’s high-pitched squeal, feeling a pang of guilt for the chaos unfolding. The setting sun cast an eerie glow on the scene, enhancing the ghostly atmosphere as his father’s victims fell under his haunting wail, their desperation echoing through the night.

“Need their peace? The last thing I remember, you were struggling to fight a little girl!”

Once those words escaped his shadowy lips, Sirius felt a sudden twitch in his eye. It was true. He had indeed found it challenging to combat her. It seemed like a strange weaknesshad crept over him in her presence, as if something mysterious had taken hold of his entire being. A peculiar crinkle formed in his stomach as Father passed through him, dissipating into a cloud of black mist before coalescing once more.

“This could have waited until nightfall, when they fell asleep. I need to delve deeper into the motivations of these humans and understand why they have ventured here. It’s crucial not to startle them prematurely. They were not meant to catch a glimpse of me today,” Sirius expressed with a hint of concern in his voice.

“But they did.” Was Father’s only reply.

Sirius took a deep breath as dim light surrounded his body, allowing him to take the form of the soldier that he had absorbed earlier. The soldier’s comrades knew he was dead. However, the second-in-command didn’t watch the end of the battle unfold. Perhaps if he could maintain this form, he could get the answers he sought with ease. Although the maniacal cries of Father’s lullaby had temporarily knocked the soldiers out, Sirius decided that disguising himself would provide an extra layer of security in case anyone were to break their sleeping spell.

As Sirius stealthily made his approach to the campsite, an eerie silence shrouded the scene. The people who were previously bustling around, caring and tending to the second-in-command, had now succumbed to exhaustion, their weary bodies collapsing where they stood.

Sirius, with a sense of urgency, swiftly closed the distance to Jonathan’s hammock. Taking on the guise of the soldier, he leaned over the sleeping man, his hand gently resting on Jonathan’s cheek. As Jonathan’s eyelids fluttered open, they met Sirius’s unwavering pair of golden eyes. Despite thetransformation in appearance, Sirius’s eyes remained a telltale sign of his true identity.

“You’re not Marcus…” Jonathan’s voice quivered, a blend of apprehension and empathy coloring his words. In that fleeting moment of lucidity, amidst the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, Jonathan detected a subtle flicker of guilt in Sirius’s piercing gaze, confirming his growing suspicions. “Soul-eater. You killed Marcus. Why have you taken his form?” Jonathan reached for his knife and gripped it firmly.

“I need answers,” Sirius loomed over him, his towering figure casting a dark shadow over the scene. He must have been notified that his fellow soldier had fallen by Sirius’s hand. The Miscreant crossed his arms and gave an emotionless stare once he settled next to Jonathan’s hammock, the tension becoming palpable in the still air of the night. “What is your kind doing here?” Sirius asked in a commanding tone, his voice laced with a hint of danger that sent shivers down Jonathan’s spine. “If you refuse to answer, I will slice off each of your fingers until you talk,” he threatened, the weight of his words emphasized by an intimidating growl that reverberated through the silence, his soldierly demeanor adding to the already menacing aura that surrounded him.

Jonathan gulped hesitantly, his heart pounding in his chest so loudly he was sure Sirius could hear it. He slowly reached over the side of the hammock for his skinned canteen, his hands slightly trembling in the face of the imminent threat that lingered in the air.

“We are here by the order of King William of Eldaraya,” Jonathan declared, his brows narrowed. “Our mission is to scout this island and evaluate its potential for habitation by our people. The expansion of our kingdom relies heavily on us. Ourcitizens need somewhere to live should our kingdom fall to our rival, Aurian, if they attack,” pausing for a moment, he raised his canteen to his lips, taking a refreshing sip of water to quench his thirst. He never broke eye contact.

Sirius found himself lost in contemplation, reflecting on his earlier encounter with the lone female soldier in their group. Airella. The memory of her remarkable strength during their recent battle lingered in his mind, prompting him to ponder the significance of her presence among them.

Her eyes stood out vividly in his mind—one icy blue, the other a captivating green. The mere recollection of those striking eyes stirred a mix of fascination and intrigue within Sirius, almost luring him into a state of mesmerization.

“Why is that woman here?” the question slipped effortlessly from his lips, hanging in the air with a sense of mystery and curiosity.

Jonathan gave him a worried look, concerned he may hurt her next. He turned his head to the tent she slept in. “You mean Airella?”

Sirius leaned back against a log. He was determined to hear what the red-haired soldier had to say.

“She’s just some girl,” Jonathan clenched his fists, squeezing tighter to the knife in his palm.

Sirius just stared, not buying his answer. Sirius waited for Jonathan to continue, his golden eyes peering into his soul. Jonathan clenched his teeth in nervousness.

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