A Dream Turned Nightmare
The clouds above the village thickened into a dark, restless curtain.
What little light remained faded quickly, swallowed by the churning mass overhead. The first drops of rain struck rooftops and wooden fences with soft, irregular taps—too gentle to be called a storm, yet heavy with promise.
Kael stood beneath the gate’s roof and stared upward at the sky. At the stillness beneath it.
Something felt wrong.
The air felt heavy, pressing down on his chest. The wind had gone completely still, as if the mountain itself had forgotten how to breathe.
His ears twitched.
His eyes narrowed.
“Everyone!” Kael shouted suddenly. “Let’s move!”
“Right!”
That was all it took.
The words hadn’t even finished echoing before the guards sprang into action. Their training took over, sharp and instinctive. Positions shifted. Patrols rotated. Watchers climbed to higher ground, bows and eyes trained outward.
The tribe had rehearsed this countless times.
Fire.
Storms.
Wild beasts.
Intruders.
They were ready for many things. But tonight’s enemy was nothing they had prepared for.
☆
High within the forest canopy, shadows watched in silence.
The assassins lay still among the branches, bodies pressed close to bark and leaves as if they were part of the trees themselves. Their leader’s eyes glowed faintly with violet light, cutting cleanly through the darkness as he surveyed the village below.
Every movement.
Every torch.
Every guard.
“Alright, men,” he whispered. “Do whatever it takes.”
His gaze hardened.
“Anyone who stands in your way—kill them.”
He flicked his hand. And the night stood still.
The assassins moved.
Not with the rush of soldiers, nor the clumsiness of men in armor—but like drifting smoke given intent. They leapt from branch to branch, crossed impossible gaps, and vanished into the rain-soaked darkness without a single sound.
Clouds swallowed the moon.
Rain began to fall harder.
Tonight, they were ghosts. And yet—each assassin bore a quiet, unsettling detail.
Fur.
Patches of beastfolk fur sewn carefully into their clothing—beneath arms, along collars, woven into belts and waist straps.
The color was the same, with imperfect textures. But the purpose was flawless.
To the nose of any beastfolk, they would smell like kin. Family. Home.
The assassins flowed forward, their movements drowned beneath the growing rain.
☆
At the village gate, the number of guards had doubled beneath the shelter.
Rain slid steadily from the wooden beams overhead, dripping onto the packed earth below. One of the guards muttered about how the downpour dulled scent and blurred tracks, how rain made even the sharpest nose unreliable.
But Kael wasn’t listening.
His nose twitched.
Once.
Twice.
Sniff.
Sniff.
He turned sharply to the right. Then to the left. Then froze.
A beastfolk in the forest? He thought.
“No…” he murmured. “That's not it.”
The other guards glanced at him, confused.
They smelled nothing out of place.
But Kael—He smelled beastfolk coming from everywhere.
From too many directions all at once.
Too far apart. Too overlapping.
It was impossible.
His eyes widened.
How can one person be in multiple places at once…?
His pulse spiked violently.
Without warning, he broke into a sprint.
“Kael! Wait!” one of the guards shouted.
He didn’t stop.
Mud splashed beneath his feet as he tore through the village paths, rain soaking his fur and armor alike. Anxiety burned in his chest, sharp and relentless.
That scent… It’s everywhere.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s very wrong.
Ahead, a familiar figure moved quickly through the rain. Much quicker than him.
“Mariada!” Kael shouted.
She spun around, her face already tense.
“Kael?”
“What’s happening?” he demanded. “Where are you going?”
“To Brescia’s,” she replied instantly. “What about you?”
“I’m checking the village,” he said, breath tight. “I don’t know what it is, but something’s off.”
“Yes.” Mariada nodded sharply. “I feel it too.”
She paused, then slowly turned her gaze outward.
All around them, the village moved as it always did. People went about their routines beneath the falling rain—doors opening and closing, voices drifting between homes, lanterns being lit for the coming night. Laughter still existed. Familiarity still held.
“And yet,” Mariada said quietly, “it seems like only you and I have noticed.”
Kael swallowed.
“Yeah,” he replied.
They stood there for a heartbeat longer, surrounded by normalcy that suddenly felt fragile—like glass stretched too thin.
"Do you know what it could be?" Kael asked.
But then Mariada exhaled.
“I have to go.”
She didn’t wait for agreement. She turned on her heel and started to run—
“Wait!”
Mariada whirled back, irritation flashing across her face.
“What now?!”
“Why don’t you raise a barrier around the entire village?”
She stared at him as if he’d just asked the impossible.
“A protective barrier is the elders’ responsibility,” she snapped. “My barrier can only gather information.”
Then she looked him straight in the eye.
"You mean to tell me they haven't raised a barrier, yet?" She asked.
"NO," Kael said. "I don't sense—"
BOOM!!
The world exploded.
The ground buckled.
Mud and debris blasted upward in a violent plume as a deafening roar tore through the village.
Both of them snapped their heads toward the sound.
Smoke rose.
Wood splintered.
For a heartbeat, even the screams were swallowed by the shock.
Mariada turned and took off running. Faster than before.
“Wait—!” Kael tried.
BOOM!!
Another explosion tore through a different part of the village.
He clenched his teeth and turned sharply.
“Dammit!” he snarled. “What are the elders doing?!”
He sprinted toward the first blast site.
☆
The assassins’ attack unfolded with chilling precision.
This wasn’t chaos. It was designed.
Explosions were timed and placed to fracture the village’s response, to cut lines of communication, to scatter defenders before they could regroup.
Despite preparations, panic spread like wildfire.
The first blast site—was the elders’ home.
Or what remained of it.
The site was all collapsed beams, crushed stone, smoldering debris soaked by rain.
Kael stopped dead.
