The search party moved in a tight formation, their scout flies flitting ahead in restless, erratic patterns. The deeper they went into the jungle, the more uneasy the hunters became. The silence was unnatural—no birds, no rustling underbrush, just the faint hum of insects too small to matter.
Captain Renshaw led the group, his expression grim as his eyes scanned the darkened canopy. Mara followed close behind, her fingers twitching near her bowstring. She had insisted on coming, despite her exhaustion. She needed to see for herself.
"We should've seen something by now," one of the hunters murmured. "If they made it out, we'd find tracks, signs—anything."
Another hunter knelt beside a torn vine, holding it between gloved fingers. "Something passed through here. Big."
Then, a flicker of light. A handful of scout flies zipped out of the underbrush, their glow erratic. The hunters instinctively held their breath. Mara stepped forward, her heart pounding.
"They're Alden's."
The tiny insects pulsed, hovering near her hand before darting back toward the shadows, as if urging them forward.
The hunters exchanged wary glances before pressing on.
Minutes later, they found the first piece of evidence—Alden's shattered glaive, half-buried in the dirt. Not far from it, scraps of torn armor, streaked with something dark. The ground was disturbed, claw marks carving deep furrows into the earth.
Then they saw it.
A massive tree trunk, its bark gouged open, slick with something thick and fibrous. The growth pulsed faintly, as if alive. The scent of decay clung to the air.
One of the hunters took an uneasy step back. "That's not normal."
Renshaw knelt, running a hand over the corrupted bark. His jaw tightened. "No, it isn't."
Mara swallowed hard. "We need to move. Now."
But they didn't.
One of the younger hunters, Dain, stepped closer, reaching toward the fibrous mass growing from the bark. The moment his fingers brushed against it, a wet squelch filled the air. The surface was soft, yielding, like flesh stretched too thin over pulsing veins.
Then it moved.
A ripple ran through the growth, and something within it shuddered. For the briefest moment, the bark itself seemed to breathe, swelling outward before collapsing inward again. The sickly scent of rot grew stronger.
Dain jerked his hand back, breathing hard. "That… that's not a plant."
Renshaw narrowed his eyes. "No, it's not."
Mara took a slow step forward, her stomach twisting. Embedded within the fibrous tendrils were fragments of something metallic—scorched and twisted, barely recognizable. Her breath caught in her throat.
Armor.
She reached out with the tip of her dagger, nudging the warped piece of metal free. It fell to the ground with a soft thud, revealing what lay beneath.
Alden's pauldrons.
Mara's mouth went dry. The metal was fused into the growth, as if it had been devoured, broken down, and made part of the thing now spreading across the tree.
A heavy silence fell over the group. The jungle no longer felt like a place of nature. It was something else now. Something that fed.
One of the hunters swore under his breath. "What the hell is happening here?"
Renshaw rose to his feet. "We have what we came for. We're leaving."
No one argued. They turned and moved quickly, their boots crunching against the forest floor. But as they walked, Mara risked a glance over her shoulder.
The scout flies still lingered in the dark, hovering near the tree. Watching.
And in the distance, hidden beyond the vines and twisted roots, something else was watching too.
Hey people, were back in business! i haven't forgotten about this story and suddenly have a wave of inspiration so expect a few more chapters soon!!
Also for those who left reviews or comments, I really appreciate it! Its a nice little Dopamine spike!