Isle of Beasts and Shadows (The Forgotten Isle Saga #1)

Chapter 9

Amid the heavy silence that enveloped the second floor of the village home, a mysterious figure with piercing yellow eyes silently observed from the shadowy rafters above. His gaze, unwavering and filled with curiosity, lingered on the scene unfolding below.

A red-haired man, who he now knew as Jonathan, stood beside the blonde woman, Airella. The night before had brought them together, and now he watched them from his vantage point above. Fortunately for him, he pieced together their names by discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation.

The soul-eater, being fixated on the solemnity of the moment, pondered the rarity of such a scene. Human deaths were infrequent occurrences on the island, as the last of them died centuries ago. The Miscreants, mostly immortal beings, had caused the end of human civilization here. To the soul-eater, death was a profound transition, a beautiful yet solemn journey that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

Lost in his thoughts, the soul-eater momentarily forgot his presence as he lingered in the shadows, inadvertently making eye contact with Jonathan, a connection that sent a shiver down his spine. Airella, sensing the tension, moved swiftly to Jonathan’s side, their shared resolve clear as they instinctively reached for their weapons, ready for whatever may unfold.

“Who are you?” Jonathan’s voice, tinged with a hint of unease, cut through the silence, demanding an answer from the mysterious stranger lurking above.

Despite the intensity of the moment, the soul-eater’s appearance belied the gravity of the situation. His scrawny frame and pallid complexion contrasted starkly with the armored duo below, giving him an air of fragility that seemed to contradict the power he held within. Airella, her gaze meeting the stranger’s, hesitated briefly, a flicker of recognition passing between them in the tense atmosphere of the chamber.

The reaper’s emotionless facade, usually a shield against revealing his true feelings, seemed to crack in the girl’s presence.

As he gazed into her mesmerizing multicolored eyes, an inexplicable wave of emotions surged through him, causing a peculiar itching sensation to creep through his chest and settle in his stomach. Despite these inner tumults, he maintained his silence, observing as Jonathan’s startled expression mirrored his own astonishment at the enigmatic Airella.

“You know him?” Jonathan asked her as he readied his stance.

Airella gazed steadily at the stranger, her eyes reflecting a mix of caution and curiosity.

“This is what I was trying to explain to you on the way here,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

The yellow-eyed stranger exuded an eerie aura as he tightly gripped his scythe, the metal gleaming menacingly in the dim light. His cloak, tattered and frayed at the edges, billowed ominously around him. With a practiced hand, he twirled the scythe effortlessly in the air, the sound of it cutting through the silence echoed in the room.

As the blade came down with a resounding thud, it embedded itself into the ancient wooden floor, sending splinters flying from the ancient floorboards in all directions.

A chill swept through the room, unsettling the dust and causing the pile of bones to shudder and clatter behind Airella and Jonathan, who could feel the weight of the stranger’s gaze upon them, a gaze that seemed to pierce through their very souls.

As they turned swiftly, they encountered the sight of a child-sized skeleton latching onto Jonathan’s leg. Its bony fingers clawed at his armor in a futile attempt to inflict harm. With a swift, decisive motion, Jonathan forcefully kicked his leg against the nearby wooden wall, shattering the skeleton’s fragile skull into splintered fragments.

The soul-eater, observing the scene with dark amusement, found a twisted joy in the chaos unfolding before him, a rare spectacle in the desolate realm since the disappearance of humans years ago.

The reaper materialized suddenly in front of Jonathan, his dark cloak billowing ominously as he reached out to grab him by the face with skeletal fingers.

With a swift motion, he propelled Jonathan backward through the dusty attic window, the shards of glass tinkling as they shattered against the night air. Jonathan tumbled through the air before landing with a thud on the dewy grass below, the impact knocking the wind out of him. As he struggled to catch his breath, the distant hoot of an owl broke the eerie silence.

The soul-eater turned his gaze back to the spot where the girl had been standing, but she had vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a sense of unease that hung heavy in the air.

In the heat of the moment, he lifted his scythe in a swift defensive move as her devastating blow materialized out of thin air. The girl’s agility was remarkable, almost too much for him to match.

Surprised by her initial attack, a sense of urgency washed over him. A surge of energy coursed through him as the girl retracted her golden battle axe, her foot striking out and catching his, disrupting his balance. Despite her speed and strength, he realized she lacked the finesse required to master a weapon.

Adjusting his stance, he maneuvered his scythe beneath him, leveraging it to propel himself forward. In one fluid motion, he deftly pushed the girl back against the wall with the hilt of his scythe, causing hairline fractures to spiderweb across the wall.

Pressing his skeletal foot against her gleaming chest plate, a sense of restraint held him back. However, an unseen force abruptly interrupted his actions and yanked his cloak from his body, revealing his decaying gray chest, bony hands, and feet. The only shred of modesty left was the tattered black cloth serving as his semblance of pants.

He turned around swiftly to face the unexpected newcomer, his heart pounding with a mix of surprise and dread. As he laid eyes on the figure before him, recognition dawned—it was none other than their first-in-command, the formidable leader of their group.

Duran felt a shiver run down his spine as he met the intense gaze of the soul-eater, a being exuding an aura of emotionless rage that sent a chill through his very core.

“Miscreant!” Duran’s voice didn’t waver as he uttered the word.

The reaper’s skeletal hand shot out, seizing the soldier standing beside the first-in-command. With a swift, chilling motion, the soul-eater pressed his bony palm against the soldier’s mouth. Time seemed to warp as the unfortunate man’s features contorted in agony, his eyes rolling back as if aging rapidly before their eyes.

“Marcus!” Airella let out a pained scream. She was on the verge of unconsciousness.

