Kael sat on a fallen pine, hands resting on his knees, back straight as if he'd swallowed a spear. The bark beneath him was cold, rough, moss-grown in places—damp and slippery under his fingers. He didn't stir, only drew slow breaths of the pre-dawn air, thick and sharp with resin and rotting needles.
The forest was waking.
The first birds called from somewhere high above—short, cautious trills, as though testing whether it was safe to break the silence. Others answered, and soon quiet chirping spread through the pine and fir crowns, filling the space with life.
Kael half-closed his eyes.
Cold bit his face, penetrated his shirt, settled on his skin like tiny needles. He inhaled deeper, savouring how the frosty air burnt his throat and lungs, forcing his chest to expand fully, to the very ribs. His exhale escaped as vapour, dissolving in the grey half-light.
Here, at the forest's edge, far from the nearest settlement—the village of Anish'taa—it was quiet. So quiet that every rustle was audible: a branch creaking under an unseen squirrel's weight, fallen needles rustling beneath some creature's paws, a twig snapping in the distance.
He opened his eyes.
The sky between the trunks had taken on a pale grey hue, heralding dawn. Mist spread low, clinging to roots and creeping into crevices between stones. The forest seemed frozen—ancient and indifferent to the presence of thinking beings.
Kael ran his palm across the bark, feeling the irregularities and cracks beneath his fingers. The tree had died long ago—roots torn out by a storm, the trunk lying across the path, slowly decaying and giving itself to the earth. But death here held no fear. It was part of the forest, its natural cycle, as much as birth and growth.
Somewhere in the distance an animal howled—long, mournful, and the sound echoed strangely in his chest. Kael didn't stir. He only listened as the howl faded, melting into the morning air, giving way to fresh chirping and the rustling of the waking forest.
He loved these minutes.
Before the camp fully woke. Before the bustle of a new day began—and it promised to be hard, like all the recent days. Here, in this silence, surrounded by pines and mist, he could permit himself simply to exist—not command, not control, not plan. Simply breathe and feel how the cold penetrated his body whilst the forest lived its life, paying him no mind.
A branch cracked to the left. Kael turned his head, peering into the grey half-light between trunks. Nothing. Only shadows swaying in the faint wind, and silhouettes of firs receding into the depths.
He returned his gaze forward, to where the sky slowly lightened, taking on a pale pink tint. The first rays would soon break through the crowns, and then the forest would change—become brighter, louder, fill with movement and voices.
But until that happened, Kael allowed himself the luxury of silence.
An exhale of vapour. An inhale of cold air.
The pre-dawn forest was silent with him.
A branch cracked louder, closer. Kael didn't turn round—kept looking ahead, at the paling sky between trunks, but the muscles in his back tensed instinctively, preparing for a lunge or strike.
Footsteps approached cautiously, almost inaudibly—only the faintest rustle of needles, light pressure on the ground. Someone knew how to move quietly. Very quietly.
Warmth touched his shoulders—arms slid round his chest, embracing from behind. Gently, without tension. A familiar scent—pine resin, campfire smoke and something else, subtle, almost imperceptible. Elira.
Kael froze.
She pressed her cheek to the back of his head, and he felt her breath—warm, even, starkly contrasting with the morning cold. Her fingers clasped on his chest, just below his ribs, and she stood like that, silent, as though afraid to break the stillness.
He didn't move. Didn't pull away. Simply sat, feeling her presence—the warmth of her body, the weight of her arms, a faint prickling where her skin touched his neck.
The forest continued waking. Birds sang louder, wind rustled in the crowns, somewhere in the distance a twig snapped beneath someone's paws. The sky lightened, tinting the mist pink.
Kael exhaled slowly, and vapour dissolved in the air before him. Elira pressed a little closer, her arms slid higher, encircling his shoulders, and he felt her chest rise and fall—a deep breath, like relief.
"You're early," he said at last, not turning his head. His voice came out quieter than usual—almost hoarse from morning silence.
"Couldn't bear listening to them any longer," she answered, and her breath touched his ear, warm and moist. "Decided to find you..."
He nodded, though she couldn't see it. Her arms still held him, firmly but without pressure—as though she clung not to him but to the very possibility of being near.
Kael closed his eyes.
The warmth of her body seeped through his shirt, dispelling the cold settling in his muscles. He felt her every breath, every barely noticeable movement—how she swayed slightly, shifting weight from foot to foot, how her fingers tightened on his shoulder, how her cheek pressed closer.
She was silent. So was he.
Somewhere above, a bird gave a piercing whistle, and its trill spread through the forest, echoing off trunks and fading in the mist. The wind strengthened, bringing the smell of damp bark and rotting leaves. Sun broke through the crowns, and the first rays slid across the ground, tinting the moss golden.
Elira sighed—quietly, almost imperceptibly—and her arms relaxed, though she didn't release him. She simply held on, as though afraid that if she let go—he'd vanish, dissolve in the morning mist along with the shadows.
Kael opened his eyes, looking at the dawn sky. Grey, shifting to pink, with thin clouds like torn threads.
