Chapter 24: Veil of the Redwood Night

  The moonless sky made the redwoods loom taller, their silhouettes jagged against faint starlight. Xin-ta strode quietly ahead, her clawed feet padding over the damp undergrowth without a sound. Joseph, cradling his rifle and wincing at the burn across his left flank, followed two paces behind, carrying Elaine in his arms. Though the woman had shown no signs of waking since her collapse, Joseph made sure to keep her as comfortable as possible—her head supported in the crook of his elbow, her breath steady but shallow.

  In the hush of the forest, they could both hear the sporadic, haunting echoes of the Nightmare Stalkers’ laughter. None had attacked since the brutal clash hours before, yet each cackle seemed a reminder that the peace was temporary. The acrid tang of old smoke still clung to Joseph’s nostrils. Although they’d fled the scene of that battle, the entire Redwood domain felt eerily saturated with tension, as if the trees themselves expected more bloodshed.

  Xin-ta stopped suddenly, ears twitching, tail flicking to maintain balance. She lifted her hand in a universal signal for Joseph to freeze. He obeyed at once, lowering his stance. For a tense minute, nothing stirred among the colossal trunks. Then, satisfied, she gestured for him to continue. In the weak starlight, Joseph could just make out the pained expression on her face. She was breathing harder than before, likely from the wounds on her forearm that still bled sluggishly.

  They pressed on, forging a cautious path through the forest. As a Seeker, Xin-ta was used to treading lightly over hidden trails, searching for artifacts from lost civilizations—a specialized calling in her clan. Yet now she felt naked without her mana. In her youth, she had trained to channel flickers of elemental power that allowed illusions, healing, or illusions to blend seamlessly with her environment. But since crossing paths with Elaine, that mystical sense had vanished. All she had left were her sharpened instincts, her physical prowess, and the knife clutched in her hand.

  Meanwhile, Joseph used his soldier’s training to navigate. Even though this was an alien world—one he had never before set foot on—the Kul had taken him to many hostile planets in the past, teaching him how to read terrain and find defensible routes. His unarmored chest still bore the sting of the Nightmare Stalkers’ claws, but he masked the pain as best he could. He had Elaine to worry about; he could not afford to appear weak in front of Xin-ta, who herself was battling exhaustion and pain.

  They climbed over a series of large, gnarled roots that formed a living lattice across the forest floor. The redwoods, each as wide as a small house, soared overhead, their canopies lost in the night. Now and then, faint starbeams filtered through cracks in the branches, illuminating ribbons of light that hung in midair like spectral curtains. The hush was complete—no breeze rustled the leaves, and only the distant call of unknown creatures broke the silence. Every step felt too loud, every breath too obvious.

  Eventually, they paused in a hollow beneath two mighty trunks that rose side by side, leaving a protected nook. There, Xin-ta sank to one knee, pressing her free hand to her injured forearm. She had tried to bind it with a strip of cloth earlier, but the makeshift bandage was soaked through. Joseph set Elaine down with painstaking gentleness, shifting her body so that her back was braced against a mossy root. Then he knelt beside Xin-ta, rummaging in his battered satchel for anything resembling medical supplies.

  He produced a small roll of gauze and a partially crushed tube of antiseptic gel from his own kit. He had looted these from the remains of a Kul only a few hours ago, never expecting to need them quite so soon. “Let me see,” he said quietly. Xin-ta, still panting, extended her arm without argument.

  “Don’t know why,” she murmured, voice tight with pain, “but your ways always seem more advanced than ours. You carry potions, healing salves in tubes… My clan barely uses them.”

  Joseph let out a rueful snort. “You’d be amazed how many battles I’ve survived thanks to these little luxuries.” He applied the gel gingerly to the wound. Xin-ta grimaced, flattening her ears as she suppressed a hiss. “Sorry,” he added. “Burns, doesn’t it?”

  She gave a curt nod. “Better than letting it get infected.” She allowed him to bind the arm with gauze, though her face twitched from discomfort. “Thank you, Kul.” She didn’t know what Elaine had done to her making her effectively immune to all infections already thanks to the horseshoe crabs abilities.

  That last word she spoke with the faintest glimmer of respect. Joseph noticed, but chose not to comment. Her hatred for his people, so deeply ingrained, was likely not something she could shrug off overnight—yet her voice contained less venom than before.

  Once the bandage was snug, Joseph sat back. He then turned to Elaine’s prone form, placing two fingers against her neck. Still a pulse, still shallow breathing. But she was so still, her face tight with a ghostly pallor.

