The arrow hissed through the air with deadly intent. Far in the distance, a puffdeer raised its head, unaware of the death hissing towards it. It did not even manage to react to its approach. Pointy metal pierced its chest. Its heart burst in an explosion of crimson, eyes widened, and the world went dark in a blink. With a heavy thud, its frame collapsed on the green cushion of the grass and berries it just ate. A small rivulet of crimson painted the serene scenery.

  A band of elves swiftly traversed through the fresh green forestation. Navigating the thick bushes and trees. Jumping off the massive trunks and heavy branches. This was their territory; this natural palace belonged to them alone.

  Yet it took them quite some time to reach the opening. The blond-haired elf shot from so far away that none could see anything but a small black dot somewhere between the leaves, hundreds of paces away. But he still hit the mark perfectly.

  “Ayee! Your Grace, what a marvelous shot. You are unnatural. Can’t imagine even Feero the Hawk doing it so cleanly.” The elven ranger in light green leather armor right behind Jeen cried out loud.

  “Svenvalt, remember who you’re talking to. Mind your tongue. Address me by my rank!” His boyish, smooth features seeped with anger as the blond-haired elf furrowed his brow. Making the other elf step slightly back.

  Why did I? I didn't mean to sound so angry—not good. His stare fixed on the sulking ranger as he thought to himself.

  “Hey, don’t you get hung up on that; the mission comes first. It’s just… How many times do I have to remind you to stop with this needless flattery? You know how it's getting on my nerves.” He looked around. We’re still the fastest. Should I extend their training regimen?

  The ranger captain whistled as soon as he heard the light wind rustling from behind.

  “Pick up the carcass and keep moving. We wasted half a day already!” Jeen said in a commanding tone. His deep blue eyes glinted with the rays of sunlight as he gazed into the distance.

  “Aye, aye! Ranger captain!” A young elf replied, while he saluted with a vacant expression, raising his head.

  Three more men caught up to them, dashing out from the bushes without breaking a single branch. The sinewy, tall one picked up the puffdeer with one hand, throwing it over his shoulder, and the entire group rushed forward through the dark shadows of the woodland.

  Despite the vegetation becoming progressively denser, the entire group moved without as much as making a sound of rustling leaves. With occasional whistling or chirping sounds coming out from their mouths. They were part of the backdrop, entirely. Their soles were silent on contact, and their bodies seemed light as a feather. Even with a massive extra weight to carry.

  The scenery shifted instantly in front of them. The tall, monumental trees with expansive crowns changed into the dark, dried-out lumps of the dark, thin coalwood. The spiky thornbushes blocked their path from all directions, creating an almost impenetrable fence. But not for the young trained rangers. It was nothing but a minor inconvenience for those vigorous wood-elves.

  Jeen glanced at the four men behind him. He replayed the time of five years ago when he personally picked all of them among the most promising recruits. Being nothing but a young boy himself at that time. Yet already the bow felt at home in his hand the moment he touched the string, and the short swords sang songs in his grip, splitting the air with blinding speed.

  They were the best of the best, the elite gifted ones. Each possessing prowess well beyond their tender ages. But no matter how hard they trained or how much Jeen tried to nurture their talents himself or with the help of the best royal mentors. They were barely holding up to him.

  Well, they're still here. Hanging there, barely, yet never complaining. And I’m not actually holding back. This shaped up to be a good decision in the end. A single test remains. It’s high time to prove ourselves. How I want to wipe off those stupid grins from the pointy-nosed elders. Jeen hardened the grip on his carved bow.

  Thinking about the possibility of him not being able to do what he loves. To not enjoy the company of his rangers made the young one's blood boil. For over a decade, everyone tried to block all this hard-earned progress. Put him on the royal council, befitting his status. To keep his hands smooth, soft, and white, like a true royal. Yet the young lad could never even manage to express how he despised those traditions.

  Even the mere notion of those memories made him scream inside. The very idea of him becoming just a bleak shadow of what he was destined to achieve was an offense to all of his ancestors and the Great Mother Eashta herself.