"Cold," Elira whispered, and her voice trembled—barely noticeably, but he heard it.
"Yes," he agreed.
But neither of them moved. She continued holding him, pressing ever closer, and he let her—didn't pull away, didn't leave. Simply sat, feeling her warmth and listening as the forest awakened around them.
The man hadn't thought that following his daughter into Seratis, he'd find in it something more than simply helping her. Yes, Elira had been with him in the previous world too, travelled beside him, fought shoulder to shoulder, carried out orders without question—but there, one important thing had been missing, that which changed and overturned everything. Namely—"The Final Game", an event that became a trial, revealing the true essence of each of them.
The quest had fallen on them suddenly, like snow in the middle of a scorching desert, catching them off guard and nearly causing the entire group's death. At that moment they'd stumbled upon a snake wedding—a whole cluster of writhing, hissing creatures, woven into a single tangle in the middle of a clearing. They decided to fight them, since they were only first level, so no particular problems were expected. Routine extermination of low-level mobs.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The moment Kael had burst into the very thick of the snake tangle and drawn aggro to himself, diverting all the enemies' attention, a semi-transparent quest text suddenly appeared before his face, blocking his view. He found no time to read it—snakes coiled round his legs, sank fangs into his boots, their venom beginning to seep through his defences. He only irritably waved the window away, dismissing it, focusing on the fight. But the other group members, seeing the same notification, decided that reading the text was more important than supporting the tank, more important than the one standing between them and death.
He shouted at them, his voice breaking into a roar, demanding help, support, anything—but it helped little. The girls froze, staring at their interfaces, reading the quest's long description, as though time had stopped, as though he weren't bleeding out health with every second. Snakes pressed ever tighter, their hissing merging into a single deafening din. Kael was already preparing to die, deciding at least to kite the mobs away from the group, give them a chance to flee.
Elira came to her senses first—sharply, as though struck. She snapped the quest window shut with one movement and, with slaps and shouts, bringing the girls frozen in stupor to their senses, brought the group to order. She was the first to rush to the general's aid, her blades already drawn when she tore forward through the grass.
Elira's blades sliced the air, scattering the two snakes coiled round Kael's shin. Black blood sprayed onto the grass, hissing and smoking, burning through the greenery. He jerked, throwing the stunned snakes off his other leg, and felt venom burning his flesh—dull, throbbing pain spreading from ankles upward, to his knees. They'd still managed to leave him their gift.
"Hold on!" Elira shouted, blocking the next creature's lunge. The snake flew aside but immediately returned, writhing in the air in a fresh leap.
The other girls rushed after her—someone stumbled, someone hesitated, yanking weapons from their backs. Spears clattered, stretched forward in an uneven line. Nine silhouettes surrounded the tangle, keeping at arm's length, jabbing points at the writhing mass.
"Hit the heads!" Kael roared, drawing his second sword in place of his useless shield and making a wide sweep before him. The blade struck three bodies at once, but failed to kill any of the creatures. And the snakes kept coming—there were too many, the tangle seemed endless, new creatures crawling out from everywhere, hissing and opening their maws.
One of the girls shrieked—a snake coiled round her spear shaft, crawled up the wood, straight towards her hands. She flung the weapon away, leaping backwards, but the creature had already dropped from the shaft, lunging through the air. Elira caught it mid-flight, slashing across its body, cutting it in half. The halves fell to the grass, twitching.
"Don't drop your spear, you fool!" She shouted, turning. "Hold tighter!"
Two more snakes broke through the defence, coiling round Kael's boot—higher, towards his thigh. He slashed downward with his sword, barely avoiding his own leg, and black blood burnt his skin through the fabric. Venom ate deeper, muscles filling with heaviness, as though with lead. His breathing quickened.
"Papa!" His daughter's voice cut through the battle's din. She stood behind the group, arms extended forward, palms glowing with dull greenish radiance. Light flowed from her fingers, stretched in invisible threads through the air and touched Kael's back.
Warmth spread through his body—pleasant, enveloping, extinguishing pain. Venom retreated, muscles relaxed, and Kael exhaled sharply, gripping his swords more comfortably. Health replenished slowly but steadily—the bar in the corner of his vision crept upward, millimetre by millimetre.
"Keep it on me!" He called over his shoulder, plunging back into the thick of snakes. Blades rose, fell, rose again—each strike accompanied by crunching and blood hissing. Bodies piled around, but the tangle didn't thin. Snakes crawled, pressed, sank fangs into all accessible places.
The girls jabbed with spears—clumsily, convulsively, with shrieks and curses. One missed, stabbing her point into the ground, and a snake coiled round the shaft, lunging upward. The girl yanked the spear towards herself, but the creature wouldn't let go—hung there, writhing, swaying in the air. Her neighbour jabbed with her own spear, piercing the snake through. It dropped, fell, jerked in agony.
"Closer! Tighten formation!" Kael roared, backing away, drawing the mobs to the centre. Elira covered his right, her blades flashing, cutting down everything that came from the side. On the left the girls jabbed with spears, keeping distance, but snakes seeped between the shafts, slipped under feet.
