Falling Star.

Shadows on The Craters Edge.

The smoke was thick, erupting in dark plumes from multiple spots across the town. As the cart strained under the effort of its frenzied pace, stray crops flew out, but that was the least of their concerns. They hadn't had an attack in years—at least, not on this scale. The last major assault was the one that had claimed the lives of Eveline and Aleksander's parents. Aleksander's hands clenched the fabric of his pants as he thought of it, heart pounding with dread at the idea of any child burying their parents by dawn. Though he hadn't consciously acknowledged it, he had already resolved to fight, to prevent others from suffering as he and Eveline had.

With the nightmare horse's blazing speed, they reached the town in a third of the usual time. The source of the horror was clear immediately: monstrous corpses lumbered through the town with a staggered gait, assaulting buildings and townsfolk alike. Each creature was riddled with jagged holes, as if cannonballs had struck them at close range, though Aleksander knew better. These were the nightmares from the Meteor Fields—the very creatures responsible for his parents' deaths.

Fear coursed through him the moment he spotted them, his chest tightening as his hand reflexively clutched at his heart. He glanced at Eveline and saw the terror mirrored in her eyes; though she had been younger during the last attack, she recognized the creatures all too well.

As soon as the cart came to a halt, Marian whipped out a knife and cut the ropes binding the horse to the cart with a swift motion. "Kids," she barked, "either find a place to hide or find something to hit with. Don't forget what these nightmares are capable of—it'll be the death of you if you do."

With that grim warning, Aleksander and Eveline witnessed something they hadn't seen in years: Marian wielding her fear magic. She was a Markiza, a name for those who had dominated a nightmare creature, using its power rather than fully conquering it. Some called such hunters The Coping, for they couldn't entirely rid themselves of fear, but they were as formidable as any warrior.

Marian's body shimmered with a sickly red and black glow, her form melding with the nightmare horse's until the two fused in a twisted union. The end result was unsettling—a centaur-like figure, but warped and wrong. It was as if the horse had devoured her, with only her arms punched through like limbs protruding from sleeves in the horse's neck, her face peering through its gaping mouth. Without another word to the two of them, she charged into the fray.

They watched as she galloped into a cluster of the lumbering corpses, hacking with her small knife. Soon, the mass of bodies surged forward, obscuring her from view. Aleksander knew he couldn't spare another thought on her safety; they had to act.

Grabbing Eveline's hand, he pulled her along as they bolted toward home, darting down alleys and taking detours to avoid the nightmares. The path was longer this way, but finally, they made it back to their house, stumbling through the door and gasping for breath. Aleksander's heart felt like it would burst from his chest, and Eveline seemed equally drained, yet she found her strength quickly. Without a word, she rushed to her wardrobe, digging through until she found an old, rusted iron blade.

"We need to help!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with urgency. "There are too many of them. They're going to be overrun if we don't do something!"

Aleksander didn't want to admit it, but he knew she was right. Even so, he refused to risk his sister's life. Silently, he walked over, gently taking the blade from her grasp. Reaching out, he tousled her hair, attempting to give her a reassuring smile, though fear still tugged at his expression.

"I'll fight, Eveline," he said firmly, "but you're staying here. No matter what happens out there, you don't leave this house."

"But—" she began, her voice catching.

"No." His tone softened, but his resolve was unshakable. "I promise I'll do everything I can to come back. But if I'm out there, worrying about you... I won't be able to fight. I need you safe, Eveline. We're both making it through this—I promise."

Her lip quivered, but she didn't argue further. Tears filled her eyes as she hugged him fiercely, then ran to her room, crawling under the bed to hide, just as they'd practiced for situations like this.

Aleksander lingered by the door for a moment, steeling himself. Then he heard it—a heavy, thunderous thudding just outside. The nightmares were close. Gripping the worn leather handle of the sword, he stepped outside, standing on the dirt path that stretched ahead of him, flanked by houses on either side.

Down the street, an enormous nightmare staggered forward, moving with an unsteady but relentless gait. He cursed under his breath; the thing only bore two major wounds, one through its face and another through its calf. It won't be easy, he thought grimly. But there was no turning back. With a yell, he rushed forward, summoning every ounce of courage he could find.

The nightmare lumbered toward him, swinging a massive fist with alarming speed. Aleksander barely dodged, rolling to the side just in time. Their movements were sloppy but dangerously powerful. Taking advantage of its brief pause, Aleksander drove his blade into its gut, watching as thick, dark blood oozed from the shallow wound. His sword, neglected and dulled by age, sank only a couple of inches into the creature's flesh.

The nightmare glared down at him with a hateful, sharpened gaze from its one good eye. Aleksander tugged at the sword, finally yanking it free just as the giant's fist connected with his side. The force sent him hurtling across the street, crashing through a wooden wall. He heard the unmistakable snap of ribs breaking but forced himself up, fueled by sheer will and adrenaline.

Blood poured from his nose, and bruises bloomed across his skin, but he could still stand. And if he could stand, he could fight. The giant seemed to have lost interest, assuming him dead, and was now lumbering toward his house—toward Eveline.

Panic surged through him. He stumbled forward, gritting his teeth through the pain, and then ran. He snatched up his sword from the ground and charged again, aiming for the creature's injured leg. With a burst of unexpected strength, he hacked at the rotted knee joint, severing the leg. The giant toppled, catching itself on its hands, leaving Aleksander with a brief, triumphant moment.

Seizing his chance, he raised the sword again, aiming for the nightmare's arm on the damaged side. But as the blade connected, it shattered, snapping in half with a harsh clang.

"Damn it!" he swore, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Before he could react, the nightmare's remaining hand shot out, grasping him in a crushing grip. He was lifted off his feet, brought face-to-face with its rotting, death-stenched maw. The creature's lipless mouth twisted in a grotesque grin, mocking his helplessness. Aleksander's heart hammered in his chest, his limbs frozen.

Then, with a vicious flick, the nightmare flung him backward. He felt himself bounce off the ground, his body skimming the dirt like a stone across water—though without any of the grace. Finally, he crashed against a wall, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He lay there, battered and broken, watching as the nightmare crawled its way closer to his home.

Desperately, he tried to move, tried to summon even an ounce of strength, but his body refused to obey. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. He could only watch as his consciousness faded, and the nightmare continued its relentless approach.

Just before his world turned entirely black, he glimpsed a figure sprinting into view, something glinting in their hand. Was it a hunter, another nightmare, or something else? He couldn't tell. The questions faded from his mind, and in his last moments, he thought only of Eveline.

And then, silence. Darkness took hold.