  Xin-ta’s sharp eyes flicked over to Elaine. “We need her awake,” she whispered, almost in frustration. “Your friend—this… white-winged one, Zee, or the other occupant… they could help me get my mana back. Or at least they’d help us find a safer route.” She exhaled, ears drooping. “I do not like feeling so powerless.”

  Joseph offered a half-shrug. “I’m not sure it’s that simple. Elaine is… different. Even among the Kul, I’ve seen nothing like her.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from Elaine’s brow. “And she’s not exactly my friend. Honestly, I barely know her. We ended up in this situation together. I was tasked to kill her.”

  “Yet you defend her, you carry her, you fight for her,” Xin-ta pointed out. “So you must care enough.”

  For a moment, Joseph closed his eyes. “Maybe it’s just who I am, and the angel commanded it.” he admitted softly. He had never felt quite at home with the Kul. Yes, they had raised him into their ranks, but his empathy had rarely aligned with their more ruthless tendencies. “She saved you, though, right? She poured her power into healing you?”

  Xin-ta nodded. “I was… dying,” she said, almost disbelieving. Her memory of that event was fuzzy, dominated by pain and the sense of life slipping away. “In my clan, that kind of healing magic is… rare. The shaman can do some, but not enough to pull me back from the brink.” She let out a shaky breath. “Somehow, Elaine did. And these… archangels? They dwell within her?”

  Joseph was about to answer when a sudden flicker of light glowed on the gem at his wrist. The gem was dusty, scratched from earlier fights, but the faint luminescence indicated an active presence. Marious, the first archangel who had hijacked the gem. Joseph felt a subtle hum in the back of his mind, like a voice waiting to be heard. He frowned and turned to Xin-ta, lips parted in puzzlement.

  Then, abruptly, the voice of Marious echoed in both their heads, or so it seemed. A sensation of telepathic contact, though it manifested somewhat differently for Xin-ta: she heard it as a faint resonance, while Joseph experienced it as a direct presence in his thoughts.

  “Yes, well… we are Archangels, after all,” Marious said, his tone studiously polite. “But I must correct you: in my current state, I cannot see or speak to Seraphione or Zeraphine. We are, how shall I say, effectively separated from them while she is unconscious.”

  Xin-ta jumped, stifling a yelp. The shock nearly caused her to drop her knife. “W-what is…? Are you—like the winged-ones?”

  A soft chuckle drifted through the mental link.

  “Correct. The first Archangel of Earth, Marious, at your service.”

  Xin-ta shot Joseph an incredulous look. “He’s… in your gem?”

  Joseph’s expression was grim. “He hijacked it. Took over the System that we Kul rely on.” He paused. “Let’s just say he gave me a crash course in how that works, and I’m not entirely thrilled.” Then, directing his thoughts inward, Joseph asked, “Marious, so you can’t contact angels at all?”

  “No,” Marious replied matter-of-factly, “not while she is trapped in that dreamless slumber. Same goes for Zee, presumably, and any other archangels that might be lurking in her. We’re all, in a sense, tethered to her spiritual presence. But with her mind ‘shut down,’ we have no conduit to the outside world.”

  Xin-ta exhaled sharply. “But you’re talking to us right now.”

  “That is because I’ve appropriated your gem, Joseph,” the Archangel clarified. “Though the power is minimal, it’s enough to create this telepathic link. Unfortunately, I can’t do much more. Certainly not enough to rouse Elaine or those that dwell within her.”

  Joseph studied Elaine’s face. Her cheeks were slightly sunken, lips pale. She had given so much energy. “We have to help her wake up,” he murmured, not sure if he was speaking more to himself or to Xin-ta.

  Xin-ta nodded vigorously. “Yes. With my clan’s shrine or the elders’ help, perhaps. But that’s far from here. We must at least try.” Her tail swished with restless energy. “If the Archangels are so powerful, maybe they can restore my mana once they’re awake. Maybe they can protect her better.”

  A hush fell over them, broken only by a distant call from the higher branches—a birdlike screech. Joseph’s scalp prickled at the memory of that monstrous laughter, the shapes darting among the trees. They had escaped one battle, but the Redwood forest was vast, and the clan’s outpost still loomed hours, if not days, ahead.

  “Well,” Marious said, his voice echoing gently, “I shall leave the impetus to you. Wake her up if you can. But do be careful—if you let your guard down in these woods, more of those Nightmare Stalkers, or worse, might set upon you.”