  He knew it too well. Since he was five years old, he already recognized the role he had to take and the mission he had to fulfill. And that was far from what everyone saw, anticipated, and prepared for him. I will not betray your trust, never!

  And finally, after so much waiting, the opportunity presented itself. It was the time when the main corps of the Forest Rangers of Dandedaim went out for a subjugation mission. And a lone, roaming monster terrorized the village’s border with its presence. Becoming the perfect target, a test of their competence. There were no objections due to the importance of the matter, so they were given a free pass to proceed.

  While drowned in his thoughts, Jeen missed the next change of scenery. Yet he was unbothered. Since he remembered the entirety of those woods like the back of his palm. One could never doubt that he could easily navigate it even with his eyes closed.

  Their band had already entered the thickest part of the Fellein forest. The place was named Drak’s Ascent. At the edge of it, the Ash Mountain held an entrance to the Bottomless Abyss dungeon under its watchful gaze. One could barely find any game in this cinder-covered part of their lands.

  Being the smallest nation among all the elves living across the continent. They were still proud and self-sufficient. Proud Dandedaimers, who traced their roots to the first divines and great Mother Eshta herself. The first ascended wood elf. She was the one who graced them with the innate ability to resonate with nature.

  Wood ones did not possess strong spiritual magic like other elves and were not graced with massive mana reserves. But they partially made up for it with raw agility and dexterity, keen senses, and the ability to draw powers from natural elements around them. No one considered them to be weak. Yet other elves did look down on them for the lack of powerful mages and mighty adventurers. Some even went as far as to consider them to be the third-rate elves, a disgrace to their entire race.

  While Jeen could not recall any of the nobles or kings openly mentioning that. He could effortlessly read it all written over their smug expressions, demeanor, and the overall way they carried themselves. Spiteful snakes!

  The young ranger was proud that they preferred to deal with all their internal and external issues alone, with their strength. And because of that. Out there in the vast world, they were still, if not respected, then recognized for being the best trackers, hunters, and complete rangers known around.

  Their kingdom did not accept the Pact of a Thousand Moons, the one that saw the Empire formed, uniting three major kingdoms. But they still were part of the Concorade’s Alliance, just like other small or major kingdoms that were not absorbed into the Empire. They were not a small autonomous state within, but a full-on proud independent self-governing kingdom.

  Yet their lands were just a small patch of mostly thick, thousand-year-old forests with enormous old trees mashed between the vast demonkin Kingdom of Gravitas over the west sea and the southern part of the Carleen Empire. With only a single major city, their capital, Carol Helm. A completely above-ground society nested within the mother’s Eshta sacred tree. The place he lived in for his entire life.

  Huh, but the world is so vast. I know what I have to do… The young ranger captain was still consumed by his thoughts. But before he could finish, he came to an abrupt stop.

  His pointy ears twitched a few times while his senses screamed of danger. Jeen could feel it. They had entered the territory that belonged to the beast.

  With his hand, he signaled his men to take positions. Like bolts of lightning, they dashed and jumped around. Taking over the flanks and the rear, weapons at the ready.

  Jeen scanned the surrounding space. Claw marks and massive bites covered the coalwood around. A few trees were broken into splinters. Some ripped out with roots… Hmmm, it must be.

  There was not a single carcass in sight, yet he noticed a wide furrow within the dry, ash-covered land. The beast was definitely dragging its meal here. Drops of dried blood lead further and deeper into the dark treeline, closer to Ash Mountain.

  The young elf kneeled to the ground. Brushing his hand against the massive traces left deep into the ground, listening carefully, trying to catch the lightest sound.

  “Okay, we’re finally here. Be at the ready. Don’t miss a single thing.” Jeen finally broke the silence as he stood up, looking at his men from over his shoulder.

  Conviction and intent radiated from their focused faces. Their deep eyes were heavily occupied, their long ears moving, listening, anticipating.

  “It indeed looks like the sharcatrics, just as reported. Remember that its feathers are as hard as steel. We'll do everything as we planned. Set up the trap right there. Understood?” A glimpse of pride danced on the smooth face of the blond elf as he pointed his finger to the middle of the opening.

