The village hummed with life, a vibrant tapestry of ochre earth and palm thatch. Circular homes, their walls alive with sacred symbols—twisting lines, protective eyes, and the ancestral blessings of Orisha—clustered in a warm embrace. Above them, smoke from cooking fires ascended in lazy spirals, perfuming the air with the rich scents of okra stew, creamy yam porridge, and the sweet char of roasting plantains. A deep, resonant murmur, the voice of a distant talking drum, pulsed through the very ground, a rhythm older than the first memory.
Yet, at the village's ragged edge, where Leonotis and Gethii now stood, the familiar warmth dissolved into a chill. Here, the well-trodden path surrendered to a wilder domain of scrub and thorny underbrush that clawed at the footpath. The colossal forms of iroko and obeche trees, a dense, ancient wall, swallowed the horizon. The ceaseless symphony of birdsong, a constant companion within the village, dwindled to a cautious, almost fearful silence. Even the wind, when it stirred, seemed to hold its breath.
A single cowrie-marked stone, a silent sentinel etched with a warding charm, stood beside the final homestead. Beyond it lay a land both sacred and deeply feared—the stark, unforgiving border between the known and the untamed unknown.
Gethii was known as the village hero for taking all manner of quests for the local village. He'd do anything from protecting transports across the savannah and forests to simply taking out the trash. This current quest was commissioned by the village chief to take care of some monster that attacked a merchant cart. And Leonotis was finally good enough to accompany him.
Gethii paused, the soft scuff of his sandals on the earth the only sound. He pressed his fingers, briefly, reverently, against the cool surface of the cowrie stone, a silent plea for passage. Then, with a measured breath, he stepped across the threshold.
"Keep your senses sharp, Leonotis," he murmured, his eyes already sweeping the shadowed depths of the trees. "The shrine's protection… it doesn't reach this far anymore."
Leonotis hesitated, a knot tightening in his stomach, before following. His mouth was suddenly dry. Around his neck, the woven necklace Chinakah had braided for him—a small, familiar comfort from home, even if he had inadvertently repurposed her best bedsheet into a tunic—itched against his skin. The fleeting thought of home vanished as a colder gust swept through the branches, bringing with it the metallic tang of iron. And something else, something acrid and disturbing:
Burnt feathers.
Up ahead, the forest grudgingly parted, revealing the shrine clearing. The ancient structure, a relic of forgotten reverence, lay half-devoured by clinging vines and thick moss. Its protective sigils, once vibrant, were now faint, their lines fractured and dull against the weathered stone. Scattered on the damp earth were chicken bones, broken calabash offerings, and melted wax—detritus of faded rituals. But it wasn't the disrepair that sent a jolt of ice through Leonotis.
It was the claw marks. Deep, savage gouges raked across the shrine’s base, as if colossal talons had torn through solid rock.
Gethii knelt, his fingers tracing the raw lines. "Too large for any dog. Too sharp for a wildcat. And these…" he gestured to the scorch marks, dark and unnatural, along the outer ring of stones, "…these weren't made by firewood."
Leonotis swallowed hard, the sound loud in the sudden quiet. "Then what?"
Gethii looked up, his gaze heavy. "A creature that doesn't belong here. Not anymore."
"This is where the attack happened?" Leonotis asked, his eyes wide with a mix of trepidation and excitement. He swallowed, his grip tightening on his tree-branch sword. He could almost hear the chaos, the screams, the clash of metal against... something else.
"Over there," Gethii pointed to a set of tracks. "Fox prints, but larger than any fox I've ever seen. And the claws..." He trailed off, his expression grim.
They followed the tracks, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves under their feet. The air grew colder, the shadows deeper. Leonotis shivered, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear or the chill.
Suddenly, Gethii stopped, his hand raised. "Wait," he whispered. "Listen... Do you hear it?"
Leonotis strained his ears. A faint sound, a low growl mixed with a high-pitched whine, echoed through the trees. It was a sound that made the hair on his neck stand on end.
Gethii drew his sword, the metal whispering as it left its scabbard. The blade gleamed in the dim light, sharp and deadly.
"Stay ready, Leonotis," Gethii ordered, his voice firm. "And keep your eyes open."
They moved forward cautiously, the strange growling growing louder with each step. The trees thinned, revealing a small, overgrown shrine. And there, crouched before it, was the creature.
It was a fox, but twisted and monstrous. It was easily the size of a large lion, with fur stained with the color of dried blood. Its eyes glowed with an eerie red light, and its teeth were long and sharp, dripping with a viscous fluid. It was tearing at something on the ground, its movements savage and hungry.
Leonotis gasped, his heart pounding. The stench of decay and something acrid and unnatural filled his nostrils.
The fox demon raised its head, its glowing red eyes fixing on them. A low growl rumbled in its chest, and it bared its fangs in a silent snarl.
"Easy, beast," Gethii said, his voice calm but firm. He stepped forward, his sword held ready. "We don't want to hurt you. We just want to know what you want here."
The fox demon didn't respond with words. It launched itself at them, a blur of red fur and sharp teeth, its unearthly growl turning into a high-pitched, terrifying shriek.