  Xin-ta bristled. “The chance is worth it,” she said, determination gleaming in her eyes. “Without my powers, I’m only half a Seeker. And Joseph’s in no shape to fight a whole horde by himself.”

  Joseph gave her a knowing look. “We’ll keep watch,” he promised. “If we see or hear anything suspicious, we’ll stop.”

  So they decided on the spot. Xin-ta knelt next to Elaine, gently cupping her face. The beast-woman’s claw-tipped fingers brushed across Elaine’s temples as she tried to rouse her with whispered words. “Elaine,” she said softly. “Wake up. I need you awake. We both do.”

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  At first, Elaine’s face remained slack, her breathing unchanging. Xin-ta tried again, voice more urgent. “Elaine. Human. Please, open your eyes.” She placed her palm over Elaine’s chest, feeling the steady drum of a heartbeat. Something fluttered behind Elaine’s eyelids—perhaps a flicker of response.

  Joseph, standing watch, scanned the perimeter. It was dangerously exposed. The starlight trickled through overhead leaves, forming a faint mosaic of shadows and pale glimmers across the forest floor. The environment was so silent it felt unreal. Fear gnawed at the pit of his stomach, every crackle of bark or rustle of leaves raising alarm. Don’t let your guard down… Marious had warned. Joseph tightened his grip on his rifle, straining to hear anything out of place.

  Minutes dragged on. Xin-ta whispered soft pleas to Elaine, occasionally shaking her shoulder. The young woman’s lashes trembled, and she started to draw in a deeper breath. “Elaine?” Xin-ta repeated, voice brightening. “Yes, that’s it. Come back.”

  But the forest had other ideas.

  Joseph pivoted at a sudden, low growl from behind a fallen trunk. He hissed under his breath, stepping forward to place himself between Xin-ta—who was still bent over Elaine—and the source of the noise. The rank odor of sulfur and damp fur drifted in the still air. A prickle of dread shot through him as the shape rose from behind the mossy wood.

  It stood about seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and ridged hide. Dim starlight revealed primitive armor—lumps of leather or hide strapped across chest and thighs. In its clawed hands, it gripped a crude but deadly spear, hewn from bone and stone. A guttural snort escaped its broad mouth, revealing conical teeth. Though it bore some resemblance to the lesser creatures Joseph had seen not but moments ago, this one was bigger, bulkier, exuding a menacing aura of intellect and command.

  Xin-ta’s eyes darted up from Elaine. She saw the figure and sucked in a sharp breath, cursing under her breath in her own language. “That’s… I don’t know. A bigger demon?” Her mind scrambled for an explanation. Instinct told her that this was no ordinary predator. Indeed, Joseph felt the same. The creature’s posture was upright and disciplined, not the half-feral stance of the Nightmare Stalkers. Its eyes—reflective slits of dull red—regarded them with something akin to cunning.

  The moment Joseph raised his rifle, the hulking figure raised its spear to point at him. They stood locked in a silent standoff. Joseph wanted to shout at Xin-ta to gather Elaine and run, but his body refused to relinquish aim. This was a new threat, one he had no name for, but everything about it screamed lethal.

  “Another Dweller,” Marious supplied in Joseph’s head, his tone uneasy. “But a smarter, stronger breed—some sort of commander or elite. The one you faced earlier—the Guardian—was a creation of gods. This is different. Focus.”

  As if on cue, three slender shapes slunk out from the shadows beyond the newcomer: Nightmare Stalkers, their eyes glowing like dying embers. So they were allied? Or at least cooperating. These three looked smaller, perhaps leaner, but they carried that same flicker of malevolence. One let out a quiet, rasping laugh, and another gurgled a low series of clicks that might have been language.

  Xin-ta’s heart sank. She recognized the motions. The big creature—she dubbed it a Dread Vanguard in her mind—seemed to silently coordinate with the Stalkers. A quick jab of its spear, an angled tilt of its horned head, and the three scaly demons parted to surround Joseph and Xin-ta from different angles.

  The beast-woman whispered, “They’re ignoring Elaine. They see only you and me as threats.” She was right: the Dread Vanguard’s gaze was fixed on them, not even glancing at the unconscious woman. She recalled that the Nightmare Stalkers sometimes hunted all manner of living things, but this bigger creature seemed more concerned about potential resistance than easy kills. A conquest for food, she thought grimly, or territory. Possibly both.