  “Yes, captain!” Followed the joint response.

  Rangers moved around the perimeter. Preparing their positions and the ensnaring trap. There was no time to waste. The beast would smell blood from thousands of paces away. So being at the brink of its territory would buy them just enough to get ready.

  The moments passed one after the other, followed by minutes, and after a few hours, just when the sun started its descent behind the ashen mountain, their scene was ready.

  Everything looked the same. Except for the massive deer carcass that lay perfectly gutted in the middle. Its belly was wide open for the iron odor of blood to spread with the tiniest gush of wind. Not a trace of a single ranger in sight. It was as if no one was here.

  Jeen nestled himself within the crown of the biggest coalwood tree he could find. Its scarce, dark leaves were barely able to cover anything. Yet with the innate ability of natural camouflage cultivated to perfection, not even the most trained eye could catch a glimpse of his profile.

  The young elf’s heart would have raced with anticipation if not for him controlling its every beat himself. The raging storm within him was reduced to nothing but a slow, tender breeze.

  Together, rangers controlled the perimeter from three directions. Svenvalt held his curved daggers close to the right. Basvand gripped his darkened steel longsword at the ready at his left shoulder. Floky and Draggar controlled the edges of the flanks on each side with their bowstrings in anxious anticipation.

  And their captain stood at the front. From his vantage point, his Keenreth Eye scanned the distance. Where the shadow slowly moved between the trunks. The beast had already sniffed their bait. While it was drawing closer, puffs of dust rose one after the other in its wake.

  What the…?! Must be hungry, but strangely, the blood was not that old. It must have eaten the previous meal less than a day ago. Jeen once again glanced at his rangers spread around. Their features were focused, without a hint of hesitation.

  The creature was getting closer, and the ranger captain fixed all his senses on the beast once again. He could already distinguish its frame. The sinewy, strong legs propelled it forward in massive strides, jumping over any obstacle. Even from this distance he could see the sharp, shining claws on its four fingers that stuck to the ground, keeping it balanced, increasing the speed.

  Sharcatrics were the landwalking birds the size of three grown men. Massive, deadly, and threatening. Their wide wings covered in almost metal-like feathers made them too heavy to fly. Yet those feathers were as strong as tempered steel. The creatures had a long beak, able to crush a D-rank adventurer in two with a single snap. And their long, flexible neck allowed them to catch their prey from quite a distance.

  That’s why Jeen knew too well that an open confrontation with such a creature was just too disadvantageous. So the bait and overwhelm tactic was their best bet for the scales to tip in their favor. He could already envision how, with the success of this mission and bringing the head of the beast as a trophy, no one, not even elders, could ever question his choices. Ever again.

  This must be done. Jeen allowed his thoughts to sidetrack his focus. The towering bird was already too close. With a disgusting shriek, it threw itself towards the carcass of the puffdeer.

  Its beak clutched the creature without a moment of hesitation in a vise-like lock. Yet the moment it jerked its head to snatch the meal, two long wires shot from the ground on the side. Crossing each other over the bird, those descended like dark arms. The trap shut close.

  The creature thrashed and struggled while the thin metal pressed over its shining that seemed almost like polished steel feathers. This sharcatrics was locked in place, a perfect prey for the band of hungry-for-action rangers.

  With a single fluid motion, Jeen grabbed three arrows from his quiver. The riser crackled in his hands as he pulled the string; a release followed. Three metal fangs flew through the air hissing. Each aimed right at the head.

  But the predatory bird was not about to become easy prey, as it twisted its neck and avoided two of the arrows, catching the third and snapping it with its beak. The crackling spread across the small ash-covered opening in the woods.

  While Jeen was preparing his next shot, six more arrows flew from the flanks. The two smallest of the rangers were already hard at work. One after the other, the metal tips drummed against the creature’s thick skin and wings. None was able to leave as much as a single scratch on its defenses.

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  The massive beast used its vast wings like perfect shields, and even with the metal wires obstructing its movements, it managed small sidesteps and dodges. This amount of firepower was not about to faze it.

