Serena's Curse

Chapter 2

Ayden’s POV

I woke up choking on dirt, the taste bitter and dry on my tongue. My body ached as I rolled onto my back. Above me, clouds swirled like bruises, their edges lit by a reluctant moon.

“Ash?” My voice was cracked, barely audible. I tried again, this time louder. “Arthur!” Still no answer, just the hiss of rain dripping from the twisted branches above.

I pulled myself upright with a broken branch, every movement with sharp pain. My cloak was drenched, and my boots were heavy from swallowing water. But what felt worse was the silence. The array of trees spans farther than my eyes could reach. I was no stranger to woods, but this one felt different; it felt cursed. I staggered forward, gripping my cloak tighter. I stumbled on for what felt like hours. Every so often, I thought I heard movement behind me, but when I turned, there was only shadow. The forest was alive with whispers, the kind that crawl up your spine and settle at the base of your skull.

When I got out of the woods, my legs were trembling. The moon had risen higher, cutting thin silver lines across the landscape. Ahead of me was a dirt road sloping down into a valley where faint lanterns glimmered like watchful eyes. It looked like civilisation, relief rushed through me so fast. I half-ran, half-stumbled down the road, eager for voices, for answers or for any sign of my brothers.

As the houses came into view, the relief soured. It felt less like a town and more like a place waiting to die. I thought to turn back to find another way, even if it meant sleeping in the forest until sunrise. But the night air was biting, I needed shelter, I needed someone to tell me where I was and if the gods were merciful, if my brothers had passed this way.

I pressed down the road, towards the dim lights I saw, which led me to a tavern marked with a weathered sign of a rearing horse. I pushed the door open, and the air hit me like a wall of smoke, sweat, and stale ale. A dozen pairs of eyes turned toward me, men and women hunched at their tables, but none of them spoke. They just watched until, one by one, they turned back to their drinks.

I forced my legs forward and set the last coin I had on the counter. A woman stood there, stout with grey-streaked hair; she wore a neckpiece around her rather chubby neck.

“A drink, and a bed if you have one to spare” I asked politely. She gave me a long look but said nothing. She poured a measure of ale into a battered cup, slid it across with a small brass key.

I took both and retreated to an empty table in the corner. The ale tasted flat and bitter, but the burn in my throat steadied me. All I could think about was my brothers, and if someone could point me the road to Ravenport. Ash and Arthur might have found their way there already, or back home to Elderrest.

The thoughts had barely settled when a laugh cut through the tavern.

“Well, well. Fresh face.”

Three men swaggered toward me, the leader was broad-shouldered with a scar across his cheek. His eyes gleamed as they flicked over my cloak and boots.

“Not from around here, are you? Did you miss your way?”

“I don’t want any trouble,” I said, my hand tightened around the cup. “I just need a place to rest,” The scarred man leaned close, breathe sour with ale.

“Boy, trouble’s already found you” He responded emphatically, drawing closer to where I was.

Before I could say another word, a sound stopped us all. A sharp, agonising growl, followed by bones cracking.

Every one’s gaze shifted to the far corner of the tavern. A man sat there trembling, his hands clawed at the table. His body convulsed, skin rippled, cracked, and in the space of a heartbeat, fur burst from beneath. Within seconds, he had reshaped into something monstrous, and within seconds.

With one swing of its arm, it tore straight through the tavern wall, charging into the storm-bitten night, wood pieces flew, lantern glass scattering across as it disappeared out of sight.

I sat there, cup trembling in my hands, staring at the ragged hole where the beast had fled. But the strangest thing wasn’t what I’d just seen. It was the way no one seemed to be surprised, the townsfolk just muttered, collected their things, and slipped out as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.