  Joseph inhaled, trying to quell his throbbing side where his burn ached under the bandages. “We need to hold them off,” he whispered to Xin-ta. “We can’t let them near Elaine. If these things truly want to kill us for food or territory, we’re not outrunning them like this.”

  She nodded, a flicker of primal determination crossing her face. “I’ll handle the flanks,” she said, shifting her stance. Her knife was at the ready, though her wound stung with every pulse of her heartbeat. “You focus on that big one, if it moves.”

  Joseph positioned himself by Elaine’s side, rifle leveled at the Dread Vanguard. He could feel his breath quicken, adrenaline sharpening his senses. The forest around them seemed to recede, leaving only the circle of immediate threats in his mind.

  One of the Nightmare Stalkers made the first move. It dashed forward in a blur, scaly limbs clattering over the ground, spitting a plume of faint flame that cast dancing shadows. Joseph fired a burst, the muzzle flash revealing the creature’s skull-like face. Shots pocked the earth around it. One bullet caught its shoulder, spinning it to the side with a snarl.

  At that exact moment, the other two Stalkers charged from opposite sides. Xin-ta sprang up, her powerful legs launching her at the nearest demon. She slashed wide, forcing it back, but the second scuttled behind her, claws raised to strike. She pivoted too late. A slash raked across her thigh, tearing fresh wounds. She hissed in pain, lashing out with a back-kick that knocked the attacker off-balance.

  While Joseph tried to line up another shot, the Dread Vanguard lurched forward. Its spear thrust for Joseph’s torso with frightening speed. Joseph barely managed to sidestep, gasping at the power behind the blow. The vanguard was big but not slow—its reflexes were honed, each movement purposeful. Joseph got the barrel of his rifle around and loosed a shot, but the creature twisted its hide-wrapped arm, letting the bullet tear a chunk from its layered armor. It growled, clearly wounded yet still very much in the fight.

  Xin-ta, out of the corner of her eye, saw Joseph engaged in a dangerous dance with the vanguard. She cursed, wanting to help, but a Nightmare Stalker sprang at her from behind a thick root, forcing her to lunge aside. It spat a brief burst of flame at her face; she jerked sideways, feeling the heat singe her ears. She returned the favor by driving her knife into its midsection. The beast shrieked, a keening wail that set her teeth on edge. Blackish blood spattered her arms. A jolt of savage relief coursed through her—one Nightmare Stalker down. But she knew there were still two more.

  Joseph tried to create some distance from the vanguard, stepping back over gnarled roots. But behind him lay Elaine, and his foot caught the edge of her leg. He almost tripped, a sickening moment of dizziness washing over him. Taking advantage, the vanguard lunged. Joseph managed a single shot that grazed the creature’s hide, but then the spear’s haft slammed into his injured flank. Agony tore through him, nearly dropping him to one knee. He coughed, breath seizing.

  Meanwhile, the two remaining Nightmare Stalkers had regrouped. One circled around behind Joseph and Elaine, the other pinned Xin-ta near a trunk. Every time she tried to move toward Joseph, the creature hissed and snapped, forcing her to keep her knife raised. She saw him falter from that blow to his side. She bared her teeth, pressing a brief attack to see if she could break free, but the Stalker responded in kind with a swirl of claws. She couldn’t reach him.

  “Marious!” Joseph grunted mentally, eyes swimming with pain. “Any chance you can help?”

  “If I had more of the gem’s resources, yes,” came the archangel’s strained reply. “But I told you—Elaine’s unconscious. My power is minimal.”

  Joseph’s heart pounded. The vanguard roared, stepping forward with steady, menacing confidence. In a short, guttural bark, it issued some command to the Stalkers. The scaly horrors hissed in acknowledgment, as though receiving orders to corner and dispatch the two prey.

  A flash of insight: Joseph realized the vanguard was ignoring Elaine because it perceived her as no threat. If she woke, that could change everything—but so far, their attempts to rouse her had proven fruitless. A wave of despair threatened to close around him. He forced it down, exhaling sharply. Keep fighting.

  He fired another burst, but the vanguard jerked aside. One bullet clipped its forearm, making it snarl in pain. Infuriated, it lunged with a savage overhead strike. Joseph parried with the rifle barrel, metal scraping bone-spear with a piercing clang. Pain shot through his arms. The creature’s monstrous strength forced him backward.