  “Draggar, Floky, continue the barrage. Don’t let it breathe, don’t let it think! Svenvart, Bansvand, engage, now!” Jeen commanded as he dashed forward a few long paces down from the tree. Rolling over the ground so perfectly that only a few flakes of ash raised from the surface during his contact.

  The ranger with the longsword was already at striking distance, slashing his sword at its legs. While Jeen released three more arrows in quick succession, aimed at the creature’s eyes. None of those hit the mark. The beast’s reaction was too fast as it easily avoided each roaring projectile.

  Svenvald approached it from behind; pivoting high into the air, he tried to cut at the neck. Yet it seemed like the beast had eyes in the back of its head. It turned its neck entirely backward with a single jerk. The screeching filled the air as its beak caught on the dagger. Twisting the elven ranger's hand, everyone could hear the bones snap.

  “Arrrkkkh!” Was the only thing he managed to cry out before the sharcatrics jerked its head further forward and hit the ranger hard from the side into the ribs.

  The young man in green leather armor flew like a ragdoll, propelled with the powerful force of the impact. Somehow he managed to slightly stabilize himself in the air as he came crashing down against the black tree trunk.

  A thunderous crack and thud raised ash from the ground like a massive cloud of fog.

  “Sven, you piece of locutras crap, what are you doing?! Bansvand, give it hell!” Jeen bellowed, and the massive elf charged at the creature with a thrust. His sword sparking against the metal feathers.

  “I’m fine, I'm fine! It’s only one hand!” Svenvalt shouted with a high-pitched voice, gritting through his teeth. Jeen could see how the young man wiped a string of blood in the corner of his mouth.

  “Stay put, now! It’s an order. Stupid chump, how many times did I tell you to wait before! You’re getting a reprimand as soon as we come back!” The blue-eyed captain shouted with a scolding tone.

  The wounded elf was about to dash forward but stopped himself when the orders finally reached his brain. The young elf popped a fresh bottle of medium-grade health potion, chugging it down.

  “Aye, aye, captain! Reprimand me all you will, but only after this overgrown cock goes down!” Followed the response.

  All the while, arrows never stopped flying from the flanks. The wires were barely holding, screeching with every jerk. Jeen could see how the metal bent and stretched, slowly losing its grip. While the creature struggled harder against it, burrowing his mighty legs into the ground, thrashing. Soon it would render itself free.

  This is not good. It’s stronger than we anticipated. Have to try to finish it before it breaks free, somehow. We can do it! Jeen reassured himself as he dashed forward, each step followed by an arrow release. He intended to keep the beast busy.

  The tall, sinewy elf was interlocked in heavy struggle, sweat dripping down from underneath his dark green leather armor. The sharcatrics countered after every slash or stab aimed at it. Forcing the elf to block or sidestep after every attempt. Each time dangerously close to the sharp beak. It was visible that the man was barely holding his sword after each hit he received flat on its surface.

  “Fuck, this really sucks! Draggar, Floky, can't you shoot your arrows faster? And captain. Could use some help here!” He shouted after another blow nearly made him lose his balance. The aftershock reverberated through his bones while his legs burrowed nearly ankle-deep into the dry, ashen ground. Jeen himself felt the power of that blow as he flinched.

  More dust flew into the air with each passing moment, and the time was seeping through their hands like sand. They already acknowledged that the arrows were useless, nothing but a distraction.

  With a fluid motion, Jeen put his bow over his shoulder as he unsheathed two of his short blades. The polished, almost blue steel caught the fading rays of sunlight, playing within the dust and shadows.

  The reflection caught the attention of the beast’s hungry eyes immediately, making it easier for Bansvand to sneak close into its defenses. Yet his position was still far from ideal; to utilize his longsword, he would love to have more space to navigate. Nonetheless, it was a welcome respite.

  With an overhead swing, he aimed at the head. Blade whistling through the air. The creature was at the ready, yet at the last moment the sinewy elf twisted his wrists and threw his hip to the side; dashing down, he made a perfect feint and a complete change of direction. The longsword passed beside the beak and down. Arriving immediately back up, it connected with the beast’s chest.

