Chapter 8: Ghosts Of Greenhaven

  Kael crouched in the damp undergrowth, eyeing Greenhaven’s charred outline against the gray dawn. Smoke no longer rose from the town, but he could smell it, sharp and acrid on the morning breeze—a thick reminder of everything that had been ripped from him. From his vantage point at the forest's edge, he could see the main gate still standing, but blackened and hanging crooked on its hinges, framed by the scorched walls.

  Before he dared enter the streets, Kael mentally ran through his list. He’d need supplies—more than he could easily carry, but he didn’t have the luxury of choice.

  He’d need a place to store the few belongings he’d salvaged, as well as whatever he could carry back from his house. Then food, enough for at least a few days if he wanted to stay hidden from whatever creatures still roamed the deeper parts of the forest.

  Water was another necessity, two canteens if he could find them, along with normal string to restring his crossbow. , he reminded himself, . With luck, he’d find some in the guardhouse, but Greenhaven’s defenses had failed so utterly that he wasn’t holding his breath.

  And, finally, the most difficult items: . If he could find the codex in the ashes, he might stand a chance of increasing his survival odds. But a heavy doubt settled in his gut at the thought of the library—like every other place, it was probably in ruins. , he thought with a grim smile, . He’d rather not have to loot armor off the dead. Not yet, anyway.

  Kael shifted his weight, listening. The forest felt tense, as though even the trees sensed what had happened to Greenhaven. Most of the monsters had moved on, their scent trails and deep gouges in the soil leading toward other villages or deeper into the hills. Still, he couldn’t afford to be careless; the ruins might still harbor lingering threats.

  He rose, creeping closer to the town’s outskirts. The bodies of guards lay scattered along the front gate, twisted and broken. Kael's stomach twisted at the sight of bodies scattered across the road, armor half-melted and limbs splayed in unnatural angles. The guards who’d once watched over the gates lay strewn like broken toys, their faces frozen in expressions of horror. He forced himself to look away, feeling bile rise in his throat.

  Some of these men had known him as a child, had laughed at his clumsy sword forms or watched over him with a wary eye when he’d skulked near the training fields. He stopped over one of the corpses, recognizing the insignia. It was Alder, one of the night guards, a man with a quiet smile. Kael felt a familiar pang of guilt claw at his insides.

  At his feet lay a rusted sword, half-buried under Alder’s stiff hand. Kael bent down, grasping the hilt and pulling it free from the dirt. It was heavier than his own blade had been, its balance unfamiliar, but it would do. He gave it an experimental swing, but the stiffness of his makeshift breastplate made movement awkward. He cursed under his breath, realizing it would be a hindrance in a fight—a lesson he knew he’d pay for sooner or later.

  He moved carefully past the gate, weaving between the broken remains of the guardhouse and a small, abandoned cart. The houses, lay broken open, doors smashed or torn clean off their hinges. Some of their walls bore claw marks, thick gouges that tore through wood and plaster-like paper. Bodies lay within the rubble—residents. He forced himself not to look too closely. Recognizing anyone would only slow him down.

  The people of Greenhaven had long gotten used to fending off monster attacks, and it showed in the way they had died. Most of the bodies Kael encountered clutched swords, crossbows, or clubs or some other weapon. They had fought to protect their loved ones and their town, but it had come at a terrible cost. Every body Kael found was marred by some gruesome injury, a limb torn away or a gaping wound. All he could hope was that they had managed to take one of their monstrous attackers with them.

  As Kael ventured deeper into the town, his eyes flicked between the darkened alleys and ruined doorways. He’d memorized these paths in a peaceful town, but now every shadow held potential death.

  He paused, pressing himself against a crumbled wall as he caught the faint scuttling of claws on stone. Kael’s breath caught. The sound grew louder. He risked a glance around the corner.

  In the middle of the road, half-shrouded in mist, a creature sniffed at the air. It was a grotesque amalgamation of deer and hound, its skin pale and stretched tight over a frame that jutted with unnatural angles. Its movements were halting, erratic, as though it wasn’t fully in control of its limbs. Kael froze, his heart hammering. The thing tilted its head, empty white eyes scanning blindly.

  He slowly put his sword back into its scabbard and unslung his crossbow, his hands trembling as he loaded a bolt. He couldn’t risk noise—not yet. If he missed, it would know exactly where he was. His grip tightened as he tracked its movements, his mind racing through possibilities.