Gethii stepped in front of Leonotis, his sword flashing.
Leonotis, despite his earlier bravado, stumbled back as the fox demon lunged. "What's wrong with it?!" he yelped, barely deflecting a swipe with his wooden sword.
"Mushrooms!" Gethii shouted over the din, pointing to the glowing fungi sprouting from the creature's back. "It's eaten berserk mushrooms!"
"Berserk mushrooms?!" Leonotis echoed, parrying another wild attack. The fox demon, clearly agitated by their commentary, leaped onto a nearby tree, then launched itself at Leonotis with surprising agility.
"Look out!" Gethii yelled, shoving Leonotis aside. The demon crashed to the ground where Leonotis had been standing, its claws scraping the ground.
Sprawled on the ground, Leonotis scrambled for his tree-branch sword. "Okay, okay, I'm in the fight now!" he declared, brandishing the stick with more enthusiasm than skill.
The fox demon, momentarily distracted by a passing butterfly, began chasing its own tail, spinning in a dizzying circle.
Gethii blinked, lowering his sword slightly. "Is it... dancing?"
"Is that normal for fox demons?" Leonotis asked, scrambling to his feet.
Gethii seized the opportunity. "Right, let's use this!" He lunged, attempting a swift strike, but the demon, mid-spin, abruptly changed direction, causing Gethii to hit nothing but air. He stumbled, momentarily off-balance.
Seeing his master falter, Leonotis charged forward, wielding his tree-branch sword with surging courage. He whacked the fox demon soundly on its rear.
The demon yelped, more startled than injured, and turned its glowing red eyes on Leonotis. It snarled, then let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a hiccup.
"Did it just... hiccup?" Leonotis asked, lowering his stick in confusion.
The fox demon, looking thoroughly bewildered, hiccuped again, then sat on its haunches, staring at Leonotis with a dopey expression.
Gethii watched the bizarre scene unfold, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on his face. "Well, I'll be..."
"Maybe if we try again... talk to it?" Leonotis suggested, taking a tentative step forward.
"Are you out of your mind?" Gethii asked, incredulous. "That thing could rip you to shreds!"
"But it's not attacking," Leonotis pointed out. "Maybe it just needs a... friend?"
Leonotis approached the fox demon cautiously, his tree-branch sword held loosely. "Hey, uh... it's okay," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We're not gonna hurt you."
The fox demon tilted its head, its glowing eyes still unfocused. It let out a soft whine, then flopped onto its side, its tail thumping weakly against the ground.
Gethii, sword still in hand, watched from a distance where he could intervene if needed, his expression a mix of bewilderment and reluctant fascination. "I... I don't believe this."
Leonotis knelt beside the fox demon, offering a hesitant hand. "See? It's just... sick."
The fox demon sniffed Leonotis's hand, then licked it with a large, rough tongue. Leonotis giggled, his fear replaced with a strange sense of camaraderie.
From behind him, Gethii let out a sharp sigh of exasperation. “Of all the bizarre, ridiculous—” He stepped forward in one clean stride and with a flick of his wrist, his blade hissed through the air.
Schfft.
One by one, the fungi were sliced free, dark sap leaking from their severed stems. They hissed faintly as they hit the forest floor, curling inwards like dying insects.
The reaction was instant.
The demon fox let out a keening, unnatural scream. Its body convulsed violently, limbs spasming as its monstrous form collapsed inward. Fur seemed to ripple and suck back into skin. Clawed paws twitched, bones shrank with sickening pops and cracks. The grotesque bulk of the creature deflated like a punctured wineskin, until what remained lay still and silent in a bed of moss.
Leonotis stared, breath caught in his throat.
Where the demon had stood—towering, snarling, otherworldly—now sat a trembling fox cub. Barely the length of his forearm. Its fur was soft again, rich russet and white, its eyes dark and wet with confusion. The creature blinked slowly, gave a confused little yip, and tilted its tiny head.
Leonotis’s jaw dropped. He turned to Gethii, stunned.
"Don't look at me," Gethii muttered, holding up his hand defensively, his gaze still fixed on the cub. "Never seen the like."
A slow smile spread across Leonotis's face. He crouched down, wiggling his fingers. "Well, hello there," he whispered. The cub cautiously sniffed the air, then took a tentative step forward, batting playfully at the laces of Leonotis's boot with a tiny paw. "It's... adorable," Leonotis breathed, mesmerized.
Gethii managed a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His attention shifted from the charming scene to the patch of ground where the creature had first stood. Scattered remnants of sickly purple fungi lay wilting on the moss. He nudged one with his toe. It looked disturbingly similar to the berserk mushrooms he occasionally encountered to the east, yet the color was deeper, almost bruised, and the texture seemed subtly wrong, slicker. The energy that pulsed from the growths was faint.
He watched Leonotis gently stroke the cub's head, the small creature now tumbling over his feet in apparent bliss. Gethii's brow furrowed. This warped fungus... turning harmless creatures into raging beasts? His gaze drifted from the innocent play to the corrupted remnants on the ground, a cold knot forming in his stomach. Was this some terrifying new blight born of the woods themselves, or was something far more deliberate twisting the natural order?
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