  Scraping over the smaller feathers, it opened a shallow wound, and a few splashes of blood landed over his face. Yet before the creature made as much as a shriek, another elf appeared right from under the sword with a cross-arc of his short blades, adding a few more shallow wounds.

  Jeen then jumped into the air, kicking the beast with his leg. He used its frame as a trampoline and pivoted over the startled beast. Arriving behind, he connected both of his blades with the tender lower part of the neck where it connected to the back. Looking for the tiny gaps between its thick, stacked-like-plates feathers.

  This time it opened a deeper, gaping wound. The sliced red meat burst with the crimson mist out. The creature let out a deafening screech as it tried to flap its wings frantically.

  One of the wing edges managed to graze the Bansvand on the armor, tearing the tempered leather open, but not enough to wound him. Still, it forced the elf ranger to stumble backward with the force of the momentum.

  With another mighty thrash, the overgrown bird finally broke the metal wires holding it in place. A loud snap followed. With the release of all the tension gathered in the strings, the thin metal whistled as it slapped the flying elf from behind. Connecting over his back, digging deep within the leather of his back guard.

  Jeen felt the force of momentum that propelled him faster. He came crashing face down on the ground with a loud thud. All the rangers could clearly hear the cracking of bones and weird noises from the joints. They gritted their teeth.

  Svvanward dashed forward, despite the potion only being halfway in effect. His wrist throbbed with pain. Yet he tightened the grip on his dagger with intent.

  While the sharcatrics tried to capitalize and stomp over the fallen man, its leg did nothing but throw more dust and soil into the air. Jeen had already deftly rolled over to the side and jerked to his feet.

  The blond elf was covered in dust. A ribbon of blood appeared over his forehead, slowly dripping down. His pristine green leather armor with intricate embossing was completely ash-covered. Yet his eyes showed not a single hint of fear or hesitation. The man simply brushed it off, cracked his neck, and dashed forward.

  “Use the third formation. Svenvalt, approach from the right. Bansvand, circle around! Draggar, Floky, cut the distance to twenty paces. Step once, shoot once!” Jeen’s voice crackled slightly as he coughed up a few lumps of blood, spitting those over the ground; the elven captain wiped his mouth.

  No one dared to defy the orders from the captain, although the creature was now free. Its eyes darted, trying to choose the target. And with the archers getting even closer. It looked for the most vulnerable one. And it found it.

  Sharcatrics jumped to the right, ready to meet the elf with the dagger face forward. It lowered its neck, calculating with its gaze. Spreading its wings more, it increased the effective cover from arrows. The shafts and arrowheads snapped, ricocheting with sparks off its thickest, sharpest, metal feather it possessed.

  But the agile Svenvalt sprang forward, lowering himself to the ground level, swiping over the ground beneath the creature, throwing ash and dust.

  In the moment the creature twisted its neck to follow, the heavy longsword was already descending right between its eyes. It had to dodge, swiftly jumping to the left with all the power in its mighty legs. The sword hissed through the empty air before connecting with the ground, throwing bits of dirt into the air. The sinewy elf toppled forward, thrown by all the force he gathered for his powerful blow.

  Bansvand rolled over his shoulder, slightly startled. He immediately jumped up and turned around, eyes seeking. Ready for another round, but he was too far now.

  He saw as the creature landed with a bang. Right where two shining blades awaited its descent. A song of deadly intent whistled, cutting through the air. In a multitude of rotating motions, Jeen connected his steel with the exposed skin under the wing.

  The elf slashed and stabbed, opening one wound after the other over the tender flesh. The hot blood seeped from the wounds. Before the screaming creature could lower its wing with a scowl and force the young ranger to disengage, more than enough damage was done.

  Dark, steaming blood richly painted the ground; mixing with the cinders, it created a mushy, muddy mass. Sharactric’s blood was two times hotter than that of any humanoids. That's attributed to the creature's insane speed and agility.

  The rangers circled the wounded beast, slowly reducing the distance. The bird that seemed like a true predator just a moment ago. Now became nothing but a cornered prey. The gaze of every ranger rested on the monster, with deadly intent. Looking for another opening.

