Page 21 of Isle of Beasts and Shadows

Noticing her shiver from the chill that permeated the cavern’s air, he swiftly retrieved a tattered brown blanket he had acquired from a distant village in times long past. With a delicatetouch, he wrapped the worn fabric around her frame, aiming to provide a shield against the biting cold that lingered in the shadows of the underground chamber.

As time trickled by, each passing second stretching into minutes and hours, he remained unwaveringly vigilant by her side. Her restless slumber was punctuated by shivers, her head tossing from side to side in a rhythmic yet troubled dance, as the days slipped past like ghosts in a silent vigil.

An undercurrent of nervousness gripped him, his heartbeat echoing in the quiet cave, a stark contrast to the stillness that enveloped them. His eyes never strayed from her form, the flicker of concern evident in the furrow of his brow. It was in this suspended moment of anticipation that her eyes fluttered open, her consciousness emerging from the depths of sleep.

A soft moan escaped from her lips, followed by a gasp that filled the cavern’s air, as she found herself in the dimly lit, damp cave. Momentarily disoriented, she gazed around, half-expecting the surroundings to dissolve like a mirage. Across the cavern, the ice hellion observed her with an inscrutable gaze, its presence looming in the shadows.

“Ciíñßæl,” his voice reverberated against the rugged walls of the cave, a strange whisper that seemed to carry a weight of its own. His eyes shifted between her and the metal rod that he had carefully separated from her as she slept, a silent reminder of the mysterious circumstances that bound them together in this enigmatic place.

The blonde-haired girl couldn’t remember anything that had happened. How did she end up in here, and how long had she been unconscious? Thoughts clouded her mind as her eyes scanned the interior of the cave, the dim light casting eerieshadows on the walls. The last thing she remembered was the sound of cracking ice, a chilling memory that sent shivers down her spine.

She watched the hellion, his eyes filled with a strange mix of determination and uncertainty, toss away his daggers with a cautious gesture. He wanted to prove to her that he meant no harm, his movements slow and deliberate. She flinched instinctively, pulling the rough blanket closer to her nose as if seeking solace in its familiar touch.

The tension in the air seemed to thicken as he continued to unsheathe his daggers, the metallic sound echoing in the confined space of the cave before they clattered to the ground. After he finished, he raised his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender.

As she tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes, a striking shade of blue, showed a hint of trust in them, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

“You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of fear and curiosity.

He nodded in response, his expression softening slightly. “Meñtëzl mœñdæžëri! Žîz î Zol...” his words trailed off, a sense of urgency in his tone as he glanced towards the entrance of the cave, as if expecting something or someone to appear.

Her gaze followed his, landing on her metal rod which lay a distance away from her, a silent witness to the unfolding scene, waiting to be reclaimed.

She removed the warm, woolen blanket from her shivering body and rose unsteadily, relying on the damp cave wall for support as she sought to steady herself. She felt a waveof weakness wash over her, and a gnawing curiosity crept in, making her wonder how long she had been confined within this murky cavern.

“You can’t speak my language, can you?” she inquired wearily, her fingertips tracing the uneven surface of the wall for balance. The horned, obsidian-covered figure before her slowly lowered his hands.

“Rætü,” he grunted cryptically.

She furrowed her brow, interpreting his response as a negative. Continuing to explore the wall, her hand brushed against strange markings etched into the rough surface. With a sense of intrigue, she withdrew her hand, revealing a series of unfamiliar engravings, each telling a story unknown to her.

She couldn’t help but ponder if the mysterious symbols before her were indeed his language. Her curiosity piqued. As her gaze shifted towards the cavern’s deeper, darker recesses, a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, wondering about the secrets concealed within.

With a determined sigh, she tore her attention away from the ominous depths, back to the looming figure of the hellion, now mere steps away. Emboldened, she took a tentative step forward, away from the security of the cave wall. Yet, her legs, weakened by both fear and fatigue, betrayed her, causing her to stumble. Before she could plummet to the ground, the hellion’s swift reflexes intercepted her fall, his touch unfamiliar and strangely coarse against her skin. With a final reassuring glance, the hellion let go of her arm, revealing eyes that glowed with an otherworldly intensity beneath his obsidian helmet, captivating her with their piercing blue light.

“Thanks,” she whispered softly, her voice barely audible against the backdrop of the cave.

Her gaze shifted towards the cave’s entrance, revealing a world blanketed in pristine snow. The urgency to return home pulsed within her; she knew loved ones would be concerned. Her father was likely in a state of panic by now. Yet, the task seemed daunting in her current state—each step a struggle against her unsteady footing, making the journey back home a seemingly insurmountable challenge.

The hellion gave a subtle nod, a flicker of recognition gleaming in his eyes. Perhaps there was a glimmer of understanding in his gaze, or maybe he merely nodded out of a sense of familiarity.

She studied him intently, noting the intricate spiraling of his horns that framed his head and the obsidian helmet that veiled his features. In that moment, she realized she had never been in such proximity to a Miscreant without facing imminent danger.

With a mix of curiosity and caution, she gently placed her palm against her chest. “I’m Emmaline,” she introduced herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty, unsure if her words would bridge the gap between them.

As he attempted to repeat her name, she nodded encouragingly, relishing the hint of his accent from his native tongue. In a gesture of reciprocity, he echoed her actions, placing a hand over his chest and uttered, “Zol.”

Chapter 14

1358 A.D.—256 Years Later (Present Day)

Hours had passed by, and everyone was growing exhausted. The group of soldiers continued on, but something strange caught Airella’s attention nearby. She looked toward some large rocks which led into a mountainous area. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, painting the rugged landscape in shades of amber and gold.

She tightened her cloak around her armored body. Her gaze shifted to the large trees swaying with the force of the wind, a rustling sound accompanying their dance.

Refocusing her gaze, Airella’s heart raced as she resumed her sprint towards the group she had fallen behind from. Each step was fueled by a potent mix of fear and unwavering determination.

“Did you see that?” Brenner exclaimed, his eyes darting towards a darkened cave entrance ahead.

---