Chapter 8: The Northern Forest
901 Words
The march began before sunrise.
The gates of Valen had barely disappeared behind them when the rhythm of thousands of armored boots became the only sound upon the King's Road.
Steel clinked against steel.
Leather creaked.
The banners of Valen fluttered proudly in the cool morning breeze.
Nearly one-third of the kingdom's army stretched across the road like a moving river of iron.
At the very front...
Captain Garrick rode alone.
His horse maintained a steady pace.
His eyes never wandered.
His expression never changed.
He neither looked back nor spoke.
He simply led.
Rowan marched among Garrick's company, his shield hanging over his shoulder while his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword.
His gaze drifted toward the Captain once more.
Not a single command.
Not a single word.
Just silence.
We're marching toward creatures that destroyed an entire northern patrol...
Surely there must be a plan.
His eyes narrowed.
Yet Captain never questioned the King's order.
He simply accepted the mission... and led us forward.
Rowan couldn't decide whether that was courage...
...or the confidence of a man who had survived too many wars to fear another.
He looked around him.
Fear wore many faces.
Some of the younger recruits marched with pale expressions, gripping their spears so tightly that their hands trembled.
Others laughed loudly.
One soldier nudged his friend.
"If I die today..."
"...tell my mother I finally became handsome."
His companion laughed.
"I'll tell her you cried the whole way here."
Several nearby soldiers burst into laughter.
Even Rowan smiled.
For a brief moment...
The fear faded.
Not far behind them...
An older veteran walked quietly with his helmet tucked beneath one arm.
He didn't laugh.
He didn't join the conversation.
He simply stared ahead.
One of the recruits noticed him.
"Old man..."
"You aren't going to tell us some heroic battlefield story?"
The veteran glanced at him.
His voice remained calm.
"The loudest soldiers..."
"...are usually the first to go silent."
No one laughed after that.
The road stretched onward.
Hours became half a day.
Half a day became evening.
Villages slowly disappeared behind them.
Civilization faded.
Trees grew taller.
The air became colder.
Captain Garrick finally raised one hand.
The army halted.
Before them...
The Northern Forest stood like an endless wall of black.
Towering pine trees blocked what little sunlight remained.
Their branches twisted together so tightly that the forest seemed to swallow the sky itself.
A cold wind drifted from within.
It carried the scent of damp earth...
...and something else.
Something rotten.
Rowan swallowed.
"This is it..."
One by one...
The soldiers entered the forest.
The deeper they marched...
The quieter the world became.
At first...
Birdsong disappeared.
Then...
The buzzing of insects.
Soon...
Even the wind seemed unwilling to pass between the ancient trees.
The silence became unbearable.
It pressed against every soldier like an invisible weight.
One horse suddenly stopped.
It refused to move.
The rider pulled on the reins.
"Come on..."
The animal snorted violently.
Its ears flattened.
Its entire body trembled.
Another horse reacted the same way.
Captain Garrick dismounted immediately.
He placed one hand gently against the frightened animal's neck.
The horse continued shaking.
One veteran whispered,
"They know."
A nearby recruit frowned.
"Know what?"
The veteran never answered.
Captain Garrick slowly surveyed the forest.
His voice finally broke the silence.
"No fires tonight."
Several soldiers exchanged confused glances.
One recruit couldn't help himself.
"But Captain..."
"It'll be freezing before midnight."
Garrick looked at him.
"The cold..."
"...won't kill you."
The recruit fell silent.
No one asked another question.
Camp was established without a single fire.
Cold rations replaced hot meals.
The darkness arrived faster beneath the forest canopy.
Soon...
Night consumed everything.
The soldiers rested in uneasy silence.
Some whispered quiet prayers.
Others pretended to sleep.
Very few actually could.
Rowan sat against the roots of an enormous pine tree.
His sword rested across his knees.
Captain Garrick walked through the camp one last time.
He stopped beside Rowan.
"Nervous?"
Rowan nodded.
"Yes, Captain."
Garrick looked toward the darkness beyond the trees.
"Good."
"The moment you stop fearing death..."
"...is the moment you stop respecting it."
He continued walking.
Leaving Rowan alone with his thoughts.
A while later...
Captain Garrick assigned Rowan to the first watch.
The young soldier stood at the edge of the camp.
The forest stretched endlessly before him.
Nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Nothing made a sound.
Minutes passed.
Then...
Crack.
A twig snapped somewhere ahead.
Rowan immediately gripped his sword.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
He stared into the darkness.
Nothing.
After another minute...
Crack.
This time...
Closer.
His heartbeat quickened.
His breathing slowed.
His fingers tightened around the sword's hilt.
The trees stood perfectly still.
Then...
He saw them.
Two pale eyes.
Floating between the trees.
Watching.
Rowan froze.
Another pair appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
Dozens.
Silent.
Motionless.
They didn't attack.
They didn't blink.
They simply watched.
A cold shiver crawled down Rowan's spine.
His voice barely escaped his lips.
"Captain..."
The eyes vanished.
Every single one.
As though they had never been there.
Captain Garrick appeared beside him almost instantly.
"What did you see?"
Rowan never looked away from the darkness.
"They're here."
Captain Garrick stared into the forest for several long seconds.
Then quietly drew his sword.
"So..."
"They've finally found us."
Far beyond the trees...
Something growled.
And for the first time...
The Northern Forest answered.
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