One of them bit Elira in the calf—fangs passed through leather trousers, and she jerked, hissing through her teeth. Kael slashed, severing the creature, but venom was already penetrating her body. Elira swayed, re-gripping her blade.
"Heal her!" He shouted to his daughter, but she was already redirecting the light, green radiance flowing to Elira, enveloping her legs.
The snake tangle rolled forward in a wave, not thinning, and Kael understood—if this continued, the group would fall.
An itch began at the base of his skull—dull, insistent, as though someone was driving a needle under his skin. Kael froze for a second, and a snake took advantage—lunged forward, sank fangs into his forearm. He flung it away with a sweep, but felt almost no pain. The itch drowned out everything else.
Something stirred inside—deep, at the level of instinct, where words and thoughts didn't exist. A call. Soundless but deafening. It pressed on his chest, twisted his ribs from within, demanded release. And he yielded to it, unable to resist.
The man snarled—low, from the throat, and the sound that escaped wasn't human. His hands trembled, fingers clenched on sword hilts so tightly the skin went white. Bones beneath skin began moving, shifting, lengthening. Pain slashed along his spine, from nape to tailbone, and he arched, throwing his head back.
"Papa!" His daughter's voice came from somewhere far away, through the roar in his ears.
The swords fell from his hands, struck the ground beside writhing snakes. Kael dropped to all fours, palms pressed into grass, and he felt claws pierce the skin at his fingertips, extending outward—long, curved, black. His back stretched, the shirt tore at the seams, fabric ripping, exposing skin that darkened, covering with thick fur.
The call intensified. It filled his head entirely, displacing everything—fear, pain, thought. Only fury remained. Pure, animal, directed at everything that moved around.
His face elongated, jaw widened with a crunch, teeth lengthened, becoming fangs. His nose flattened, became wet and sensitive—smells crashed down in an avalanche, each distinct and sharp: snake blood, the girls' sweat, damp earth and rotting needles. Ears shifted higher, rounded, and the snakes' hissing grew louder, each sound echoing with pain.
His body swelled, muscles filled with mass, bones cracked, lengthening and thickening. Kael collapsed onto his side, rolled, shaking the ground. Snakes scattered, but he no longer saw them—vision blurred, the world tinted in grey-brown tones, stripped of detail. But smells and sounds became brighter, richer.
A final surge—spine arched, hind paws thrust from the ground, and Kael rose. A massive brown bear, nearly three metres at the shoulder, with fur the colour of old bark and eyes in which nothing human remained.
A roar tore from his chest—deep, rolling, shaking the air. The girls recoiled, spears trembling in their hands. Elira froze, blades lowered, eyes wide.
The bear turned to the snake tangle. The call demanded blood.
He lunged forward, paws crushing grass into earth, claws tearing chunks of turf. The first snake he crushed with his weight—simply stepped on it, and it burst beneath the pads, spraying black ooze. The second he swept aside with a paw, claws ripping the body into three pieces. The third tried to bite, but fangs couldn't pierce the hide—too thick, too dense. The bear caught it in his maw, shook his head, and the snake's spine crunched.
The tangle scattered. Snakes fled in all directions, but the bear was faster. He crushed them with paws, tore with claws, caught in teeth and flung aside. Black blood covered his muzzle, the fur on his chest matted with it, but he didn't stop. The call demanded more.
The girls lowered their spears, retreated to the clearing's edge. Kael's daughter pressed a hand over her mouth, green radiance fading. Elira took a step forward but froze, staring at the brown behemoth crushing everything in its path.
The last snake tried to crawl into the bushes. The bear caught it in a single leap, pinned it to the ground with a paw and bit into its head with fangs. Crunch. The hissing ceased.
The clearing fell silent. Only the bear's heavy breathing disturbed the stillness—raspy, wet, with a gurgling somewhere in its chest. He slowly turned, surveying the group. The call still rumbled inside but was fading, retreating.
Elira lowered her blades point-down. Met his gaze.
"Kael," she whispered.
The bear jerked its head, shaking it from side to side. The fur on his scruff stood on end, he growled.
Elira stepped forward.
The girls behind her froze, gripping spears with whitened fingers. Someone sobbed. The bear roared louder, maw gaping, exposing fangs smeared with black blood.
She didn't stop.
Another step. Grass flattened beneath her boots, a twig snapped. The beast twitched, paw rising, claws flashing in the sun.
"Kael." Her voice rang firm, without tremor.
The bear froze. Ears twitched, turned towards her.
She lowered her blades to the ground, released the hilts. Raised her hands palms forward—slowly, so he could see every movement. Stepped closer. A metre. Half a metre.
The beast growled—low, warning. Fur on his withers stood on end.
"Come back," she whispered and extended her hand.
Fingers touched the wet nose. The bear flinched but didn't recoil. Elira ran her palm higher—along the muzzle, between the eyes, to the ears.
"Come back to me."
The beast exhaled—hot, wet, smelling of blood and fury. Eyes blinked. Something flickered in them...
