By The Moon's Blade

2. Grasshaven, About One Year Ago

I can't see much ahead. The lantern makes a meager thirty foot radius around me as I walk madly through the forest. I can't sprint. Too much noise.

I try my best to follow her path, but with her gentle footsteps, it's hard to find any indication of where she may have gone. Vanished without a trace. I hear cracks in the wilderness, likely just a family of duskdeer, but I can't help but picture a towering creature with fangs and talons and claws, watching me from the treetops.

I pull my coat around me, as if the thick fur could protect me from the world around. I feel a familiar pang of sorrow for my past life, remembering what this gift around my shoulders meant. I've never forgotten them, not for a moment. I still dream about the way a few wisps of pitch-black hair fell in their face while fireworks shined in the sky and that final moment we spent together, walking home to Starmill hand-in-hand, kissing goodbye and leaving them at the door of their cottage. I remember that feeling of hope and excitement, and how those feelings so dramatically foreign to me now.

I know I'll never see Shalia again. My hope is long gone. It's why I try my best not to think about them, it hurts too much. But, I have to be here for my family now. And in moments like these, I realize why it's so important that I stay.

I watch the ground squish beneath my feet and swing the lantern slowly around me, trying to catch a glimpse of anything. When suddenly, I see it. I couldn't miss that familiar periwinkle glow, pulling me in with all the gravitational force of curiosity.

And around it, a swath of trampled grass and smeared mud, signs of a struggle. That earlier boulder becomes heavier in my gut, begging to pull me down to the ground. I take a deep inhale of the forest's thick air, letting it flow into my veins and limbs. I carefully walk around the squashed grass and look for any further clues, but to no avail.

Setting down my lantern in the grass, I pull my knife out and bend down to grab the crystal with my other hand. The knife continues to glow in that same lavender luminosity, but with a noticeably brighter luminescence. The dagger may only delay the inevitable, but if I'm to succumb to the same thing that possibly took my mother, I won't be going down without a fight.

With the crystal in hand, I begin rotating around the area, hoping that whatever mysterious magic residing in the stone will unleash itself. I send a silent curse out to my mother for keeping me in the dark, both literally and figuratively. I notice that the stone begins to blink softly as I turn my body in one specific direction.

A lost pup howling out to its owner.

I snatch the lantern from the ground, slip my knife back in my pocket, and begin following the signal radiating from the crystal. Each step is rewarded with more frequent flashing, a sign that I'm headed in the right direction. I find more swaths of grass that have been compressed by the weight of heavy feet. I stop for a moment, bringing the lantern around the area, hoping to find a miracle buried in the mire.

What I find instead are three broad gashes swiping across a large tree trunk, a little below my eye level. I drag my fingertips solemnly across the marks, noting how deep they were able to gouge into the solid wood. And in the past year of hunting in these forests, I find myself at a loss on what creature could have possibly made this sort of cut.

I bring my hand back down to my side and slip my hand in my pocket once more, clutching the knife's hilt. The certain death that I find myself facing is unfamiliar but apparent. I need to find my mother quickly. The nighttime chill is setting in at a fast pace, weather that she's likely unprepared to handle.

I begin walking a bit more quickly between the trees, almost jogging, though the mud below tugs at my feet with each step. My already quickened heartbeat hastens once more, a stampede of hooves thudding below my chest. I am a being fueled only by adrenaline, fear kicking into overdrive as I picture the cruel monster throwing a large claw out at my mother.