  At that same moment, across the small clearing, Xin-ta managed to disembowel one Stalker with a swift thrust, but not before its companion pounced from behind. She felt claws sink into her shoulders, the weight forcing her to the ground. She roared in fury, but there was no time—her knife was pinned beneath her body, and the Stalker’s jaws gaped near her neck. It hissed, exhaling acrid breath.

  She struggled violently, hooking a leg around one of its limbs. Before she could toss it off, though, something heavy smashed into her side: another Nightmare Stalker, half-wounded, flung its weight on top. A flash of panic seized her. The combined mass of both scaly predators pinned her. Her shoulders pressed into the dirt. Her mind reeled, trying to figure out how to break free. The pain in her thigh flared. Her earlier wounds still bled through bandages. Everything felt dangerously close to an end.

  Joseph, battered by the vanguard’s unrelenting spear strikes, felt his own consciousness slipping. He was bleeding from the flank, where the earlier scorch and new bruises had opened a deeper wound. The world tilted. With a last, desperate effort, he tried to raise his rifle for another shot. The vanguard’s broad forearm slammed into his face, white light exploding behind his eyes. He staggered, losing his grip on the weapon. A second blow with the spear’s shaft caught his gut. He pitched forward, retching from the impact.

  “Huh…!” he gasped, mind spinning. As he collapsed, he caught a final glimpse: the vanguard turned away from him, scanning the clearing. Then everything spun black.

  Xin-ta was pinned, throat tight with panic. She felt her arms pinned by the second Nightmare Stalker’s claws, her knife useless beneath her. She bucked her hips, but the creatures only dug in deeper, pressing her shoulders into the earth. She saw the Dread Vanguard step over Joseph’s unconscious form—he wasn’t moving, blood staining his side.

  Her chest constricted. They’re going to kill him if they haven’t already, she thought in horror. She tried to scream in rage, but one of the Stalkers pressed a clawed hand over her mouth, muffling her.

  Then the vanguard pivoted to face the still figure of Elaine. Its glowing eyes flickered with what could have been curiosity—or predatory hunger. From behind its hide kilt, it drew a small, crude dagger, the blade chipped from black stone. It paused as if considering, then reached down with one large hand, claws glinting, to clamp around Elaine’s throat. The unconscious woman’s head lolled, her eyes shut, lips parted.

  “No!” Xin-ta tried to scream, but the Stalker’s hand muffled all but a garbled moan. She thrashed, adrenaline surging, but her injuries weakened her. The second Stalker used its free hand to pin her wrists above her head, forcing her chest to the ground. She could hardly breathe, forced to watch helplessly as the vanguard lifted Elaine by the throat.

  The vanguard’s grip tightened. Elaine’s face jerked, the choking reflex apparently jolting her from oblivion. As if from a great distance, Xin-ta saw Elaine’s eyelids flutter, lips parting in panic. One strangled gasp tore the silence. The woman’s expression twisted in confusion and sudden terror: half-dream, half reality, as her mind grasped for sense. Her limbs hung limp at first, but then the spasm of oxygen deprivation kicked in.

  Through watery eyes, Elaine made out shapes—dark silhouettes, monstrous faces, and a paralyzed beast-woman pinned under scaly horrors. She felt raw fear jolt her chest. She tried to scream, but the pressure on her throat only let out a gargled croak. Her right hand twitched, searching for anything to hold on to. The vanguard hissed in her face, a guttural rumble that might have been speech in some unknown tongue.

  Fear hammered through Elaine’s entire being. Memories of healing Xin-ta, glimpses of fighting, of Joseph’s voice, of her own battered body. She was still so weak. But survival instincts flared. She rasped a single word, or what might have been a name: “S-Ser… aphine…?”

  Xin-ta, pinned and immobile, heard that final strangled cry. Her own heart thundered. Seraphione was another of the archangels, she had gleaned from conversation. Did Elaine call for help from the angel’s power? For a single, potent second, the entire clearing seemed to hush, as if the forest held its breath. Then the vanguard roared, shaking Elaine like a rag doll, its thick hand pressed mercilessly to her throat.

  And with that, everything hung in the balance—the Redwood domain, a swirl of smoke, blood, and broken hopes. Joseph lay unconscious, half-dead. Xin-ta, pinned under two slavering Nightmare Stalkers. Elaine, forcibly awakened into a suffocating nightmare, desperately trying to call out for Seraphione.

  The next heartbeat would determine if salvation arrived—or if they were all about to be swallowed by the night.