  The creature let out a low howl that raked across his nerves. Another howl echoed in reply, distant but closing in. Kael’s mouth went dry. He slung the crossbow back over his shoulder, retreating slowly, keeping his steps light. His foot snagged on a loose stone, the noise sharp and unmistakable. The creature froze.

  Its head snapped in his direction, nostrils flaring. Kael didn’t wait. He darted into the nearest house, diving behind a splintered cabinet as the creature’s heavy steps followed. Its snorts filled the air, wet and guttural, as it pushed its body through the doorway, scraping against the frame. Kael held his breath, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles ached. He could hear the creature’s claws clicking against the floorboards, the faint rasp of its breath.

  The thought screamed in his head.

  The creature lingered, sniffing, before a distant howl drew its attention. It hesitated, then turned, its heavy footsteps fading into the street. Kael stayed where he was, his heart pounding in his chest. Only when the silence stretched did he risk moving.

  The thought settled like a stone in his gut. He wasn’t alone in Greenhaven—not by a long shot.

  He made his way to the first house on his mental list—a small, modest home he vaguely remembered belonged to an old weaver. The door had been torn off, lying splintered against the wall. He stepped over it cautiously, his gaze sweeping the interior. Inside, the destruction was even worse: chairs overturned, a table smashed to pieces, and cloth strewn everywhere. He moved quickly, grabbing a roll of string from the corner and a small, empty pouch from a broken shelf.

  The basics. He moved from room to room, collecting what he could carry, avoiding the sight of the body crumpled near the doorway. Once he was sure he’d gathered enough, he slipped back into the street, hugging the walls as he made his way toward the center of town.

  Kael continued through the town, entering house after house with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies from any place still intact. In one house, he found a spool of coarse string that might work for his crossbow if he could reinforce it, along with a few other odds and ends—a length of rope, a small chisel, a hammer. Each time he crouched to retrieve something, his makeshift armor dug into his ribs. He knew he’d need to modify it somehow. In the heat of battle, it could mean the difference between life and death.

  The growls returned later as Kael approached the center of town. This time, they came from two beasts, prowling just beyond a fallen cart. Kael crept along a side street, his mind racing. The urge to run gnawed at him, but he knew better. Speed meant noise, and noise meant death. He forced himself to move slowly, each step calculated.

  He slowly but steadily worked his way towards his old house. There, he hoped to retrieve his tools, and from there, to the library, where the codex might still lie hidden among the ruins. As he approached, his eyes scanned the street, his heart heavy as he recognized more bodies.

  A sudden movement caught his eye. Just down the street, a beast stalked through the rubble, its massive back towering over the crumbling buildings it stood next to. It had the lean body of a panther, but its back bristled with quills, and its head was elongated like a serpent’s, with fangs that gleamed even in the dim light. Kael backed away slowly, his steps silent as he pressed himself against the nearest wall. He couldn’t risk an encounter, not with the gear he had now.

  But as he rounded the corner, his foot snagged on a loose stone, sending it clattering down the alleyway. The beast’s head whipped around, its yellow eyes narrowing in his direction.

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  It charged.

  Kael’s body moved on instinct. He ran, legs burning as he ducked into another alleyway. The panther-thing skidded on the stone, its claws sparking as it pivoted to follow. Kael cursed as he rounded a corner, fumbling to reload the crossbow. The beast’s growl was right behind him, a vibrating rumble that thrummed in his chest.

  Ahead, the alley narrowed. He dove into a crumbling building, the beast crashing into the wall behind him with a bone-shaking impact. Claws raked through the doorway, a quill slicing across his arm. Pain lanced through him, hot and immediate, but he kept moving, scrambling further into the ruins. He spotted a cluster of fallen pillars, their massive stone columns cracked and broken, and made a beeline for them. Kael squeezed beneath the rubble, his heart racing as he wedged himself into the narrow space.

  The beast snarled, its long limbs scraping at the edges of the doorway. It padded closer, its eyes fixed on the pillars that barred its way. Kael held his breath, his body trembling with fear. The creature's claws swiped at the stone, but it was too large to fit through the gap. Undeterred, the beast began to circle the pillars, searching for a weak point.