  Taking turns, the rangers engaged the beast. First, Svanvand landed a few nice blows, slashing its legs and tendrils with his daggers.

  Without pause, Banswand appeared from another side, landing a heavy blow on the wing joint from the top. The thick feathers did not show any signs of damage, but the crackling of the bones lit the sinewy elf’s eyes with satisfaction.

  Arrows hissed, roaring in the air with every heartbeat. Distracting and disorienting the creature. Allowing the three men to coordinate their close combat attacks in perfect cohesion. Slowly chipping down the beast’s defenses, drawing blood.

  Another cross slash from Jeen landed well, and with sparks litting the air, a multitude of scale-like feathers fell to the ground. The creature tried to counter with its beak immediately, ignoring the arrows hitting its neck. Yet Jeen simply caught it on the side of his blade, diverging as the creature nosedived right into the ground. Puffing and choking with ash and dust.

  Cornered, wounded, without escape, with no respite. The creature dashed and jerked from side to side, receiving blow after blow, followed by a slash and two arrows. Struggling to break free. Yet the clutches of young trained rangers felt too strong now.

  Losing more blood, receiving more wounds. It panicked, showing signs of despair. The beast was drawing its last breath. Or so the rangers felt.

  Their eyes glaring with victory firmly in their grasp. But the sharcatrics was not about to go down so easily. After another successful rotation from the rangers, it was finally ready to retaliate. The creature raised its beak and extended its neck high into the air.

  A reverberating shriek shook the ground. The oscillating sound pressured the rangers eardrums. Blood dripped from their pointy ears. The aftershock slapped them like booming thunder, making them lose focus. Momentarily they shook and wobbled, trying to regain their footing. And those few short moments were just enough for the creature to counterattack.

  The beast quickly rotated on its mighty legs, painting a few full circles in a mere moment. Flapping its wings in wide arcs. Threatening hissing filled the space as sharp feathers slit the air like arrow bolts.

  Another massive bang threw all the rangers into the air and pushed them away over twenty paces from where they stood. Airborne, none could control what happened next; all they could do was just watch.

  A few dozen sharp flying feathers like daggers flew everywhere. With more than enough aimed at them.

  Svenvalt caught three deep into his leg right at the hip. Yet he managed to jerk his head to the side out of the way, so it only grazed his cheek, opening it entirely. Blood gushed from the wound. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he grunted and gritted his teeth, screeching.

  Bansvand had one pierce directly through his armor, stuck into his chest, fortunately not deep enough, just drawing some blood. Yet the other hit him right in the jaw. He felt most of his teeth bid his mouth a goodbye, leaving it like an open door. The feather traveled further, leaving only the vomity sensation of warm blood that filled his throat.

  Floky was the farthest away, so he managed to evade most of the deadly projectiles, mostly due to his smaller frame. With just a single one sticking from his shoulder, so deep that the tip was barely visible, with another edge sticking through. The oozing pain throbbed through his arm that slowly went numb.

  Draggar was unlucky enough to get one right into his neck and three more piercing and slashing his arm. He released the grip on his bow immediately and jerked his hand, pressing it over the wound as the blood gushed in powerful streams with each of his heartbeats. His eyes widened with fear, and the world started to fade. A vast ribbon of crimson painted the air.

  Jeen twisted and jerked while flying out of control. He was too close, and over a dozen would connect. Without any other options, he extended one of his hands and gripped the ground with a loud snap of bone in half. The additional momentum allowed him to turn around. Seven daggers pierced his back before he landed on a massive coalwood trunk with his stomach.

  All the rangers came crashing down with massive force, cracking the bushes and branches with their backs.

  The ranger captain's world shook, breath beaten out of his chest. Blood filled his lungs; he could not think about anything but the pain that shackled his body. With immense effort, he somehow managed to roll over and assess the damage.

  All the rangers were now incapacitated, none even close to fighting condition. Dread, fear, doom, thoughts raced through their mind. Their expressions were shaken and lost.

  The sharcatrics stood there, finally free. Ready to serve its vengeance. And before, it saw a single target. The blonde, blue-eyed, heavily breathing young ranger that slowly slumped down the tree trunk.

