Page 18 of Emerald

As I tunnel, the spikes on my back serve a dual purpose, cutting through the soil and providing a defensive barrier. Any debris that falls is quickly pushed aside, the rhythmic motion soothing. The walls around me are cool and dark, a soothing contrast to the chaos I left behind.

The bioluminescent glow of my skin provides just enough light to navigate, the soft blue hues casting an eerie glow in the confined space. My breath comes in steady, controlled bursts, the rhythm of my tunneling matching the cadence of my heart. The scent of dirt is a comforting companion.

Every muscle in my body aches, but I push on, driven by the instinct to survive. The terror of the unknown creature becomes a distant but all too vivid memory in the back of my mind, replaced by the focused determination to escape. My mind races, each movement calculated and precise, a knife-edge balance only those who had tempered the urge to survive and the instinct that guides it.

Finally, as the adrenaline begins to fade, I find myself in a small cavern, the walls smooth and cool to the touch. I collapse, my body trembling with exhaustion. My skin shifts to a pale orange, the relief washing over me as palpable as anything.

That was close. Too close.

Nonetheless, I'd escaped.

***

I awaken with a sharp intake of breath, pain ripping through my side as if that cursed trakeldon struck me all over again. The memory surges forward with a clarity that makes me almost keen, my bioluminescent skin pulsing violently in whirls of blue, violet, and red. The cold, damp air of the cave does nothing to soothe the agony, and for a moment, I remain sprawled against the stone floor, gasping for air, disoriented.

Where am I? My head whips around frantically, my eyes scanning the cave, but there's little comfort to be found in its jagged walls. My vision blurs slightly as my skin shifts to a soft gradient of blue that ripples across me in erratic waves before I shake my head. I need to focus. But the panic flares hotter, and I can't seem to link the story that brought me here.

The pain, the darkness, the relentless chase—I was fleeing from something, wasn't I? My thoughts are fragmented, scattered, like shards of broken glass. My body tenses, skin shifting to a deeper shade of violet as my brows knit together in a grueling effort to get a hold of my feral-fueled anger.

It's not often I lose my control like this, and the thought of allowing fear to cloud my mind, like a headless zhannel, irritates me in more ways than I'd like.

Control yourself.

I remain like this for several agonizing moments, my breath ragged as I struggle to regain some semblance of composure. Slowly, ever so slowly, I steady myself, forcing my breath to even out. The blue glow on my skin dims, replaced by the faintest hue of red as I feel a venomous steam hiss from my snout into the stale air of the cave.

The relief that washes over me is short-lived, but it's enough to bring my mind back to the present. I blink slowly, assessing the situation with more clarity now. I can't stay here. Not with the distant rumbling of the ground beneath me, growing louder and more violent with each passing second. The ground trembles as if it, too, is aware of the dangers lurking nearby. My reprieve is over.

I push myself to my limbs, wincing as the ache in my side flares up again. I ignore it. Pain is familiar, comforting, even. I can deal with pain. What I can't deal with is being caught off-guard again.

I stagger out of the small cavern, squinting as I step into the harsh light that greets me at the cave's mouth. The brightness burns my eyes, forcing me to hiss in discomfort. A thin membrane slides over my pupils, dimming the glare to a tolerable level. My vision sharpens, and I assess my surroundings with renewed focus. The terrain stretches out before me in a jagged mess of rocks and sparse vegetation. It's alien—nothing like the lush, dense forests I'm used to.

But there's no time to dwell on the unfamiliar landscape. I need to move. Fast. I drop to all six limbs, my body moving with a natural fluidity that only comes when I'm in full motion. My muscles coil and release in perfect synchronization, propelling me forward with bursts of speed that leave the cave far behind. I push through the discomfort, the lingering pain in my side no more than an afterthought now.

I'm getting a good distance away when a sound stops me in my tracks. Voices. Not far off. My first instinct is to bolt in the opposite direction, but something stops me. A scent. Sweet, enticing, cutting through the acrid taste of my fear like a blade. It wafts into my nose, and before I know it, I'm frozen in place, inhaling deeply. The smell pulls at me, urging me to find its source.

What am I doing?My brain tries to pull me back to reality, but the scent… it's overwhelming. I find myself sniffing around, eager to locate the source. I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of this strange trance.Focus, Kroaicho.What am I doing sniffing around like some animal? I've lost my composure. I snarl quietly, berating myself for the lapse in discipline.

But then, the smell comes again, stronger this time, making my body respond in ways I hadn't anticipated.

What in the demiurge's name?

Frustration and embarrassment flood through me, my skin shifting to a dark, virulent purple. This is unacceptable. My control is better than this. I am better than this. The fact that there exists something capable of breaking through my discipline so easily makes my skin flash purple. I clench my fists, digging my claws into the soil to ground myself, trying to regain some semblance of control over my body.

Before I can settle my thoughts, a shout erupts nearby, startling me. I freeze, instinctively ducking lower into the brush. The scent has grown stronger, almost unbearably so, and it's clear now that whoever—or whatever—is producing it is close. Very close.

My mind races as I try to focus on the more pressing matter at hand: I'm being hunted. And, judging by the increasing intensity of the scent, the braceaaer are closing in on me.Of course, I think bitterly.

It's not enough that my hoard was destroyed, now I have to deal with…I cut off the thought, pushing aside the rising anger. Now is not the time to mourn what I've lost.

Another shout rings out, closer this time. My body tenses, ready to move at a moment's notice. I don't like the idea of approaching the source of that scent—it's dangerous, intoxicating, and far too distracting. But at the same time, I can't ignore it. It's calling to me in a way that makes my muscles itch with the need to move toward it, no matter how much my mind protests.

I consider burrowing underground, a tactic that has saved me on countless occasions. But as much as I long for the safety of the depths, tunneling isn't always the most subtle of actions. If I want to remain unnoticed, I'll need to rely on something less… conspicuous.

I shift my weight, testing the stability of the bushes and trees around me. They'll provide decent cover, at least for now. I begin to move cautiously, creeping forward through the underbrush, my body low to the ground. The scent is stronger now, pulling me along despite my better judgment. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of trepidation and… excitement?

I freeze again, mentally cursing myself for the traitorous surge of emotion. Excited? Now, of all times? I grit my teeth, fighting back the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here I am, on the run from demiurge-know-what, possibly being hunted, and my body has the audacity to feel… thrilled?

I push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. I need to find out who or what is creating that scent and why it's affecting me like this. And I need to do it without getting caught.

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