  Kael watched in horror as the creature's eyes locked onto the pillar that pinned him in place. It crouched low, its muscles tensing, and then it sprang forward. The pillar shuddered beneath the impact, the stone creaking ominously. Kael's heart skipped a beat as the creature struck again, its claws raking across the surface. The pillar groaned, and for a moment, Kael thought it would break. But it held against the beast’s relentless attack.

  When the beast finally stopped, the silence created was oppressive. Kael held his breath, waiting for the attacks to start again. But instead of attacking, the beast let out a frustrated growl and slunk away, its heavy footsteps fading into the distance.

  Kael let out a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling. Blood seeped through his fingers, but he forced himself to focus, tearing a strip from his cloak to bind the wound. His chest heaved with each breath, the reality of his fragility slamming into him.

  But he didn’t have a choice. He was so close now. His father’s tools. The library. The Codex. Everything he needed was here, and he’d come too far to leave empty-handed.

  “I can’t stop,” he whispered to himself, the words barely audible. “Not now.”

  The weight of his determination propelled him forward, his feet kicking up dust and ash.

  As he turned the corner, his house came into view, still standing but barely. The walls charred and windows shattered. Inside, the once-familiar rooms were a mess, furniture overturned, shards of glass littering the floor. His heart sank as he called out, “Father?” but there was only silence.

  He moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his father. His heart racing, he pushed open the door to his father’s old workroom, and his worst fears were confirmed. His father’s body lay slumped over the workbench, a sword still clutched in his hand. Kael’s eyes welled up with tears as he took in the sight of his father's lifeless body. He felt a wave of grief wash over him, but he forced himself to take a step closer.

  As he approached his father's body, he saw that he had died fighting, a look of determination etched on his face. Kael's thoughts drifted to the past, remembering how his father had struggled with his crippled leg, a constant reminder of the monster attack that had crushed the bones in his right leg early in his life. His mother, a skilled duelist, had tried to teach his father the forms that could have saved his life, but no matter how hard she tried, his father's disability had made it impossible for him to master them.

  For a moment, Kael allowed himself to wonder if things could have been different. Maybe if his father’s leg had still functioned, he could have survived the attack. But the thought was fleeting, and Kael quickly dismissed it. The reality was that their home had been overrun by beasts, and no one could have survived for long. The place would have been crawling with monsters, and even the most skilled fighter would have eventually fallen.

  As Kael gazed at his father’s lifeless body, a pang of regret washed over him. He had often hated his father, resented the harsh training and brutal lessons he had forced upon him. His father's methods had been extreme, pushing Kael to his limits, testing his endurance and willpower.

  Kael’s eyes filled with tears as he thought about all the times he had rebelled against his father, all the times he had hated him for pushing him so hard. But now, he saw that it had all been worth it. His father’s training had given him the skills he needed to survive, to fight back against the monsters that had taken everything from him. Left him alone in this world.

  Kael knelt beside his father, gently prying the sword from his hand, and then began to sort through the tool chest, finding what he needed: a finer chisel, a larger blade for etching runes, and a few other items. Tears streamed down his face as he worked, but he knew he had to keep moving, for his father's sake as much as his own. He would honor his father's memory by surviving, by using the skills he had taught him to make a difference in a world that desperately needed it.

  As he turned to leave, he spotted something familiar—a small, battered sketch of Aria’s parents, pinned to the wall among his notes. It was a crude drawing, hastily done, but he’d sketched it one night after they’d let him train with Aria in the garden. He reached up and tugged it free, sliding it into his pocket.

  A rustling sound from the hallway snapped him back to the present, and he gripped the hilt of his sword, heart pounding. In the dim light, he saw a shadow moving toward him, slow and unsteady. He braced himself, ready to fight—until he realized it was a man, limping, his face pale and gaunt. Recognition struck like a hammer. It was Jaron, the baker from down the street.

  “Kael…” Jaron’s voice was hoarse, his eyes glassy as he clutched his side, where blood had soaked through his shirt. “They took… my wife… my son…”

  Kael swallowed hard, unable to look away from the man’s haunted gaze. “Jaron,” he whispered, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. There was nothing he could do for him, no way to ease the pain that gnawed at him. Kael nodded once, a silent promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. But as Jaron collapsed against the wall, the life draining from his eyes, Kael forced himself to move. He left the man behind, like so many others in this broken town, and stepped back out into the desolation.

