Elysium

Level 3

MAREN

Three

The sun is near setting. Cheval City is going to have to wait until tomorrow. For now, we have decided to set out for the only inn on the way to the central city. According to our guides, we have three miles to go.

My feet are aching. I’m sure it’s not just me. Nobody just wants to complain because this has become some kind of mental battle among us – particularly Drial and myself. Aethan had been silent for the last twelve miles. Whenever I look over my shoulder to see what he’s been up to, his head had just been bent over something. Twice or thrice we paused because he found something on the side of the road. Perhaps he’s working on his weapon.

“Darkness in three minutes,” Stam reminded.

And we still have a few more miles to go. Shoot! This is bad. There are no lamp posts near the path so when it turns dark, we will have little to no illumination for us to continue on safely.

To make matters worse, Drial’s –equally obnoxious– dryad just informed us that menacing carnivores prefer to hunt at night.

If we’re going to make it there, we’re going to have to make it fast. If we die here, we’ll be resurrected back at Chartreuse fields!

“Ten seconds,” Faith chanted.

“Nine,” Stam follwed-up.

“Eight.” Faith.

“Seven!” Stam.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Seriously!”

Aethan whacked his new invention frantically on his hand, in the air, everywhere really. He started cursing when Stam counted down to one.

Unfortunately, after the sun’s descent, the moon was nowhere in sight. It was as dark as pitch.

Growls from nearby bushes made shivers run down my spine. Instinctively, my right hand found the hilt of my short sword and the other, to the staff on my back. I worried about Aethan’s weapon. He seemed to be trying to make it work.

Whack! Whack!

“Hahaaaa!” he exclaimed. To my surprise, a bright light came from his direction. It almost looked like he was holding a flashlight. Wait a minute…

“That’s—“

A grinding sound near my ear made me flinch. When I looked over, a wolf... err… fox or whatever that creature was, was hanging inches from my face. If not for the blade in between, those ferocious fangs would have probably been stuck to my throat instead.

Drial threw the creature to the ground with such an immense force that it was only able to whine once then remained immobile.

“The anamus is afraid of light,” Stam informed.

Aethan swung the light around revealing the hounds peeking from the crests of bushes. At the sudden shaft of light, they retreated a few steps but they were still definitely there. The growls were proof of that.

“Aname like to hunt in the dark. Their eyes were trained to see only in the dark. When there is light, they’re blind,” Faith chirped.

“Good job!” I commended Aethan. “I see why you became a crafter.”

“Haha, thanks,” he replied sheepishly. “The game provided all the equipment a crafter might need to make a suitable flashlight. I picked up coal and resistors on the way.”

“Ohh. All the while I thought you were working on your weapon.”

“Nah, I thought we might have to walk in the dark, you know… So I made this first.” He grinned as he raised the flashlight as if it was a trophy.