His chest tightened painfully.
No…
How did they get explosives in here? How did they bypass our detection?
Rain streamed down his face as he stared at the ruins, heart hammering so hard it drowned out the storm.
Guards skidded to a stop behind him.
“Captain!” one shouted. “What do we do? Explosions are happening everywhere!”
Fear trembled openly in their voices.
Kael forced himself to breathe.
Then he moved.
He turned to face them, jaw set, eyes blazing with resolve.
“Ten of you — with me!” he ordered. “The rest of you, get the villagers to shelter! Move!”
For a brief moment, they hesitated—then discipline took hold.
“Yes, sir!”
They broke into motion, scattering through the rain as the village burned around them.
☆
Mariada reached Brescia’s house just as the rain began to fall harder.
"Brescia!" She called.
Inside, Brescia had Paxilous pulled tight against her chest, her body curved protectively around him as if she could shield him from the entire world.
“Mariada?!” Brescia gasped. “What’s happening?!”
“No time,” Mariada said sharply. “The village is under attack. We have to leave—now.”
“What?!” Brescia stared at her, disbelief freezing her in place.
“Sis…?” Paxilous whispered.
Brescia tightened her grip around him.
“Stay here,” she murmured, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her fear. “It’s going to be okay.”
Brescia stood up and faced Mariada.
“How did they get in?” she asked, looking back at Mariada.
“Forget that!” Mariada snapped. “Grab him and—”
“Sis! Behind you!”
They all gasped.
The doorway darkened.
A figure stood there, unmoving.
It was the assassin spy.
Mariada reacted instantly, raising her hand.
“Dark magic—!”
But the assassin was faster.
“No, you don’t,” He said calmly.
He took out a glass artifact from his pocket and shattered it at their feet.
A shimmering smoke burst outward, spreading across the room like a living thing.
Mariada’s breath caught. Her knees buckled.
“My magic—” she choked. “Why… can’t I…?”
“The Holy Hourglass,” the spy said with clear pride. “A gift from the Divine Kingdom.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
“It suppresses magic,” he continued. “And weakens the body. Ideal for capturing troublesome beastfolk.”
Paxilous collapsed first, wheezing as he tried to breathe.
Brescia dropped beside him at once, shielding his body with her own.
Mariada struggled to move.
Her limbs felt heavy. Useless.
The spy smiled under his mask. It was clear to see he was smiling.
He then hung two chains with collars at the end of each. He moved closer to the weakened beast girls.
☆
Elsewhere in the village—
Kael stood over the bodies of the assassins he had managed to cut down.
“Who sent you?” he demanded, sword on the assassin's neck.
“Confidentiality is an assass—”
SHLICK.
The man’s throat opened.
Kael didn’t flinch.
Blood sprayed across the mud as he wiped his blade clean.
Then he noticed it.
Fur.
Patches of beastfolk fur sewn into their clothing.
He leaned to remove it for close inspection.
Then his eyes hardened.
“So that’s why…”
That’s why I smelled a familiar scent everywhere.
He looked around.
Survivors gathered in clusters—huddled, crying, clutching one another beneath the rain.
For one fragile moment, it seemed like control might return.
Then, a flare exploded high above the village.
It was bright, blinding, unmistakable from a long distance. And bathed in its light stood the assassin spy.
Paxilous was held before him, a knife pressed lightly to the boy’s throat.
Brescia and Mariada knelt beside him, bound in chains connected to black collars.
Kael’s heart stopped.
“Brescia—!”
“Ah, ah, ah,” the spy sang. “Move, and the child dies.”
Paxilous trembled violently, eyes wide, breath shallow.
Kael’s fingers tightened around his sword.
He was ready to kill. He could end this—but it was too risky.
He couldn't guarantee that Paxilous would be safe.
But still, he wanted to move.
“Kael… don’t.”
Brescia’s voice was weak. Broken.
Her eyes begged him to stop. And he froze.
The spy noticed immediately. He smiled beneath the mask again.
“You really don’t listen well, do you?”
He stomped on Brescia’s stomach.
"...!"
She cried out, vomiting as her body curled in pain.
“SIS!!” Paxilous screamed.
“Okay!” Kael shouted, hands rising. “I’ll comply! I’ll comply!”
He dropped his sword. The guards followed.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
The spy tossed several collars onto the mud at his feet.
“Put them on.”
“What are those?” Kael asked, though he already knew.
“Slave collars.”
Horror spread across his face.
He hesitated for a minute, but the assassin's patience was waning.
“Put. Them. On!” The spy hissed, tightening his grip on Paxilous and putting weight on his foot on Brescia's stomach.
With shaking hands, Kael fastened the collar around his own neck.
The guards did the same.
Then—heavy footsteps shook the earth. Armored knights marched into the village.
Dozens.
Then more.
Hundreds.
If this had been a human settlement, it might have looked like salvation.
But beastfolk knew better.
These humans were not rescuers—they were collectors.
Their battle cry only pushed the beastfolk deeper into despair, drowning every other positive emotion they had.
Captain, Zrek stepped forward.
“Looks like everything’s been handled.”
The spy turned to respond—And that second was all Kael needed.
He lunged.
Claws fully extended.
A desperate strike.
CLANG!
The captain blocked it effortlessly.
“What—?!” Kael was in awe.
He struck again—
GRIP.
The captain seized his wrist and yanked him forward, slamming the hilt of his sword into Kael’s chest.
“Guh—!”
Another blow struck the back of his head.
Kael collapsed into the mud.
How… can a human overpower me…?
Darkness swallowed him whole.
☆
The elders were dead.
The village was destroyed.
The tribe was enslaved.
And as if the world itself mourned—the sky finally broke.
Rain poured down on a night soaked in despair.