  The final stop was the library. The air here felt heavy, still thick with the memory of smoke and flame. The door was splintered, and inside, the familiar scent of leather-bound books and old wood was overpowered by the acrid bite of burnt paper. Shelves lay toppled, and the few remaining books were scattered on the floor, many too charred to be of any use.

  He moved through the debris carefully, his eyes scanning the shelves. And then, by some miracle, he found it—the codex, wedged between two fallen beams, its leather cover scorched but intact. He reached out and pulled it free, his fingers brushing the cracked spine. This book contained every basic rune he’d studied, every hint of magic that might help him survive this world.

  As he turned to leave, a faint shuffling sound made him freeze. He turned slowly, spotting a creature lurking at the far end of the library. It was tall, gaunt, with too-long arms and a face split by a jagged mouth that dripped black ichor. Kael gripped his sword, backing away, his mind racing. , he told himself. Aria’s parents had drilled it into him relentlessly—blocking a stronger foe would shatter every bone in his arm.

  The creature lunged, and Kael sidestepped, swinging the sword in a wide arc. The blade glanced off the creature’s arm, but it was enough to send it stumbling. It turned, snarling, and lunged again, one clawed hand reaching for him. Kael ducked, feeling the claws graze his breastplate but holding firm.

  Kael’s breath quickened as he squared his stance, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade. The creature’s jagged mouth twisted into a grotesque grin, black ichor dribbling down its chin as it slunk closer.

  The codex weighed heavily under his arm, but he couldn’t let it go. , he thought. He adjusted his grip, keeping his eyes locked on the creature’s glistening black orbs, empty and void of anything human.

  The creature lunged again, faster this time. Kael barely managed to twist out of the way, the air slicing past his face as razor-sharp claws missed him by inches. He retaliated with a downward slash, his blade singing through the air. It connected with the creature’s side, carving through its sinewy flesh. A spray of ichor hissed as it struck the floor, burning like acid, and the creature let out a guttural screech that rattled the bookshelves still standing.

  Kael stumbled back, gritting his teeth as the creature lashed out with one of its elongated arms. The blow caught him across the shoulder, spinning him around and sending him sprawling into a pile of debris. Books and shattered beams collapsed around him, and for a moment, his vision blurred. He shook his head, his hand brushing against the codex to reassure himself it was still there.

  The creature didn’t wait. It leapt toward him, its mouth splitting wider to reveal rows of jagged teeth glistening with blackened slime. Kael barely raised his sword in time, the blade pressing against the creature’s jaws as it snapped and snarled mere inches from his face. Its breath was foul, a noxious stench that made his stomach churn.

  With a grunt, he shoved the creature back, its claws leaving deep gouges in his makeshift breastplate. The leather straps holding it together gave way entirely, and the armor fell to the floor with a dull thud. Kael barely had time to breathe before the creature was on him again, its clawed hand swiping at his legs.

  This time, Kael was ready. He jumped, the tips of the claws slicing through his trousers but missing flesh. Landing lightly, he whirled, using the momentum to swing his sword in a wide arc. The blade bit deep into the creature’s upper arm, severing it at the elbow. The appendage fell to the ground with a sickening squelch, twitching as ichor pooled around it.

  The creature howled in fury, staggering back. Its body writhed unnaturally, and the ichor pouring from its wounds began to bubble and hiss, as if the beast were burning from within. Kael didn’t let up. He charged, his sword raised high, but the creature lashed out with its remaining arm, catching him across the chest. The force sent him crashing into the wall, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  Dazed, Kael struggled to his feet, his sword still in hand. The creature was slower now, its movements jerky and uncoordinated, but its glowing eyes burned with a primal fury. It lunged again, its jagged teeth snapping at his neck. Kael ducked, his sword flashing upward in a desperate strike. The blade found its mark, sinking deep into the creature’s throat.

  The creature froze, its claws twitching inches from his face. Kael pushed harder, driving the blade through sinew and bone until it emerged from the other side. The ichor that poured from the wound burned like acid as it splattered his hands, but Kael didn’t relent. With a final cry, he twisted the blade, and the creature let out a gurgling screech before collapsing in a heap at his feet.

  Breathless, Kael took a step back, clutching his bloodied sword. The codex was still safe, tucked under his arm. He exhaled slowly, looking around at the destroyed library, and whispered a silent vow to keep moving, to survive. This town, his home, was gone. But he wasn’t. Not yet.