A ghastly transformation swept over Marcus, leaving behind a mummified husk where a living man once stood. The room was filled with an eerie silence, punctuated only by the sound of the soul-eater’s hunger.

It had been centuries since the soul-eater had tasted the essence of a human soul, and the surge of energy invigorated him. As the stolen vitality coursed through his veins, a faint hue returned to his pallid skin, rejuvenating his once-withered form. Yet, the insatiable hunger still gnawed at him—a hunger that demanded to be sated.

“End it, men!” Duran’s command cut through the tense air, his voice tinged with desperation as he urged the remaining soldiers to action, their fate hanging in the balance near the ominous stairwell.

The soul-eater dashed toward the first-in-command and grabbed him by the collar of his chest plate.

“You can’t kill what isn’t killable. I. Am. Death.” The yellow-eyed stranger’s voice, deep and ominous, sent shivers down Duran’s spine as it echoed through the dimly lit room, the words lingering in the air like an eerie whisper. The atmosphere turned cold and tense, a palpable sense of foreboding filling the space.

With a sudden, almost supernatural swiftness, Duran’s body propelled through the shattered window, and the glass shards glinted in the scant light as he hurtled toward the ground below.

His body collided with the hard surface next to Jonathan, the impact sending shockwaves through the air; the noise echoed with a deafening thud that seemed to resonate in the very walls of the village home.

The soul-eater bent down, his long, bony fingers retrieving his cloak from the dusty ground. With a fluid movement, he wrapped the tattered cloak around his slender frame, the fabric billowing around him like a dark shroud. As he slipped his arms through the worn sleeves, his piercing gaze fixed once more on Airella, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity.

He picked up his scythe from the ground; the metal gleamed in the dim light of the abandoned building. With a firm grip, he raised it high and brought it down against the creaking wooden floor. The once-lifeless soldier stirred, the hollow sockets of his eyes fixating on the dazed Airella with a menacing growl.

As the men gathered outside to confer, Airella found herself alone, facing the daunting challenge of the undead Marcus.

“No. Them.” The soul-eater’s voice rasped, pointing a bony finger toward the figures outside the window.

Taking a last glance at Airella, who remained on the floor against the cracked wall, the reaper rested momentarily, his spectral form flickering with a dim ethereal light.

He needed answers, but wasn’t used to exerting this much energy in such a short amount of time. It had been a very long time since he had last encountered a formidable foe. He would leave and replenish his energy for now and then would return to uncover more truths about these venturing humans once he had fully regained his strength.

Just as he made his way towards the window, Airella’s sudden charge caught him off guard. With a swift motion, she propelled both of them through the shattered window, their forms tumbling onto the rooftop of the adjacent building.

The soul-eater, with his menacing golden eyes gleaming in the darkness, swiftly intercepted the dual-bladed axe aimed directly at his face, skillfully deflecting the lethal strike with the handle of his scythe. The clash of metal rang out in the air’s stillness, echoing through the ancient village as the battle between light and darkness unfolded under the watchful gaze of the gloomy sky above.

“Who are you?” Airella said, her voice trembling in the struggle as she looked into Sirius’s piercing eyes.

“Sirius,” spoke the soul-eater in a voice that sent shivers down her spine as he wrapped his hand around her throat. With a swift motion, he flung her across the roof, yet to his surprise, she pulled him along in her desperate attempt to break free.

As they landed in an unexpected entanglement, Sirius found himself sprawled on top of her, his arms outstretched to steady their fall.

Airella’s mind raced with confusion and fear. What had transpired to lead them to this precarious moment? It felt like just moments ago when they were peacefully scouting a deserted village, only to be thrown into this chaotic encounter. With no escape in sight, she locked eyes with Sirius, her cheeks flushing with a mix of emotions she couldn’t comprehend.

Airella’s heart raced as she processed the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Was this some kind of sick joke? She wondered, her mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she mustered the courage to push the assailant away, her movements a mix of fear and determination.

As she regained her footing on the precarious rooftop, Airella’s eyes darted around, taking in the grim reality of the undead soldier wreaking havoc on Duran. Despite his valiant efforts, Duran’s armor was no match for the relentless onslaught. The other soldiers stood frozen in fear, unable to muster the courage to intervene. A pang of worry shot through Airella as she spotted Jonathan still lying motionless on the ground, a reminder of the dire circumstances they were facing.

The urgent need to help him tugged at Airella’s consciousness, yet she grappled with her own internal turmoil. Amidst the chaos and danger that surrounded her, she knew that finding a way out of this predicament would require all the strength and resilience she could muster.

She turned around slowly, her heart thudding in her chest as she braced herself for what she thought would be a flash of silver hair charging at her. However, to her surprise, she found him standing still, his gaze fixed upon her from a distance.

“What are you? What do you want from us?” Her fingers tightened around Dawnbreaker, her knuckles turning white with tension. Despite her efforts, her face remained flushed, betraying the intensity of the moment.

Questions swirled in her mind—what transpired between them? She attempted to decipher his intentions, his thoughts, but his inscrutable expression offered no clues. Yet, amidst the blankness, his eyes stood out—those familiar yellow eyes capable of penetrating through the toughest exterior with a mere glance.

Airella’s mind raced with thoughts. Uncertain of his motives, she knew she couldn’t allow whatever he planned to come to fruition. With one of their comrades already fallen and more at risk, she lunged towards him once more, poised for a last strike with Dawnbreaker. Defiance surged through her as she readied herself—she couldn’t afford to let him escape.

“Souls,” she heard him whisper, the word barely audible. Or so she thought she heard before he leaped off the building, narrowly avoiding her attack.