  Shit, not what I anticipated. So, being a ranger… not easy. All that talent. It’s nothing without actual experience. Fuck, sorry boys… Jeen coughed, trying to find any traces of breath, his heartbeat uneven, fading. The metal feathers stuck into his back did not allow him to make another move.

  The raging beast was approaching, its massive frame getting closer, aiming for the kill. At least you’ll have a nice meal… The young ranger allowed himself a chuckle as he raised his gaze and extended a bloodied hand.

  There was already twilight. The drops of crimson looked like dark tar in such dim lighting. Slowly he closed his eyes, embracing the inevitable with a long, heavy hiss.

  Yet, suddenly he heard the voice. Words of someone speaking inside his head. Warm and sweet, like fresh-out-of-the-hive honey. Like a summer wind caressing the green leaves of the mother tree itself. Filled with conviction, with care. Jeen felt a sense of strength, of purpose. Blood stopped gushing from his wounds.

  “Raise your head, oh mighty elven warrior. Thy time has not yet come. An hour of thy passing is not yet here. Heed the call of your ancestors from beyond the eternal void. Their voices will lead the way!”

  The young captain felt the touch of tender hands brushing his shoulders, filling his body with force he never felt before. At that moment he already knew what he had to do; wounds meant nothing as he found the courage to stand and straighten up. Eyes narrowed, chest forward.

  Jeen inhaled deeply; the sensation of pain mixed with strength coursed through his body. Such a combination had no right to exist, yet it did. Time seemed to move slowly before his eyes; a single heartbeat stretched into a hundred. A light-emerald misty glow enveloped the elf. Encompassing his frame in the thick, dazzling pulsating aura.

  The four rangers could barely see it, yet they felt the energy right in their bones, resonating deep within their souls. It seemed like the pain of the wounds slowly faded, and they started to heal, closing up.

  When the glowing young ranger captain raised his head. His right eye, illuminated with a snow-white glow, beamed like a blinding sun. He opened his mouth and slowly recited the words that were coming from the depth of his heart.

  “Oh, Great Mother Eashta, true guardian of evergreen eternity. Steady my hand in the hour of need. Guide my gaze through the motion of silence. Spread my wrath against the enemy of our kin! And grant me power! For I will deliver the sentence!”

  The frenzied beast dashed forward, gaining momentum, closing in on the young man, opening its beak filled with a thousand thin, needle-like teeth. Jeen did not flinch.

  With a steady hand, he pulled the string back. The aura enveloped his fingers, the arrow, and the bow. The loud humming filled the area. Strong vibrations spread through the air, making it tremble. The space between him and the beast distorted.

  With a thunderous crack, the arrow flew forward as soon as he released his fingers. The projectile flew like a jagged arc of energy. The bang followed, and after, nothing but a crimson mist in the air. The impact destroyed the head of the sharcatrics, as it exploded into tiny bits like splinters.

  Beheaded, the long neck burst with blood like a stream, and the headless cadaver collapsed just a few paces before Jeen. Soiling his leather boots with hot, steaming blood. Its legs continued to jerk in convulsions, kicking dry soil and dust into the air.

  The blonde ranger looked down. His eyes were full of triumph as he examined the dead carcass. Fuck, we needed that head as the proof! He thought to himself as he raised his head and looked around, seeking his compadres. All the rangers were already standing, dragging closer.

  Svenvalt was limping, leaning over the bloodied Bansvand. While Floky held Draggar, wrapping his hand around his shoulder.

  “Great job, rangers, we fucking did it!” The captain shouted out, raising his bow into the air. Massive grins appeared on all of their bloody faces.

  Without a warning, all strength left Jeen’s body; his legs wobbled, and the world spun around. With a muffled thud, he collapsed to his knees and to the ground.

  The band of wounded rangers rushed towards him.

  “Your g… Captain! Captain, captain…” He could barely hear their shouts.

  What happened on that day was kept a secret. And Jeen Berkwood was birthed into life.

  The renowned ranger captain. The seventh son. The proud elven adventurer!

  Thanks for reading!

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