In the heart of the open forest, the wind cut through the tall trees, the leaves rustled as the whispered like restless spirits. Branches groaned under their own weight, swaying with a rhythm only the forest understood. Deeper, creatures both big and small, paws, claws, hooves, leaf prints on the ground. The forest seemed alive, watching and waiting.
A brisk of sunlight lay resting on a tall tree, carved into the shape of a house. Zodac lay down on a sack filled with hay, as the sun pierced his vision, scattering shimmer of gold across his face. He squinted, using his hand to shield his eyes.
He sat up straight, murmuring a short prayer, a habit he'd kept since childhood, a way to steady himself in silence of the forest.
His gazed drifted toward the entrance, where the cloak hung loosely from a craved hook, its fabric catching the sunlight. The sight of it stirred his memory of the past, the night Derek died. Each thought was heavy, fleeting, and heavy, pressing against the edges of his mind.
The cloak seemed almost alive, swaying slightly as the morning breeze blew as if it had sensed Zodac's attention. "You linger too long in memory," it whispered slightly, almost teasing, almost warning. "Leave the past, it is safe here, but the world moves on without you."
Eight years had passed since Zodac fled Vrott. He had learned to survive on his own, but every shadow, every whisper of wind, reminded him that the world he'd fled was still waiting.
Zodac rose, took a deep breath, and walked toward the entrance. He took his cloak. The forest greeted him with its usual chorus, leaves rustling, distant birds calling, the faint crack of twigs underneath. His hands running practiced over the smooth oak wood of the bow. The quiver rested easily against his back; he filled it with arrows he had made himself, feathers trimmed and fletched with care. He tested the string of the bow once, letting it hum lightly under his fingers, and he felt the rhythm of preparation and anticipation settle into his chest.
He decided to hunt for food. He stood at the entrance, took a quick breath, and jumped. He maneuvered his body to turn back as he fell, using his right hand to hold on to a rope knotted to a tree. He was swiftly pulled down onto the forest floor. This maneuver caused a bruise to his hand that soon blossomed into a dark mark.
Every time he landed, the impact reverberated through his body.
As he straightened up, he shook his hand, feeling the familiar sting
"Fuck," he said, in agony.
Over the years, he'd grown accustomed to this pain, constantly switching between his hands to avoid overusing one. It was a daily routine; one hand would handle the present and the other would take over tomorrow. Each bruise was a testament to his striving, a mark of his endurance and the life he'd forged in the wild.
Zodac moved silently and cautiously, aware of what might lie hidden in the depths. Each step is calculated and deliberate. His eyes scanned the clearing before him, picking up the faintest movement or scent. He crouched low, drawing his bow with a practiced grip, and waited for the perfect opening.
Each sound, every rustle of leaves, was part of the dance of the forest.
As Zodac drew his bow, his focus remained solely on his kill, a deer, every movement measured and deliberate. As he was about release the arrow, something moved in the shadows. In an instant, a large majestic feline form leapt forward. Its fur blending perfectly with the environment. The deer vanished in a blur, leaving Zodac staring into the dimness, and intrigued. The creature slipped back fast into the shadows, leaving behind only whispers of its presence.
Driven by curiosity and determination, Zodac chased after the creature, his footsteps silent but fast. As he ran, memories of Derek's stories came flooding back, about great forest creatures with extraordinary abilities known as a Mythix, the guardians of the wilderness that were both awe-inspiring and elusive.
Zodac assumed it was a myth, a story Derek told him to entertain his mind. But as he witnessed the creature before him, it all seemed to be true, something extraordinary and beyond his expectations. Unsure of what to make of it, caught between wonder and uncertainty.
Zodac raised his bow once more, aiming carefully, but the creature's eyes twitched, and in a heartbeat, it turned its gaze toward him. There was a moment of tense silence, as if the creature weighed its options. Then, in a fluid motion, it shifted, ready to engage, as if challenging Zodac's presence.
Zodac, noticing the creature's aggressive posture, shot an arrow towards it. The creature, swift, evaded the shot and lunged towards Zodac, its claw outstretched. Zodac reacted just in time, ducking under the creature's attack and swiftly turning to take another shot. But before he could aim, the majestic feline's tail swept him off his feet, sending him tumbling to the ground.
There was no time to dwell on the pain as the creature lunged forward once more. Zodac rolled quickly out of the way, and with a quick, agile motion, he performed a backflip to regain his stance, readying himself for the next move.
The creature growled at Zodac, its fangs sharp as a two-edged sword, glinting in the dim light. Zodac, focused and determined, was trying to pace his thoughts, thinking of his next move.
Zodac came up with a clever plan. As the creature lunged at Zodac once more, he swiftly led it into the cleverly hidden trap. Zodac had built traps before, both to catch animals and to keep away bandits and scouts. The creature's powerful limbs got caught, and it let out a low, pained growl. Zodac paused, his heart pounding heavily, as he saw the creature's eyes show a flicker of vulnerability. Despite the instinct to keep fighting, Zodac felt a surge of empathy. He carefully released the creature from the trap, watching as it cautiously rose, studying him with wary eyes. The creature growled aggressively and lunged towards Zodac once more, but Zodac stood still, and slowly the beast came to a halt. For a moment, the forest stood still, and Zodac chose not to strike.
Instead, he offered a silent truce, and the creature, sensing no immediate threat, simply watched him. The tension slowly dissipated.
Zodac looked into the creature's eyes as though he could see beyond it. He stretched out his palm towards its face, but the Mythix stepped back, wary. Zodac closed his eyes and turned his gaze away from its majestic presence, showing respect and understanding. Sensing no threat, the Mythix gently pushed its head into Zodac's open palm, bridging the gap between them with a moment of truce.
The once aggressive feline became calm and playful, throwing Zodac to the forest floor and giving him a good lick.
"Come on, stop that," he said, laughing softly.
The Mythix jumped up from him, giving him a stern look, as though there was something different about Zodac, an aura that spoke of power, power beyond measure. As the Mythix sensed the power within Zodac, it slowly bowed its head, a gesture of respect and acknowledgement. Zodac, taken aback, stared in confusion, unsure of what he had done to earn such reverence. The creature is still with its head bowed, looked up at him with eyes full of wisdom and a hint of trust.
Zodac cautiously reached out, his confusion mixing with curiosity, and in that moment, a silent bond formed between them.
"You know what? I will call you, Olivia," he said, certain that the trust between them was building.
Olivia leapt up and down, climbing trees, showing her excitement.
Olivia leapt and bounded about Zodac, her playful energy filling the forest with joyful echoes. Zodac smiled as he tried to keep up, their bond growing as time passed. But suddenly, amidst their laughter, a piercing scream echoed through the air from the depths of the forest, sending a shiver through the air. In an instant, the joyful atmosphere turned tense, and Zodac and Olivia exchanged a glance, knowing something was wrong.
Zodac leapt onto Olivia's back, and with a determined nod, he urged her onward. Zodac held tightly, as together they ventured into the deep.
The world he once ran from… now what awaited him?